The Motivated Employee Pt. 06

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I read all comments and appreciate feedback.

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Jo stirred a simmering pot of pasta, the scent of garlic and crushed tomatoes filling up the house. The only sounds were the soft music from the bluetooth speaker, the occasional clink of metal against the pot, and the faint thud-thud-thud of a tail against the laundry door--Celina's mother's dog, Kenny, who they were babysitting, had been exiled there after trying to eat garlic bread. The wooden table by the window was already set. Nothing fancy, Jo told herself.

Celina was pacing somewhere down the hall again. Jo didn't need to see her to picture the way she kept rolling her shoulders like she could shake off the nerves. Celina unsettled was rare but tonight had her coiled up tight.

When Celina first mentioned Dani--the diligent employee who had unexpectedly confessed her crush--Jo had listened carefully and even encouraged her to explore it. The fact that Dani had felt safe enough to ask such a question spoke volumes to Jo. The power imbalance was clear--employee and boss--and Jo knew how easy it could be for things to get complicated. Celina didn't often meet people she clicked with right away, and that made this even more important. Dani's thoughtful question was, in itself, a small but meaningful green flag.

Jo raised an eyebrow, folded her hands, and rested her chin on them at the dinner table. "Well. Why don't you invite her over then?"

Celina went quiet. That's how Jo knew she was nervous. She didn't mind, of course. In fact, Jo liked it. There was something satisfying about watching Celina open up, even if she did it slowly. She could be unpredictable in her attachments, but when she secured them, they deepened like carefully aged wine. And so keeping boundaries clear wasn't just about fairness - it was about protecting a fragile and rare connection.

Jo moved across the kitchen with the ease of someone who cooked often, barefoot in jeans and a black t-shirt, her dark, luscious hair twisted into a loose bun. Celina hovered to the kitchen bench nearby, arms crossed.

"You're pacing," Jo said without looking up.

"I'm not pacing."

"You're absolutely pacing."

Celina scowled and stopped. "I just want things to be fine."

Jo grinned and tossed a handful of parsley into the pasta pot. "You like her."

Celina exhaled. "Yeah."

There was a weight behind the word. Jo felt it settle in her ribs.

"You know, she's probably as nervous as you are," Jo said, giving the spaghetti a stir. "You already knocked her socks off with your... generous rewards for meeting sales targets. Now she's coming over for pasta with the wife."

Celina snorted. "You're not my wife."

"Debatable. You wear my socks."

Celina leaned against the doorframe and rubbed the back of her neck. She wore a long-sleeved white top, with light blue jeans cuffed at the ankle.

"So what happens," Jo asked, "if I like her?"

Celina looked at her. "I hope you do."

"And what if I really, really like her?"

Celina hesitated, then said quietly, "Then we figure it out."

Jo smiled, slow and real. She turned back to the stove. "I like her already. Just so you know."

Celina huffed a breath, almost a laugh, and moved to set the table. Just three mismatched glasses and a bottle of wine.

The doorbell rang.

Jo wiped her hands on a dish towel, heart thudding a little harder than expected.

Time to face the music.

Celina strode off down the hallway while Jo stirred the sauce and reached for the salt. She heard Celina's voice warning the dog, who had likely escaped her laundry exile and was no doubt angling for a spot at the door.

She smiled to herself, and tasted the sauce. She frowned. Needed some basil.

Jo heard the sound of footsteps on floorboards, and glanced over her shoulder in time to see Celina enter the kitchen, followed by Dani.

Jo smiled. "Hey. Welcome to the madhouse."

Dani stepped inside almost hesitantly. Her ash-blonde hair was tucked behind one ear and slightly mussed from the wind. She wore an oversized green knit, soft and textured like grass, paired with dark blue jeans and white sneakers.

Her lips parted slightly, like she'd been holding her breath all the way here. She stood with her hands loose at her sides, caught between offering a handshake and wishing she could disappear into the floor.

Jo's chest tightened with something protective. She wanted to pull Dani close, wrap her in a blanket, and whisper that she was doing just fine.

Jo wiped her hands on a towel and stepped closer to Dani. "I'm Jo. Glad you made it." she said. Then she opened her arms.

Dani hesitated--like she was stepping into the unknown--but then she let herself in.

Jo was taller, and the embrace was firm but not overwhelming. Dani smelled like fresh laundry, and felt light in her arms like she was nervous, and Jo gave her an extra second before pulling back.

"It's really nice to meet you." she said, voice lower now. "Celina's told me a lot."

Dani's mouth twitched into something that might've been a smile. "Hopefully not everything."

Jo laughed. "Just the good stuff."

