“We’ve got some stuff archived. Pretty basic, though. That’s why we need you.” I stop, turning to face him. The wind picks up, carrying snow across the water. “The previous person we had doing this wasn’t great. No vision, no follow-through. Just posted random photos whenever they felt like it.”
“What happened to them?” Ash asks. “If you don’t mind me asking.”
I shrug. “They didn’t fit what the role needed. We needed someone more dedicated. Someone who actually gives a damn about the work.”
“Well, I definitely give a damn,” Ash says, and there’s real determination in his voice. “I want this to work.”
“Good.” I clap him on the shoulder, and he rocks slightly under the impact. Shit, he’s lighter than I expected. Barely any weight to him. “Come on. Let me show you the office.”
We head back up the dock toward the main building. It’s a large converted warehouse, all exposed brick and high ceilings, with massive windows that let in tons of natural light. We renovated it a few years back, turned it into something that doesn’t feel like a goddamn dungeon.
I push open the heavy door and gesture for Ash to go first.
His reaction is immediate. Eyes going wide, he scans the space with obvious appreciation.
The main floor is an open plan, with desks scattered throughout and a kitchen area in the back corner that’s bigger than most people’s actual kitchens. Around the perimeter are six offices with glass walls, which keep things feeling open while still allowing for privacy when needed. Plants line the offices, hanging from the ceilings and sitting on shelves, adding life to the industrial space. It’s a good setup. Functional but not sterile.
“This is incredible,” Ash murmurs, spinning slowly to take it all in. “I wasn’t expecting it to look like this.”
“Yeah, well. We spend enough time here. Needed it to not feel crappy.” I point to the kitchen. “Coffee’s always on. Help yourself to anything in the fridge. Bathroom’s that way.”
I gesture toward a hallway at the rear of the room. “Spare offices are mostly for meetings or when someone needs privacy for calls.”
“And my desk is…?”
“Over here.” I lead him to a spot positioned near one of the floor-to-ceiling windows, with a clear view of the harbor. New laptop, comfortable chair, enough space to spread out. The desk is visible from most of the offices, but that’s just how the layout works. “You’ll be able to see us; we’ll be able to see you. Makes communication easier.”
Ash nods, running his hand over the desk surface. “It’s perfect. Really.”
“Get comfortable. Grab coffee if you want. I’ll bring you the social media phone and your login details for the laptop. Today you can just read through everything, get familiar with the accounts. Tomorrow you can start actually posting.”
“I’m ready,” Ash says, and that enthusiasm is back in full force. “I can totally do this.”
He’s nodding hard, and there’s something about the gesture that seems over the top. Like he’s trying to convince himself as much as me. Then he puffs his chest out slightly. “Yeah. Let’s make some killer content. Really strong stuff. Masculine energy, you know?”
I bite back a laugh.
“You know. Boats. Ocean. Rugged Alpha shit.” He’s gesturing with his hands now, and I’m not entirely sure he knows what he’s talking about.
“Right. Alpha shit.” I can’t help but grin. “Sounds good.”
He settles into his desk chair, swiveling slightly to test it out. Then he looks up at me. “So, do you live nearby? Like in town?”
“Yeah, up on the hill. Got a place that overlooks the cove.” I lean against his desk, crossing my arms. “We all live there together.”
“Oh?” There’s shock in his voice.
“We’re a pack,” I state, watching his face. “Run the business together, live together.”
Something flickers across Ash’s face. It’s hard to read. “That’s really good,” he says quietly. “One day I’ll find my pack.”
The words hit harder than they should. There’s real vulnerability there, underneath all the nervous energy and forced masculinity.
I reach out to pat his shoulder in what’s meant to be a reassuring gesture.
At the exact same moment, Ash reaches up to pat my arm.
His hand connects with my bicep with way more force than necessary, and I rock sideways, caught completely off guard.
