Page 34 of Office Affairs

“You’re tall.” Keith squinted up at Russell. “Do you play football?”

“I did.” Russell twisted and reached into a basket behind him and pulled out a football. “You want to play?”

Keith took off so fast his feet might as well have rockets on them. “Throw it to me.”

“You don’t have to do that.” I crossed my arms and tried to tell my stomach to stop flipping around. It ignored me.

“I want to.” Russell raised his arm and lobbed the ball at Keith. “Go on inside and look around.”

Might as well go ahead and tell him the truth. “Russell, I can’t afford this place. It doesn’t matter how much I like it.”

His brows crashed together.

“Catch, Mr. Russell.” Keith lobbed the ball toward Russell, forcing him to look away from me.

He caught the ball and spun it around in his hands. “Go look, Sabrina. If you don’t like this place, we’ll look at something else.”

“But—”

“Go.” He cut me off with a dip of his chin. “Let me worry about the price of this place. All I need from you is whether you like it.”

I liked anything that got me out from under Bailey’s thumb. But finances didn’t change with the shift in seasons. I wasn’t going to be able to live here. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to look around, see what I liked and didn’t like about the place. That would give me more to go on later when I made inquiries.

Leaving Keith and Russell passing the ball back and forth in the small front yard, I entered the house. The amount of natural light filtering in through a series of bay windows on the far wall forced me to stop and admire the open space. Small but tidy, it had everything Keith and I needed. A full kitchen held brand new stainless appliances and a small breakfast nook. The living room housed a couch, recliner, and a single TV perched on a farmhouse-style entertainment center. An unfamiliar sensation pinched my chest. What was Russell trying to prove by bringing me here? I made my way down the hallway to the left, where I found a small bedroom and bathroom painted in dusky blue. The second hallway led to a master bedroom with attached bath. Russell just happened to have a two bedroom, two bath house for rent? I’d never heard Dad talk about this.

Tears pricked the backs of my eyes. I stuffed them down. I was tired, overwrought with decision fatigue, and completely emotional. But I didn’t cry. I smoothed my hair back and marched to the front door. Stepping out onto the porch, I stopped in my tracks again. Russell and Keith sat on the top step, shoulder to shoulder and heads bent together.

“Then, this one kid dumped a whole bottle of soap into the teacher’s chair. He tried to run away, but he slipped on the soap and fell. Wham!” Keith smacked his hands together. “Busted his head. Had to get ten stitches.” Awe and morbid curiosity widened his eyes. I’d gotten a similar play by play yesterday. But this, Keith talking to Russell like they were not complete strangers staggered me.

Russell turned at the sound of my step toward them. He palmed his knees and stood. “So. What do you think?”

“I love it.” Keith bounded over to the rocking chair and climbed in.

I secured my grip on my arms, crossing them tight over my stomach. “We can’t afford this.” I reiterated my earlier statement.

Russell gave me a look and quoted a price that I knew damned well was a third of the market value.

I grabbed his elbow and pulled him to the far end of the porch. “I’m sorry about the weekend.” His quiet smile disarmed me. “No apologies. Kids come first.”

“What are you trying to do?” I couldn’t let him get beneath my defenses. I needed to understand his plan.

“Nothing.” His shrug was casual, and the way he leaned in to touch my cheek almost melted my resolve. “Let me help, Sabrina.”

My pride flared. I wished I could say that I didn’t need any help, but we both knew that wasn’t true. I didn’t know whether to be flattered or offended that he knew I needed help. I took a step back, needing the space to clear my head from the intoxication of his cologne and the heady press of his body heat against my chest. “What does this mean for us? You helping me like this. What do you expect in return? What do you get out of it?”

18

CHASE

What a fucking week. It was finally headed toward the weekend, and while I never truly relaxed, I was looking forward to a day where I didn’t have to make a single business decision. Pain throbbed in my temples. I rubbed at the ache while making my way through the empty coffee lounge. The moment of peace and quiet before the employees showed up and the building turned into a beehive of activity was my favorite of the day. I took a breath of the fresh coffee brewed by the barista and let the silence sink into my soul. I’d need that fortitude in the upcoming weeks, especially knowing I’d have to see Sabrina again soon. The quiet scrape of a cup forced my eyes open.

The solemn barista nodded toward the large cup sitting in front of me and turned away to resume her duties without a word. The woman deserved a raise with all the bullshit she put up with. Grabbing the cup, I tossed some bills in the tip jar and made my way to the private elevators, all while drafting a note to myself to call HR.

Even the opening and closing of the elevator doors seemed muted this morning, like nothing wanted to penetrate the quiet bubble. I sank into my chair and sipped the rich dark roast with a contented sigh. Movement flickered in the security cameras to my right. People filed into the building in a steady stream, signaling the beginning of the workday. I set my coffee aside and jiggled the mouse to wake up my computer. My inbox needed attention as I’d been neglecting it this week in favor of seeking out our thief, but it couldn’t wait any longer.

A new email sitting at the top of my inbox with a priority star drew my attention. The sender’s name: GradyInt made my blood chill for no reason other than they’d mimicked my company. It was the subject line that curled my fingers around the mouse and tore a growl from my throat. Seeing our names in the subject bar could only mean one thing. Someone had beef with us. The root cause likely lay in the email itself, unless the whole thing was a setup, a virus. It would take a damned good hacker to get a virus through our firewalls and protection apps. We had created the best in the world. I checked the CC line and found the email had been copied to the entire staff.

“Fuck you.” I clicked the email open and sat back in shock as an image of me and Sabrina popped onto the screen. It was of the day I’d interviewed her, the moment just before she slid into my car and we headed to my house. She stared up at me in the photo, her face flushed, while I looked at her with an expression so full of lust I almost didn’t recognize myself. Hands fisted so tight they shook, I read through the entire email, then read it again. Fury boiled in my veins. The email itself was a snide insinuation that I gave Sabrina the job because we were in a relationship. Not true. But the picture was damning. It was none of their fucking business. Sabrina had all the qualifications I’d been looking for in a candidate for executive assistant.

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