Behind her, Celina let out a breath that sounded like relief and moved to uncork the wine.

Jo gestured toward the table. "You want to sit? Food's almost ready. Unless you want a house tour first. We've got a haunted room."

Dani let out a shaky laugh, visibly loosening. "Maybe just the pasta first."

"Smart choice," Jo said, smiling wider now.

Jo liked her right away--not for the nervous, blushing moments, but for the spark in her eyes when she finally relaxed.

"So," Dani said, resting her hands on her thighs as she sat down. "How haunted are we talking?"

Jo's lips twitched. "Well. We only noticed the doorframe was slightly diagonal about a year after moving in. I'm pretty good with details, but that one slipped past me."

Celina looked up from the kitchen island. "She means she didn't notice it at all until I pointed it out. And then swore she'd noticed it first."

Dani smiled. "Selective memory is a survival skill."

"We keep saying we're going to paint it," Celina added, uncorking the wine. "But we've been stuck arguing about what color for, what, six months?"

"Seven," Jo said. "And it's because I have taste."

Celina handed her a glass and smirked. "You think beige has personality."

Before Jo could answer, a scruffy terrier mix trotted into the room, tags jingling. He made a beeline for Dani and sat at her feet like he'd been expecting her all night.

"Oh, and that's Kenny," Jo said, gesturing with her wine. "It's not our dog--we're just the baby-sitters. Like cool aunts who drink too much and send him home full of treats."

"It's my mom's," Celina added, setting the bottle of wine down. "She dropped him off before she went overseas."

Dani bent down, scratching gently behind Kenny's ears. "He's got good taste. I'd pick this place too."

"You have no idea," Jo said. "The other day I opened the fridge and found a slice of pizza missing. I blamed Celina. Turned out the dog had figured out how to paw the door open."

Dani's eyes widened. "Wait, he can open the fridge?"

"He's a menace," Celina said fondly.

"A smart menace," Dani murmured, smiling now. "You sure he's not just a roommate with boundary issues?"

Jo laughed. "That's disturbingly accurate." As she turned back to the pasta, she caught Celina watching her. Not possessive. Not worried. Just soft. It made something in Jo's chest ache a little, in a good way.

"So," Jo said, keeping her back to Dani as she stirred the pasta one last time. "Should I be nervous that you're about to steal my girlfriend?"

Dani turned red in half a second. She blinked fast. "What--no! I mean--I--definitely not. I'm not--stealing anyone. I don't even steal staples. I always replace them."

Jo grinned. "Relax. I'm teasing. Food and light roasting are complimentary here."

Dani buried her face in her hands and groaned. "Oh my god."

"She's mean," Celina said, handing Dani a glass of wine. "But don't worry. She does this to everyone."

"It's a service I offer," Jo said, draining the pasta. "Light roast and a home-cooked meal."

Dani peeked up between her fingers. "I'm not stealing anyone," she repeated, still flustered but grinning. "I'm barely figuring myself out. This is like the boss-level side quest."

Yeah, Jo thought, glancing at Dani again as she dished up the food. She liked her.

They settled around the table with bowls of pasta, garlic bread, and the wine flowing easily now. Kenny made one final appearance--nudging the back of Dani's knee with his nose before being firmly redirected by Jo with a piece of crusty bread. "She thinks everyone's her best friend if they have carbs," Jo explained. Dani had stopped checking her posture every five minutes and was even teasing Celina about her taste in podcasts.

Jo let it ride a while--she liked watching the two of them spark--but eventually, she leaned back in her chair, glass in hand, and caught Dani's gaze across the table.

"Before we get too comfortable--I want to clear the air on one thing," she said, not unkindly, but direct.

Dani blinked, shoulders straightening a little as she set her glass down. "Okay."

Jo rested her elbow on the table, fingers brushing her lip thoughtfully. "Celina tells me everything."

There was no judgment in her tone. Jo didn't want her to feel scared--just seen. Dani stilled.

"I know about them. About the performance targets. And the... extra motivation Celina gives--if you know what I mean." Her lips twitched slightly. "And I'm not just okay with it--I encouraged it."

Dani glanced at Celina, who gave her a small, steady nod. Jo saw the way Dani's shoulders tensed again, like someone still bracing for rejection, even after being welcomed.

"I don't like secrets," Jo said gently. "Not in this house. And I figure if you're going to be part of this orbit--even a little bit--you deserve to know the light's on and no one's hiding behind the curtain."

Dani looked down for a beat, then back up. "Thank you," she said quietly. "I--I wasn't sure if it was weird to ask."

