ELLIE
“How’s it going with Asher?” My dad’s jovial voice isn’t exactlybooming, but it makes me jump nonetheless when he walks into my office and gets straight to the point. No triple-knock, no usual warning, justbang.
My heartbeat skyrockets, sweat threatens to crest my brow, and my breathing shallows.
Play it cool, Mitchell.
Even when Iknowhe’s talking about wholesome things—campaign performance, the apprenticeship—my mind jumps straight to my favorite memories of Asher and just how well things are going with him. Sheets gripped beneath my fingertips, country music on in the background as we’re both sweating, coming for one another again and again. The way I’ve taken to saying his name over and over each night, like a prayer, a plea, a surrender. Just his name alone makes me weak now. Chills, a flush, tingles absolutely everywhere.
Keeping that off of my face is proving to be a challenge for me.
I have a hard enough time not oversharing with people in general, but when it comes to trying to keep something from my dad? My close friend, business partner and confidante in most of my life’s issues for my entire existence? There’s been a learning curve attached, to say the least.
“He’s doing so well,” I tell him truthfully. “His performance has been beyond what we could’ve hoped for.” Also not a lie.
“Still working on Nelson’s?”
I nod, my ever-present smile on my face. “Mmhmm, yeah, and plenty of others, too. Nelson’s is mostly running itself now, but there’s still In the Books we’re doing custom illustrations for on a regular interval, and about a dozen others that got added into his lineup that he’s been working on over the past couple of months, at least with me. I know he’s doing his morning slot on the other side, too. I’ve heard nothing but good reports about him so far.”
“Good, good, glad to hear it,” my dad tells me, chest puffed, a proud look on his face.
I nod, waiting to see if there’s anything else I need, if that was it, if I can fan myself off and cool down after that little memory montage that played at the sound of his name.
My dad strolls closer, pulls the seat out across from me and makes himself comfortable.
“Hey,” he starts off gently. “I wanted to find out from you what’s going on with Nelson’s account. I know there was a hiccup in the beginning, but is he profitable with it now?”
I force myself not to roll my eyes, huff out a breath, or react in any visibly emotional way. Take a calming inhale, exhale it smoothly, and maintain my professional composure. “Seven weeks into his campaign, and he’s reporting a twenty-five percent increase in traffic during the lunch period, which was the window we were asked to target. I don’t have access to his specific figures, seeing as to how it’s not an online store we’re driving traffic to, but a real-life one, and we’re at the mercy of the information he’s willing to share with his account manager, but he seems happy as far as I can tell. I’m certainly happy with the response we’re getting so far.”
Thomas steeples his fingers, nods his head in thought a few times, not a single, smartly clipped gray strand on his head moving with the motion. “So all that noise earlier on…?” He lets the question hang, and my blood boils at the memory.
“I have my suspicions,” is all I tell him.
“Tony?” he asks, brows raised.
I nod once, wordlessly. Easy to get heated on the topic ofthatguy, and since he’s the one who made me a laughingstock in my own fucking arena thanks to earlier emotions where he’s concerned… I keep my mouth shut.
“Right,” my dad says with finality. He hates the petty shit between one of his longest-running, top sales guys and his own daughter, the face and future of his life’s work, but he needs both of us, so he thinks, and no other resolution has presented itself yet. Tony’s certainly not going to magically become a decent person. I don’t believe there are many bad seeds out there, I tend to find the good in most, but he’s not my favorite seed, I’ll say that.
“It wouldn’t be the first time he told a client he’d twist an arm or two for them, make sure they were getting their money’s worth,” Thomas finally concedes after a moment of quiet. “Sales tactic he’s used to keep clients happy with him before.”
Fold my lips in over my teeth, bite down a bit so I can’t let any of those ever-terrifying female emotions out in the workplace. God forbid she show passion about something that’s important to her. Even if the other person deserves to be called the fuck out on their bullshit. Alas, to people like Tony, that’s a right reserved for those endowed with the penii, as my bestie would call it.
“What do you think our chances are as far as keeping Asher on for another few months?”
My brows dart up, and I try to act mildly surprised, not completely shocked at the idea.
“Extend his apprenticeship? Or offer him a job?”
My dad tilts his head to one side. “Either. I think there are some other traditional accounts we’d like to pilot with Darling, you two at the helm, after the numbers you’ve been sharing lately. Whether he would do that in a temporary or permanent position, I’m not sure.”
“I can say with full certainty I don’t think he’ll accept a job, but I’m not sure if he’d be willing to extend his apprenticeship under certain circumstances?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. That’s a conversation for him. But I know he has his own reasons for being here, so if it were more advantageous to him to stay here a bit longer, give him more of what he’s here for, while still making it worthwhile for us…I don’t know, he might be open to it.”
“And he’s getting what he wants from you?”
