“All the calls?” That explains why the office phone is so quiet.
“Yeah, students, other schools looking for instructors, you name it.”
“Give me your phone.” Palm out, I wait. After he hands it over—reluctantly I might add—I repress the urge to smash it, instead set about loading some apps. “I’ve put everything on an online calendar and can send you daily emails with the following day’s schedule. I’ve also set up reminders about when orders need to be completed. Like jet fuel.” I give him a knowing smile and hand back his phone.
He scans the screen. “It all looks good, I’ll give you that,” he says and I catch his eyes darting away from me.
I pick up the office phone. “What’s the code to stop forwarding the calls? It’s my one mission to make that thing shut up.” I nod to his phone that, coincidentally, hums with vibrations.
He types in the code and for a moment it’s blissfully quiet. I take advantage of that silence and send all the calls to voice mail, as it’s quitting time soon.
“This calendar is really nice,” he says, the app open on his phone.
Stepping close, I tap some empty space highlighted green. “There’s some free time on Thursdays that’s not accounted for. Anything I can put into that time?”
He shakes his head. “That’s my time. I don’t work for Mark then, so you can’t schedule me for anything.”
“OK. Very mysterious.” I wag my brows.
“Same for my time at the college. My office hours there are not flexible. I’ve a chance to land a full time teaching job if I apply for my Ph.D.”
“How can you possibly manage all that with all this?” For added emphasis, I push over a pile of papers and let them slide across the table, stopping when they collide with the next pile.
“I just will,” he says with a shrug. “I don’t have to take the position, but it’s a great contingency plan.”
“And here I thought this place was your lifeblood.”
“It is.”
“Then why would you need a contingency plan?” I toss that zinger out, not expecting an answer.
We stand in silence for four beats.
“How’s your brother?” I ask, conceding the point to McRae. I used to have contingency plans for my contingency plans.
“Fine. Busy with school.”
“What’s happened with Mel?” I sit on the corner of the desk and start swinging my foot, glad I painted my nails a fire red last night.
He licks his top lip and clasps his hands in front of his crotch.
“Mark and I got a lawyer involved right away like you suggested. Mark was pretty resistant at first. But we’ve managed to contain it. Thanks for the advice.”
“My pleasure.”
“Hey,” Zach calls as he comes into the room. “You two doing all right in here? I guess you’ve met already, but I thought I’d come to see if everything was going well.” He stands in the doorway, his hands tucked in his back pocket, his eyes bouncing between us.
“Yeah, we’re good,” I tell him while McRae steps back.
“You two aren’t fighting or anything, right?”
“Why would you think that?” I ask.
“Because I feel like I interrupted something.” Zach shrugs.
“No, it’s all good.” McRae tells him.
“You’re Smitty, aren’t you?” I ask, putting together the pieces of the phone call from our trip down.
The kid ducks his head and says, “Yeah, that’s what all the guys call me. You can too if you want.” When he looks at me, I can tell how much he really wants me to call him Zach.
“That’s OK. I’ll stick with Zach.”
“Good,” he says with a nod. “I mean, good that y’all ain’t fighting. I’m heading out then.” He points to the door and gives us a wave as he leaves the office.
“Your Smitty is your best employee,” I tell McRae over my shoulder.
“I reckon he is,” he says.
Having exhausted all aspects of polite conversation, with the exception of the weather, I resort to fidgeting with the ancient computer I found on the desk I’ve claimed.
“I’ll be in my office if you need me.” He gestures to the smallest of the three offices.
“OK.” I bite my lip and stare down at the word QWERTY.
Holy hell, if we keep dancing around all this sexual tension, one of us is going to become unhinged. Likely me.
Seven
I arrive early to work, excited to spend the morning organizing the papers in the main office. I can see it coming together. By the end of the day, I’ll have most of the office set to make everyday operations more seamless. Then I’ll tackle the books, set up some spreadsheets, and map out how everything is restructured so McRae won’t get his panties all bunched up and complain about being out of the loop.
Staying busy keeps my mind off the limited communication I’ve had from Will. I’ve dreamt of hiring a computer hacker to search the Florida driver’s license system for him, but I don’t have the money or access to a hacker. Nor do I want to spend time in jail for a felony. I have no leads. No idea what he could be doing for a living. Apparently he never finished his family-mandated law degree, as his name doesn’t pop up on any school website nor has he taken the bar exam.
Pushing aside my anxiety regarding my brother, I force myself to focus on what I can control, the organization of this office and my desires for McRae. At least I hope I can control that. Good luck if he shows up today looking all Top Gun.
I carry the files of past accounts receivable and payable to the storage room and tuck them into a box, label it correctly, and rest it on the top of the filing cabinet so I can climb the stepladder and store the box overhead. I sense McRae come into the room before I hear him, so I turn and smile. He looks like he’s just landed a badass fighter plane and my pulse sprints off on a mad race.
“You’re early.” I wasn’t expecting him for another hour.
“Yeah, my student cancelled. He’s home with the flu. You need any help?” He nods with his head toward the box I just pushed on the shelf.
I climb down a rung and lean against the ladder, resting my hip on a step and look up at him. I can’t stop smiling. “No, I’m all done in here.”
“Where is everyone?” He indicates with his hand to the hanger that lies beyond the storage room door.
“Zach went home early. Something about a study group with a cute girl, and Mark called. He’s in Arizona. You’re in charge. That happens a lot doesn’t it? You get to be the boss without really being the boss?”
He narrows his gaze at me. “Mark’s grooming me to buy into the business. This is just his way of doing it.”
I pleased that I managed to swallow my snort of disbelief. It’s easy for McRae to go into a tailspin; I’ve found that to be common with all anal-retentive people.
He shifts and looks over his shoulder. “So it’s just us?”
I can’t tell if it’s because he’s nervous or concocting a plan. Does he think I might seduce him? Well, I suppose that’s a high probability. All it’ll take is one crooked grin from him.