“Huh?” I keep my brows down, smooth the muscles in my forehead, force the relaxation to take over my face, keep it from twitching.
“He’s learning what he came to learn from you? He’s happy with how that’s going?”
“I think so.” My face shrugs more than my shoulders do.
My phone buzzes on my desk, face down. I glance at it, but don’t get it yet.
“You two seem like you’re working well together.”
“We are.” Another smile. Another buzz.
“I’ll let you get that,” my dad says, pointing with his head at my phone.
I tilt the phone, see what the notification is, try my damndest not to blush, and keep it face down. “It’s fine. Not a work thing.”
“Not everything in life is about work, Ellie bee.” My dad’s voice floats over his shoulder as he leaves me alone in my office to ponder his words, the meaning behind them. And check my phone. Definitely, definitely check my phone.
Asher has us using a different app to message one another now. Something secure, encrypted, all done with anonymous usernames, it needs your face ID to even access the new messages, and then they’re deleted automatically… Sounds kinda 007 for the little task we have of keeping our relationship a secret, but it’s working so far.
I log in to see what he’s sent me and can’t stop the blush that overtakes my features when I do. His very original—and mature—username makes me give a single chuckle every time I see it. He’s such a horny dork and I adore him for it. His messages are a little more mature, at least in nature.
LoverBoy6969
Miss the way you taste
Think I could have my fave meal for lunch? Or sooner?
Not sure I can make it another 2 hours and 14 minutes
13
12
The messages start to vanish one at a time, only lasting a set number of seconds each, and I watch them begin to disappear off the screen, from the top.
I look up from my phone, smirking, hoping to catch a glimpse of Asher walking by or something—these morning stints where he’s on the other side of the building are no longer my favorite few hours of the day, but my least. I’m even working better when he’s in here with me now, despite the teasing and flirting he sneaks in at any given opportunity. It’s like his proximity, the energy between us, it unlocks some kind of magic that isn’t just about sex, but improves everything in its vicinity. Creativity, efficiency, HBIC mode, all of it.
My entire body flies a good several inches into the air when I realize there’s already a body next to mine. A prickly sensation crawls all over my skin and seeps down into my tendons, making a run for my bones, when I feel, more than see, his eyes on my phone screen.
Tony.
My finger pushes the button to turn my screen off on instinct, but I have no idea how much he saw, or if the messages had already vanished. My eyes narrow on his, the smarm in that gaze, and I stand from my chair.
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, sorry,” he says, the words dripping with slime. “Am I interrupting something?”
“You could try knocking,” I tell him, like it’s just general life advice and not a threat to his balls.
“Care to tell me why your dad just told me not to stir up any shit with Nelson?”
I place both hands on my desk and lean closer to him, where he stands on the side of it. “Care to tell me why you’re stirring up shit with a long-term client whose campaign is successful?”
Those ruddy eyes narrow on mine as he scowls. “I’m holding you accountable, you little brat. Don’t fuck up my accounts. He’s been a friend and a client since you were in diapers.”
“And you treating his account like it’s still 1992 is what almost cost you it,” I tell him in my calmest possible voice. “Me andmyteam are bringing it into the modern age. You’re welcome. Now get out of my office.”
His scowl deepens, and the seething anger rolling off of him is palpable. Even still, I can’t resist the chance to take an open shot at him. “Oh, and send me an email if you need something next time.” I make my voice super helpful, then I say, “If you can’t figure out how to use anything other than a stone tablet, I’m sure the IT department would love to help you overcome that.” I give him my best saccharine feminine smile, the one he thinks is all I’m good for, and wait for him to retreat.
