  Colt leaned forward. “I need to say something to you.” Mal put his fork down and sat back in his chair. He moved his plate to the side and folded his hands in front of him before nodding. “We haven’t really talked about what happened in Nashville. I wanted you to know you surprised me, but I don’t think you did anything wrong, and since I was the only other person involved, I think it’s my opinion that matters the most.” “You’re my employee. What I did was wrong.” Mal tilted his head and raised his eyebrows for a second. “Wrong, but I don’t regret it. I’ve been thinking about it and if we might do that again.” “If I weren’t your employee, would you feel the same way?” Colt asked. Mal shook his head. “Not as long as we’re two consenting adults.” He heaved a sigh. “Look, we’ve spent a lot of time together, and dinner with you has become the highlight of my day. I don’t want you to feel—?” Colt cut him off. “I haven’t had friends since I was a kid. Yeah, there were others I knew and hung with in shelters and camps, but they weren’t really friends. It was more like we stuck together because we were in the same situation. People here talk to me. They care about what I think and how I feel. I haven’t known any of you very long, but it feels like I have friends.” He paused, and when Mal didn’t say anything, Colt reached out and took Mal’s hand for a few seconds as he added, “Does that make sense?” “It does,” Mal said quietly. “Are there rules about being friends with your employees?” “There are rules against using your position of power,” Mal said. He turned his hand over and gave Colt’s a squeeze, then let go. “I don’t think you’d ever do that.” Colt leaned back in his chair and rested his arms on the table. “As long as you know you’re free to say no to anything and it won’t affect your job here,” Mal insisted. “Does that mean we’re friends?” Colt ventured. Mal smiled. He reached across the table and offered Colt his hand. As they shook on it, he said, “It does.”     Comments are closed.
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