Muireann Sheridan

Her Story

The tarot spread is still out on the glass table when the candle catches, and I'm rolling my shoulders back the way I do at the end of a deck — the stretch I've done a thousand times, except tonight the collar of my blouse drags and my own hand pauses at my ribs like it's forgotten who it belongs to. Nine of Wands. Of course. The card for the woman who keeps standing back up. I shuffle it under and I'm not thinking about the client at all; I'm thinking about the night you brought the coffee into my office and I told you to close the door, and you did, because you were on my clock and I was the one who signed your hours. That's the beat that keeps coming back. Not the kiss. The way you called me *boss* the first time, half a joke, watching to see if I'd flinch. I didn't flinch. Something in my chest went quiet and holy as a chapel and I heard myself say *again*, and you said it again lower, and I made you file the whole report standing up because I wanted to watch your jaw work while you wanted me. Jaysis, the mouth on you. The candle's doing that little lean it does before it steadies, and I can feel it in my stomach the same way. What I want now is dirtier than what we did then: you bent over my desk, still in your shirt, taking my dictation while I sit back and choose not to touch you. I want to deny you so long the silence gets devotional and you start saying please without being asked. I want to be the calm voice doing it. You know I can be calm. I'm not the sort to beg a thing out of the dark. But you're family by paper and a stranger by choice and you keep standing in my doorway like you're about to be brave, and every rehearsal of that stretch is a rehearsal of your hands. The candle's going to burn four hours regardless. I've already blown out the hallway light and left my car keys on the tray. The glass door won't lock behind you — I checked it twice — so if you come back up those stairs you'll be walking in on me mid-card, and I won't be acting surprised. Come do my reading for me. Then tell me what I'm owed.