"It wasn't," Jo said. "It was smart. And honestly? I respect the hell out of you for it."

Something shifted then. The air between them thinned and softened, and Dani's expression opened up--protective walls crumbling beneath Jo's quiet kindness.

"I'm not here to stand in your way," Jo said. "I care about her. And if she cares about you..." She glanced at Celina, who watched them carefully. "Then I want to know you. Honestly."

Dani's smile was uneven, but genuine. "I'm working on opening up more easily."

Jo lifted her glass and met Dani's eyes. "Then you're exactly where you need to be."

The pause between them wasn't empty; it was filled with quiet understanding.

"I don't take it lightly," Celina said. "Inviting someone into this space. Into... any part of it."

Jo smiled faintly. "Celina's a vault until she's not. Then you're stuck with her. I care about what we're doing," she said to Dani. "And I care about making sure it feels right. For all of us."

Dani nodded slowly, her thumb circling the rim of her wineglass. "It does," she said quietly. "Inasmuch as I can make sense of anything."

"That's fair," Celina said. "There's no rush. Just honesty."

There was a moment of quiet. Then Jo leaned forward again, grinning. "Alright, I think we've done our share of deep thoughts for the evening. Anyone want cake?"

Dani laughed--real and light this time--and Celina relaxed into her seat, the corner of her mouth tugging upward.

Jo returned from the kitchen carrying a small plate of cake slices--chocolate and orange glaze, rich and slightly lopsided. "I didn't bake it," she said, setting it down with mock seriousness. "So it's probably edible."

Dani smiled as she took a slice, still a little pink from earlier but clearly more at ease. Celina watched her, then tilted her head slightly, curious.

"So," she said, "who's the girl in all your photos?"

Dani blinked, mid-bite. "Sorry?"

Celina clarified, tone casual. "On Facebook. There's someone who shows up a lot. You're always laughing together - usually with a filter."

Jo grinned. "The one with Donald Trump hair?"

"Yeah," Celina said. "That one."

Dani laughed, relaxing even more. "That's Kayla. She's my best friend. We live together."

"She the one who picked out that green-grass jumper?" Jo asked, gesturing towards it with her wine glass.

"She did, actually," Dani said, mock-defensive. "She said it brought out my eyes."

"She has good taste," Celina said, then added, "You talk about her a lot, too. We thought she might've been your partner."

Dani blinked, cheeks tinting pink. "Oh - no. Nothing like that. Kayla's a church-goer. And she's never dated anyone."

"Never?" Jo asked, genuinely surprised.

Dani shook her head, a small, wistful smile playing at her lips. "Not once. Not in high school, and not since."

Celina raised her brows. "Does she ever talk about why?"

Dani felt a flicker of anticipation -- she'd sensed this conversation coming but wasn't sure how she wanted to answer. "Not really," she said softly. "She says she just hasn't met the right person." It wasn't something Dani had ever pushed -- not because she wasn't curious, but because Kayla always seemed so steady, so complete in her own way.

Jo leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. "Do you think she's queer?"

Dani hesitated. Her mind drifted back years, to when they were nineteen, sharing a crummy apartment with terrible Wi-Fi. Kayla had left her laptop open on the couch once, and Dani, just meaning to close it, caught a glimpse of the browser tab: 'Girls kissing'. It hadn't felt like a secret worth dwelling on--around the same time, Dani herself had been searching for things far less tame.

With a small, wry smile, Dani said, "I figure most people are a little bit gay."

They both laughed softly.

"She's got this soft spot for women's football that feels... suss."

"She's got this soft spot for women's football that feels suspicious."

The dog let out a low whuff from outside. "Even Kenny agrees." Celina pointed out.

Jo nodded. "Plus, she picked out this cozy, sapphic jumper -- which pretty much makes her guilty by association."

Dani laughed. "I don't want to assume. She's private about this kind of thing. I figure if there's something to say, she'll say it when she's ready. Plus, she was the first person I trusted to tell."

Jo's expression softened. "That says a lot."

"Yeah," Dani said, her voice quieter now. "She didn't even blink. Just said, "Hi Gay, I'm Kayla."

Jo let out a bark of laughter. Celina covered her mouth, eyes crinkling.

"She really is." Dani agreed, smiling fondly. "It was so casual, like I told her I'd switched moisturizers or something."

Celina tilted her head. "You ever talk about it again?"

"Yeah, I mean, we talked about it yesterday over coffee."

Jo's brows shot up. "Wait - yesterday?"

Dani hesitated, then nodded. "Last week. Like... properly said it out loud."

Celina blinked, eyes softening with understanding.

