Page 40 of At His Beck & Call

His cheeks pink slightly as he places his coffee on the table. “Well, if you want to sort through the property deeds, that would be great. I think we can consolidate some of those into fewer boxes and stack them in the corner. I’m gonna start on the tax stuff, because we’ll need that summarized, and it’s pretty complicated to get it in the right order.”

“Sounds good.”

“Have you done this kind of thing before?” he asks suddenly, his brow furrowing.

“Well, I’ve worked as a PA in the past, so I know how to file everything logically if that’s what you mean.”

“Thank fuck,” he says with feeling. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

He’s undone the top button of his shirt, and his tie is loose, jacket off, sleeves rolled up. He’s really very good-looking, and I certainly don’t object to having some eye candy as I work.

Glancing at Oliver’s office, I wonder what he’s going to think when he gets here.

When Oliver arrives, we all hold our breath, anticipating an explosion. Even Adelaide, who knows him far better than me, looks nervous.

But instead, Oliver just stands in the conference room door, looking around at everything, his jaw clenching and unclenching as his chest rises and falls on heavy breaths.

Pulling out his phone, he stalks into his office without a word and doesn’t emerge again for the next two hours.

Adelaide hovers outside it, looking agitated, but doesn’t knock, and I keep my head down, not wanting to rock the boat.

Noah works like a demon and has barely taken a break since he began. We’ve talked a bit, but he’s mostly interested in the legal intricacies of the case, and I don't understand much of what he says.

A small part of me wonders whether he’s using legalese on purpose to confuse me. He’s a lawyer, of course, and must be used to speaking to other lawyers, but it does feel pointed sometimes, like he’s trying to sound impressive.

By the time I’ve sorted through hundreds of documents and emails pertaining to property deeds, we’ve managed to drag a lot of the boxes into the conference room, and there are only five left behind Adelaide’s chair.

Noah has been talking non-stop about an account the Reynolds have in the Cayman Islands, and sifting through sheets of paper at breakneck speed. I don’t understand how he can even comprehend what he’s looking at so fast, but somehow he manages it.

“Lissa?” I look up. “Mr. Heath has asked for you.”

My heart picks up, stomach flipping as I place the file I’ve been reviewing down and walk out of the room.

“Is everything okay?” I ask Adelaide. “You look worried.”

“I don’t know why he’s asked to see you,” she says, tugging at her collar. “He seems angry about all this. But I don’t know how I could manage the situation any better.”

Her forehead is puckered, a deep wrinkle worn by years of the same expression etched into her skin.

“You’ve done agreatjob dealing with it all,” I say sincerely. “Don’t worry. He might need me to do something mundane that he doesn’t want to bother you with.”Or go down on him.“I’ll go and see what he wants, okay?”

“Hm.”

Her lips thin as she nods, sitting back down at her desk, staring at the boxes as if they might start multiplying before her eyes.

I go to Oliver’s office door and knock, hearing a loud “Enter” from inside.

I step through the door, closing it behind me. Oliver is sitting at his computer, glasses perched on his nose. They’re thick, black, and send a little jolt of desire through me.

Fuck, the guy looks hot in glasses.

“What’s all the noise out there?” he growls, and I hesitate, coming to stand in front of his desk.

“Noise?” I ask.

“Someone has been talking nonstop for twenty minutes.”

I raise my eyebrows, glancing behind me at the door. “Oh, I think that’s the junior associate they sent for the Reynolds case.”