Chapter Fourteen
Friday, July 15, 2022
“Have you given any more consideration tothe offer?”
Elijah looked up from his computer screen as his boss strolled into his office.
He’d been expecting Jefferson Fellows to make an appearance. After all, it was Friday afternoon, and he doubted the man could go the entire weekend without getting a final decision from Elijah.
“I have,” he said, leaning back in his chair and waiting for him to take a seat. “I still don’t have an answer for you.”
His boss, a portly man with a rotund face and shrewd brown eyes, stared back at him. “Why did I know you were going to say that?”
“Because you know I don’t make decisions lightly?”
A small smile formed, but his eyes remained discriminating, as though he could will Elijah to make a decision with his cold stare.
“Is it the money?” He gave a one-shoulder shrug that made his round body jiggle. “I can see if there’s wiggle room with the salary, but—”
“It’s not the money,” he interrupted. “There are other factors at play right now.”
It wasn’t like he could tell the man that he wasn’t ready to make such a big decision when there were other things—more important things—going on in his life. Elijah wasn’t sure he was ready for too much more right now with his relationship with Sam and Logan delving into new, unexplored territory. And the job, while it would keep him at home the way he wanted, would come with more stresses on top of the ones he was already carrying.
“I just need a little time to think about it,” he said.
“I’m not sure how long the board will wait to get your decision.”
Elijah had considered that. Knew they wouldn’t wait for him forever. “Understood.”
The man’s beady eyes narrowed slightly. “But I can stall for a little while. How does a week sound?”
He figured it would have to do, so he nodded in agreement, wondering when he should broach the subject with Sam and Logan.
An hour later, Elijah was pulling into the garage. During the drive, he’d turned up the radio and done his best to shove thoughts of work and promotions and future decisions out of his mind. He was looking forward to dinner with Logan and Sam, followed by a weekend of doing as little as possible. He was mentally and physically exhausted, and some downtime was just what the doctor ordered.
When he stepped into the house, he was greeted with silence. He knew Logan was home because his car was parked in its usual spot, but he heard nothing to signal what the man was doing.
He set his laptop on the kitchen table and turned, noticing Logan was in his recliner, leaned back, staring at the dark television.
Oh, boy. The only time the man did that was when he had a lot on his mind.
“Hey,” Elijah greeted, wondering if he needed to tread lightly.
Logan didn’t move, and a grunt was his only response.
“Where’s Sam?” he asked, making his way to the cabinet where they kept the liquor. It had been one hell of a week, and he wanted to kick off the weekend with a drink.
“Out.”
He grabbed the Hennessy from the shelf, then retrieved one of the highball glasses sitting beside it. While he waited for Logan to elaborate—which he didn’t seem ready to do—he poured two fingers of cognac and tossed it back.
Maybe that would help with the stress that tightened his shoulders and had a tension headache forming in the base of his skull.
When Logan offered nothing more, Elijah sighed softly.
“Well, I guess I’ll change and figure out something for dinner,” he said, leaving the bottle and the glass on the counter before strolling past Logan toward the bedroom. He glanced back once to see that Logan was staring after him, his eyes dark, his expression unreadable.
Problems with work, maybe?
