So I push aside what I want to say and find the voice of the man I’m pretending to be.
“Of course not, Sir. I will have these to you by tomorrow morning.”
Which means I’ll be working late tonight if I want to get this done correctly and to his liking.
“Good boy,” he says with a grin, tearing his vicious gaze from me.
And then, like before, he just… breezes right past it. Like it doesn’t matter. Like I don’t matter.
And I realize as I feel the heat still staining my cheeks, that I am well and truly fucked.
Because if there is one thing I know for sure, it is that Sloane Pierce is going to be more of a challenge to get close to than I thought.
When one-thirty rolls around, I finally have a moment to breathe, but not for long. Because the minute we get back into his office, Sloane heads to his desk and starts rattling off his lunch order.
“Call Sambo’s and tell them I want the BLT with a side of tomato soup, not the bisque. Side caesar sans the parmesan, and a cranberry buckle and—”
I feel his gaze on me as I type away on my phone, noting his order.
Silence forms as I realize he’s waiting for me to speak.
“What else?” I ask, licking my lips. My stomach growls loudly, and I feel the embarrassment hit. Though Chickadee told me the kitchen is open all day, I barely had time to take a piss with these back-to-back meetings, the tour of the facility, and the general meeting of unequivocal minds that is the man I work for.
“Whatever you would like,” he says with a dismissive wave.
“Oh, that’s um… I am good, I’ll just—”
“Did I ask you a question?” he says, turning to look at me. He crosses his large arms in front of his chest. I can smell his cologne from here—thick and cloying. I swear it smells like sin itself. Like leather and musk and charred wood, but… morerich.
I wish I could say I disliked it, but in combination with his sharp eyes, his perfectly designed jaw and those ample, pouty lips… fuck.
Everything about this manscreams,“I will destroy your soul.”
I can see why Robbie would have been attracted to him, though he claims Sloane was a different man then.
But I guess money and instant success will do that to a person.
“No, Sir,” I say, feeling the heat of his gaze.
“Then do not argue with me, Oliver. Get yourself something to eat.”
His gaze holds mine, and I nod. “Yes, Sir.”
I quickly scroll through the take out menu and put his order in, but when I see the prices of the food, I consider Door Dashing fast food.
Twenty-five dollars for a burger seems ridiculous…
I settle on a chicken salad sandwich on sourdough bread with romaine lettuce and a side salad with Italian dressing, being as it was the cheapest option. I’m not sure how expenses work for this job, but at the library, I covered my own meals since I was off the clock for lunch. Robbie worked in information tech and covered his own lunch, so I think it’s safe to assume this won’t be much different.
No employer wants to pay you more if they don’t have to. It’s one of the constants in the world.
“How long?” Sloane asks, nonchalantly tapping away at his computer. I swear I haven’t seen him relax all day. All we’ve done is go from meeting to meeting, and in between that, he’s spent most of his day orienting me and shouting things at me tonote.
Watching him, seeing his gaze lost on his screen, the LED blue lighting him up like some invested gamer, makes me stop. I can’t help but stare.
From this angle, he looks younger.
Younger than forty-five, anyway. I mean, don’t get me wrong, he looksgoodfor his age normally, but something about how he looks right now…
