Jericho was almost positive his brain had short-circuited. That was definitely him. He was standing on a stage in the world’s most boring tuxedo, receiving an award of some kind. “Holy shit.”
“What’s it say about him?” Felix asked, leaning forward to prop his elbow on the corner of the desk and resting his jaw on his palm. Of course, Felix wanted to follow the money.
Arsen squinted at the screen. Jericho wished he’d just wear his glasses. “He’s a doctor and a science doctor. He heads a research company where they study gene therapy for orphan diseases.”
“Orphan diseases?” Levi echoed.
“Rare diseases,” Jericho clarified absently.
“Oh, that’s nice,” Felix said. “What else does it say?”
“He’s adopted. Has six brothers. Used to be engaged to a woman.”
The three other boys seemed to all lean in at once, like vultures. “Is there a pic?”
Arsen typed furiously. “This is her Instagram.”
He showed the screen to the others. “She’s pretty enough,” Felix said. “But that’s a gold digger if I’ve ever seen one.”
Jericho didn’t know if he’d call her pretty. She was conventionally attractive, if somebody liked that sort of thing, but she had a pointy face and a cold, calculating look in her eye that made Jericho think she spent a lot of time asking to speak to somebody’s manager. He couldn’t picture Atticus—his Atticus—cozying up to that ice cube with boobs.
“You said ex, though, right? So, he’s free and clear.”
Jericho sighed. “Except, he’s a total closet case. Said he’s ‘not gay’ right before he shoved his hand in my pants.”
“One of his brothers is married to a man and the other is engaged to one. So, clearly they are not homophobic, right?” Arsen asked.
Jericho scooted Arsen out of his seat and closed the laptop. “It doesn’t matter. It was just a hookup. You guys go find something else to do. I have to work on the books for a bit before bed.”
The looks on their faces said they didn’t believe him, but they all trudged from the office as ordered, closing the door behind them. A minute later, the television was blasting and they’d all moved on.
Jericho opened the laptop, but not his bookkeeping app. He just stared at the pic of Atticus. His eyes really were so blue. He had a strong jaw, a roman nose, full lips that Jericho knew from experience were soft and supple and parted so easily for him.
He slammed the laptop closed and rubbed his hands over his face. He needed to move on. This was what happened when he didn’t get laid enough. He started to hyper-fixate. He couldn’t obsess over this completely unattainable man. He couldn’t. He just had to deal with the fact that they were like ships passing in the night or whatever that expression was.
Fuck.
* * *
Jericho cleared his throat, drawing attention to a small blonde with a headset. She gave him the ‘one moment’ finger.
After a second, she flicked her gaze up at him, a smile coming alive on her face as if he’d triggered some kind of sequence. “Hi, how can I help you?”
“I’m here to see Atticus Mulvaney.”
“Oh,” she said, surprised. “Is Dr. Mulvaney expecting you?”
Definitely fucking not. Jericho wasn’t even expecting to be there. “No, but if you could tell him Jericho Navarro is here. I think he’ll make time to see me.”
She frowned at that but gave a stilted nod, clicking a button. “Hi, Dr. Mulvaney—yes, sir. I know you said you didn’t want to be disturbed but there’s a man here to see you.” She paused as she listened. “Yes, sir, but he said you’d make an exception. His name is Jericho.”
Her eyes went comically wide. “Yes. Okay.” She looked at Jericho with a newfound interest. “Once I buzz you back, make a left, and then another left. Look for the large office at the dead end. Dr. Mulvaney said he’ll be right with you.”
Jericho followed the woman’s instructions, letting himself into the modest sized office. The size was where that modesty stopped. The entire wall behind Atticus’s desk was covered in degrees and accolades. There must have been a hundred of them. Jericho couldn’t help but smile. He certainly had a psychopath’s ego. Normally, Jericho would say he was overcompensating for something, but having seen the man pantless, it wasn’t that.
Before he could fall too deeply down that rabbit hole, the door flew open. Atticus entered, closing the door firmly behind him and then locking it. Interesting. Seeing him up close again was a shock to Jericho’s senses, his body instantly aware.
He watched as the older man shirked off his lab coat, hanging it beside a tweed blazer. He wore a crisp white button down and tailored houndstooth dress pants that clung to his thighs and cupped his ass. Tortoiseshell frames highlighted his pool blue eyes. Jericho caught a whiff of expensive cologne as he passed.