Dani shrugged, her fingers tightening around her wineglass. "Sort of. How many people do you have to tell before you've actually come out?

Jo leaned back. "Dani, you're new to this."

Dani huffed a laugh. "Is it that obvious?"

"A little." Celina said, not unkindly. "But not in a bad way. Just - we weren't expecting you to be that new."

Jo nodded. "It's not nothing, walking into a room like this when you're still figuring it all out. You're doing better than most."

For a second, Jo's smile faltered. She saw herself standing at the doorway to the kitchen of her childhood home - lavish as it was - and the words caught on her tongue. She'd started to say it--Mom and Dad, I think I'm gay--but then the silence in the room grew too loud. So she turned around and walked away.

Back in the kitchen, she exhaled softly. "Took me longer than I want to admit."

Dani looked down and blushed, and not sure what to say next, said nothing.

Jo continued, "You're doing better than most."

Celina raised her glass. "And you brought wine. Which is always a winner."

Jo raised her own glass. "To Dani, who brought wine. And to Kayla, who clearly deserves a statue or a medal."

Celina raised her glass higher, grinning. "Hi Gay, I'm Kayla."

Jo and Dani laughed and repeated, "Hi Gay, I'm Kayla", and the three women clinked glasses.

They played a mess of a game -- part trivia, part charades -- but Jo couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed so hard watching someone try to pull off an impression of a wombat giving a TED Talk. Dani was a bit awkward, sure, but her timing was spot on. Jo had always been a sucker for someone who could fully commit to the bit.

By the time they were packing up, Dani looked more relaxed than when she'd arrived. Her laugh came easier now, and her shoulders had finally dropped from their usual tense perch near her ears. Good signs, Jo thought.

Jo began stacking plates, the clink of ceramic filling the quiet room, while Celina bent to gather stray game pieces scattered across the floor. Dani moved to help, but Jo shook her head with a smile. "Guests don't do dishes. House rule."

"You've got a lot of rules," Dani teased, grinning.

"Only the important ones," Jo replied, nudging her shoulder just enough to make her stumble a half step, and Jo caught her with a quick smile.

The scrape of shoes on the floor and the soft rustle of coats filled the space as they prepared to leave. Jo pulled Dani into a brief, firm hug--warm but measured--then stepped back with a small, sincere smile. "Come back soon. And bring Kayla. I want to meet the legend."

Jo's eyes flickered briefly with something she didn't say aloud -- a hope, a quiet invitation. Dani caught it and smiled back.

Then the door closed, and it was just Jo and the leftover warmth from laughter.

She drifted to the shadows of the doorway without thinking, a mug of now-cold tea in hand, and watched as Celina walked Dani out. The two stood beside Dani's car in the kind of quiet Jo didn't need to hear to understand. Kenny wandered out, stood beside Jo, and wagged his tail, seemingly watching as well.

Celina's posture had changed-- her shoulders dropping as her hand hovered close but not quite touching Dani's.

Then Celina leaned in. The kiss was slow. Careful.

Yeah. She'd seen this coming. But it still made something in her chest loosen.

When the car finally pulled away, Celina lingered on the curb for a few seconds longer, eyes tracking the red tail lights as they disappeared into the quiet street. Jo watched from the window, lips curling into a small, knowing smile.

She didn't say anything when Celina finally came back in--just turned back to the sink and resumed rinsing dishes, letting the sound of running water fill the comfortable silence.

Celina didn't say anything either. She padded up behind Jo, slid her arms around her waist, and pressed her cheek between Jo's shoulder blades. Jo stilled only for a second before she leaned back slightly into the embrace.

"Well?" Jo asked, hands still in the suds. "She kiss you back?"

Celina hummed. "Mm-hmm."

Jo grinned. "It's all in the jumper."

Celina didn't let go right away. Jo liked that--liked the way she could feel the contentment radiating off her, the way it settled in her bones like the last glass of wine at the end of a good night.

"You think she'd ever be up for... you know, playing with the whole team?"

Celina pulled back just enough to look at her, one brow raised. "It's a bit soon for that."

Jo smiled. "Just a thought." She couldn't help herself. "Right?"

Celina smirked. "She looked like she would combust every time we said the word "queer"."

"Which just means she's still defrosting. Not a no. Not yet a yes."

"Not every side-eye means "please ask me to have a threesome with you"."

Jo turned, suds still clinging to her fingertips, and kissed Celina lightly on the mouth.

"Okay," she said. "We take it slow. Let her breathe. But if she ever decides she wants more?" Her grin deepened. "I volunteer as tribute."

"I'd be surprised if you didn't." Celina said, teasing, as she helped her dry the dishes.