My father stood back at my desk, rested his palms on the wood, and leaned forward. “No more dating employees. I generally don’t have an issue with it between those on the lower rung, but you’re one of the top VPs in this company, and you’re my son. I expect you to hold yourself to a higher standard. Don’t make me change the company rules because you can’t keep it in your pants. Maybe it’s time you finally settled down. Between your sister, Linden, and you, there’s no sign of marriage and children. Your mother and I are tired of it.”
Despite being thirty-five years old, my father had reduced me to a seventeen-year-old. He was always good at that. My face heated, and I clenched my jaw to keep from snapping back at him. I’d spent my life trying to make him proud, including taking on a job I never wanted, but I’d managed to fuck things up constantly. Years ago, my therapist told me I acted out for attention, among other things, especially when I was a kid.
Without another word, my father turned on his heel and stormed out of my office, closing the door behind him.
Instead of exhaling my tension, it built up into rage, and I swiped my arm across my desk, sending paper, pens, and other office supplies flying across the room.
Fuck Tamara.
And fuck my father.
What was the point of working your ass off if you couldn’t enjoy life? So what if I had fucking needs? And me marrying? Finding a wife and having kids? No thanks. Tamara was a good reminder of how uninterested I was in marriage.
It was going to be a long fucking day.
It was nine-thirty after I wrapped up my first interview of the morning. She was now meeting with Linden, since she would potentially be working for both of us. We should each have our own PAs, but my father wasn’t ready to pay that kind of money yet. He believed that Linden and I should do most of the legwork ourselves and not rely too much on a PA.
When she left, I walked out of my office with my empty mug, needing more coffee before my next appointment with Atlas Stavros at ten.
As I walked past the reception area, I gave a brief smile in greeting to the man waiting on one of the leather chairs. Then I froze as recognition hit.
I turned to face Andrew with anger and distrust. Did he fucking stalk me and Linden? How did he find out who we were? What the actual fuck! Oh, I was going to fucking call the cops faster than his head could spin. First, a word…
He looked up at me, his black eyes growing wide as he stood and backed away from me, raising his hands, sensing the danger.
“You!” I hissed.
“Oh! Ah… Ah…”
“Mr. Cross?” said Mia, our receptionist. “Is there a problem? This gentleman is here for an interview. Do you know this man?”
That stopped me. Interview?
“I-I’m Atlas, sir. I swear to God, I had no idea you worked here. Please believe me.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, still filled with distrust.
“This is Atlas Stavros. He’s your ten o’clock appointment, though he’s early,” Mia said.
Atlas nodded so hard and fast that his curls bounced. “Yep. I-I’m here for the PA position.” He dropped his arms and tentatively leaned closer. “I had no way of knowing. I swear. This is purely a coincidence.”
I craned my neck back at the receptionist, who was watching us carefully, her hand hovering over the phone to call security. “Do you need to cancel your appointment, sir? Should I call security?”
I sagged, rubbed my face, and groaned before shaking my head. What a fucking morning so far.
“No, it’s okay,” I said and nodded. “I was… just caught off guard.”
“Very well.” Mia sat and answered the phone when it rang, no longer paying attention to us.
“Sit tight… Atlas. I need some more caffeine first.”
He swallowed visibly and tried to relax, but he shifted from foot to foot and didn’t know what to do with his hands.
“I’m sorry I lashed out at you.”
“No, it’s… fine. You’re a little scary, ha, ha… But yeah, I get it. You probably thought I was some stalking creep. I would’ve thought that, too.”
I took Atlas in and scanned his appearance. He looked the same, but different. He no longer looked like a naughty bottom, but a sophisticated young man with his olive suit that fit himlike a glove, and his pressed white button-up. It was his loud and bold paisley tie that stood out the most, but it worked.
