He also understood that Pharrell wasn't fully present at the moment, so anything that came up and needed handling, he brought my way. He specifically asked for some email in which Pharrell had spoken to an associate and they had outlined terms for a contract. He needed them since he hadn’t been copied on the email. It was one of many things Pharrell hadn't been able to complete before shit hit the fan.
Once I found the email, I forwarded it to Pierre along with a note that he could reach me at my direct number should he need anything, since Pharrell was probably going to rest.
At least I hoped he was going to rest.
I suggested it as soon as he was back in the room, but my boss shook his head. "No, I think I need to be up for a while. I'm not tired just yet."
We both knew it was a lie, but before I could interrupt him, Pip strolled into the room. He wasn't carrying any large weaponry today. That didn’t mean he wasn’t strapped down with multiple small lethal ones.
Short black hair. Eyes that were cold as ice but could turn hot in a flash. Strong arms and hands covered in scars, showing the years of fighting and near-death experiences.
The man was a terror. Both to our enemies and to me.
I couldn't understand why he poked all my buttons so much.
It could be his obsession with violence and gore, or it could be the way he absolutely refused to call me by my actual name. Being so simple, there was no way he could mess it up, yet I had been Henny for as long as we’d been introduced.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice firm as I looked him up and down.
He leaned against the desk, crossing his arms as he stared between me to Pharrell. He looked my way again, his eyebrows raised.
"Just checking in to see if there's anything I'm needed for. I'm a little bored these days, what with no one to torture or kill."
Pharrell didn't make a sound. He was too busy staring at his computer screen. I would have thought he was reading something, except it was obvious his eyes had glazed over.
He was lost deep in his thoughts, and there was no chance he was going to answer Pip's unspoken question. I leaned back in my chair, putting space between the two of us. Pip always gottoo close to me at first. It was like he didn't understand what a personal bubble was.
I think he couldn't be close enough to someone, despite the fact that six feet was a reasonable distance to stand and still understand the other person you were talking to.
Hell, I would have taken four feet, maybe three if I was in a good mood. But it felt like the tips of his shoes would touch the tips of mine until we were breathing the same air.
"I’m sorry you don't have anything to get your hands dirty with right now. We're more concerned about business dealings and recouping lost money. There's also lingering threats, but we can't go in guns blazing for that."
Pip rolled his eyes. "I know that, otherwise I would have already killed all those assholes. It would be easy work to take them out. I could even be back in time for dinner. Wouldn't you want me around for dinner, Henny?"
I crossed my arms, unintentionally mimicking him. "I don't want to have dinner with you, Pip. I have enough things to take care of. At the end of the day, all I want to do is consume enough to keep me fueled and go to bed."
He uncrossed his arms and placed his hands on the edge of the desk. The move made his forearms flex, and I couldn't help but stare. Pip wasn't an overly large man, though he did have a good amount of muscle. I had no doubt that underneath his loose clothing there was even more, but my eyes were homed in on what I could see.
I'd always been a bit of a visual person that way.
Out of sight, out of mind. And Pip was no longer out of sight.
My need for visual intel was why I kept such rigorous notes and schedules. I needed to constantly be reminded of things, or else that pesky object permanence would kick in, and I would go a year or more without remembering something.
"See something you like, Henny?" he asked, purposefully flexing his arms.
It drew my attention away enough to stop my staring. I tried to play it off, though we both knew what I'd been doing.
It was hard not to look when presented with something so enticingly masculine. Even if I wasn't a big fan of the person underneath all the muscle, I could take him in and see the beauty of it all.
He was art in a way, and I could always appreciate a good marble statue from time to time.
"I lost my train of thought," I said, making my voice draw out as if coming from a trance. "What were you saying?"
From the look he gave me, I knew he could see I was deflecting. Thankfully, he didn't press me any further. Instead, he dove into questions about the business and asked if there was any way he could help.
"There isn't anything right now. I just need you to keep an eye on Pharrell." I pointed to him.
