I arch an eyebrow at him. “Did you do anything interesting?”
“Nah,” he says, shaking his head. “Hung out with some friends, but that’s about it. I had to study all yesterday, so I didn’t get too crazy.” He jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “I gotta—”
“Of course.”
While my son may be a man of few words, he usually isn’t one to hide things from me – at least, I could have sworn he wasn’t, up until this exact moment. He never did speak to me about their date. He never even told me they were going on one. So if anything happened between them at that party, why would he tell me now?
Jesus, am I actually jealous of my own son?
I don’t bother Rowan with questions when she comes back. If she wants to play this teasing little game and keep secrets, then I’ll let her do exactly that, but I don’t want her out of my sight.
I load her down with tedious, menial tasks that aren’t entirely necessary and certainly below her pay grade. I don’t even have her leave to pick up lunch – instead, I give her my phone and instruct her to fill out an online order for delivery, which she’s responsible for bringing inside and dishing out to everyone who jumps in on the order.
She wears her annoyance with me on her face, making very little effort, if any at all, to hide it as she follows along, doing every little thing that I tell her to do. When she leaves my office to hand out lunches, Davisswings around the door, leaning against it with a smug grin on his face.
“You keep staring at that girl like you either wanna fuck her or kill her.”
Right now, it’s both.
“And you keep showing up uninvited to my office.”
He strides over to my desk and grabs my phone, punches in my password – which I now regret giving him. I’ll have to change that later – and he swipes through my screen, narrowing his eyes as he scans over it, then tosses the device back onto my desk.
“You need to get back on those apps, old man,” he teases. “You’re getting cranky again.”
“You need to get back in your office and put some pen to paper, asshole.”
A laugh roars out of him and he leans forward to brace himself on the opposite side of the desk.
“Seriously, you need some pussy. Get that stick out of your ass.”
“You think everyone always needspussy,” I retort.
“And I’m always right. Does a body good.” He reaches forward to pluck the bowl of salad from my desk, curling his lip in disgust before tossing it back in front of me. “Pussy and real food. Doctor’s orders.” As he stands to leave, I hear him say under his breath, “Ya fuckin’ grump.”
He’s not wrong, I’ve been downright miserable lately. Maybe I should just get it out of my system. I haven’t had sex in weeks; since Rowan and I started our little flirting game, actually. All of this pent-up need can’t be doing me any favors.
I make a mental note to consider downloading one of those stupid apps again, then I make another note to create a similar app for members of our collective. Maybe something that doubles as a social media platform we can use to update our members, and a dating app.
It might not make much sense to cater to a bunch of collectors, but it would be a decent way of weeding out the unsavories or the ones who just want to fuck a billionaire so they can cross it off their bucket list. I’ve had my fill of those over the years. It was fun at first, then it just got old. I’m ready for something with a little more substance. Surely, I’m not the only one.
I draft an email about the app, and a few idea bulletpoints that could be beneficial to add into the design, and send it off to the necessary teams, Davis included, because I know he’s going to be all over me about that. Hell, he’s gonna want to beta test the fucking thing.
•
After shutting everything down in my office for the evening, I grab my briefcase and stuff it with all of the work I want to take home with me.
Rowan’s bag is still by the door, waiting for her to collect it, and I find myself waiting right along with it. It’s dark out, and technically after closing. I might be pissed at her, but I’m not letting her go outside alone.
“Oh, sorry,” she says as she walks in and reaches for her things. “Didn’t think you were still here.”
“Sure am.”
“Well, goodnight, then.”
I follow as she walks out the door, purposely keeping her distance from me. A car that I don’t recognize pulls up and I take a mental image of the make, model and license plate number of the vehicle before I see Rowan lift a hand and wave at the man sitting behind the wheel, a flirty wag to her fingers and that same smile she used to offer to me. My body goes fucking rigid.
“Who is that?”
