Around eight fifteen, the door opened and he stepped out, talking to someone on the phone. I stood up and grabbed my coat to walk him out to the car. Sometimes he told me to go with him to the meetings, and other times he preferred me to stay behind.
Today was the latter.
Daniel disconnected his call and looked at me. “Put together our sales report from last week while I’m gone and call Henderson about the meeting tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir.” I placed my coat back down and watched him leave the office without another look my way.
“Morning, Mr. Sawyer,” Jen said as she passed him in the hall. He barely registered her. He just gave a slight nod of his head and kept walking. She shot me a raised brow look before going into the conference room where the marketing team was putting together a big commercial presentation for a current client.
Sighing, I plopped back down in my chair and scooted up to my desk, wiggling the mouse so my computer flickered back on.
Time to get shit done.
Two hours later, Daniel returned from his meeting. He unbuttoned his coat as he walked past my desk, and his cheeks were pink from the cold. Why did he always look so serious? Kind of sad, even. It was hard to believe the man in front of me was the same one smiling in that picture on his desk.
A whiff of his cologne touched my nose as he passed me, making it damn hard not to drool after him.
“Reports are on your desk,” I said, shoving those inappropriate thoughts to the back of my mind.
He nodded to me and went into his office, the door clicking closed behind him.
“You’re welcome,” I muttered to myself, then took a sip of freshly brewed coffee. It was my third cup that morning.
A message pinged on my computer.
Daniel Sawyer: At 11:30, order lunch from Mike’s Bar & Grill. I’ll have my usual.
Another message came through before I could type a response.
Daniel Sawyer: And order yourself something too. Whatever you want. It’s on me.
I smiled. He might be a too-serious hard-ass with an aversion to smiling and friendly manners, but he was an okay guy. Sometimes.
Me: Yes, sir.
I set a timer on my phone to remember to order lunch in an hour and then got back to work.
Chapter Two
Daniel
“You staying late again today?” Reed asked me around six o’clock that evening. Most of the office had left, apart from me, him, and the marketing manager, who was finalizing plans for a client pitch.
“Yes.” I had a meeting the next morning with my boss that I needed to prepare for and also review work from the creative team.
“Overworking yourself can shorten your life span,” Reed said in a matter-of-fact tone, still standing in the doorway.
I looked up from my computer.
His light brown hair hung longer in the front, and he stood at a whopping five foot eight inches. Maybe nine. When I stood beside him, I towered over him. Though short, he had a long, slender build and subtle muscle definition in his arms.
“I’m not overworking myself,” I responded, looking away from him and focusing on the email I’d been in the process of typing. “You should head home.”
“So should you, Mr. Sawyer.”
His tone made me peer back at him. His arms were crossed. It took all my self-control not to smile.
When Reed had first started working for me earlier that year, I had mistaken him for a pretty boy who wouldn’t last a month despite his impressive education background and resume. And there we were a year later with him being the best damn assistant I’d ever had. Not only that, but he wasn’t intimidated by me like everyone else in the department.
“Are you giving me demands?” I asked, keeping my expression neutral.
“No, sir.” Reed uncrossed his arms and let them hang at his sides. “I’ve just noticed you’ve come in early and stayed late every day for the past two weeks. They say there’s no rest for the wicked, but I think even Lucifer has to take a break every once in a while, ya know?”
I blinked. “You’re comparing me to Lucifer now?”
Reed balked at my words. “No! That’s not what I meant. Um.” He swept a hand through his hair. “Never mind. Is there, uh, anything you need me to do before I leave?”
Again, I fought a smile.
“No. Go home, Reed.”
“Okay. Cool.” He took a step back and bumped into the door. “See you in the morning, Mr. Sawyer.”
I sat back in my chair as he exited my office, leaving the door open. I watched as he shrugged on his coat and gloves before waving at me and walking away. As silence filled the room, I sighed and got back to work.
My gaze then shifted to the photo on my desk.
I didn’t recognize the man staring back at me. I rarely smiled like that, and I only did so then because it had been Regina’s birthday. She was the most annoying sister in the world, but I loved her.
After sending a few emails and getting everything sorted for the meeting in the morning, I grabbed dinner at an Italian place and headed home. Just like every other night, I despised the quiet. The emptiness. It was why I worked so much. I was lonely.
Fuck. I need a drink.
I grabbed the whiskey from my freezer and poured a glass before sitting on the couch.
My phone dinged with notifications. Some work related and others from a hookup app. After one too many failed relationships, I’d decided to create an account. I never let it go beyond a one-night hookup, though. I had no desire for anything more than a quick release.
“More” meant possibly getting hurt again. And my heart was too damaged.
I checked the notification. It was from a cute blonde with obvious lip implants.
Brooke: Hey, handsome. Busy 2nite?
I tipped back my glass and rested my head against the couch cushion, playing over how the night would go if I agreed to see her. We’d meet at her place or at a hotel, fuck hard, then part ways. And I’d end up right back where I was now, with a drink in my hand and a hole in my chest.
Instead of responding, I turned my phone facedown and took another drink.
It buzzed again.
I ignored it.
An hour or so later, I peeled myself off the couch and pulled at my tie as I walked to my bedroom. Once undressed and in bed, I glanced at my phone. I’d gotten a message from a guy with bulging pecs and a smirk that said he’d be more than willing to take anything I had to offer. We’d spoken once or twice before. The general hey, what’s up? How are you? We hadn’t met up yet, though.
MikeC: wanna fuk?
I went to put my phone away, then changed my mind.
Me: Is your place good?
MikeC: Yeah.
He sent his address.
I got out of bed, cleaned up a little, then threw on jeans and a sweatshirt. Before I could talk myself out of it, I left and drove to Mike’s house.
I’m so stupid. It was ten o’clock, and I had to be at work early the next morning for my meeting. I blamed his abs. I was bisexual, but I tended to lean more toward men. I hooked up with women sometimes too, but it was rare. Leave it to a young guy with a nice body to get me to leave my comfortable bed and meet for—hopefully—wild sex.
No matter how good the sex was, though, I knew that heaviness would crash back down on me later once I was alone again.