Page 11 of The Swap After Hours

“I’ll need the notes?—”

“Already in your email, Mr. Marshall.”

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye as I entered my office. “Good. I also need you to make cop?—”

“Copies of the contracts for your meeting with Sinclair Division, Inc. Already done and on your desk for your final approval. I also called Mr. Jacobs with the Turner Group and set up a meeting for Thursday afternoon as you requested, and I was able to get you an appointment for a haircut on Wednesday evening.”

Unbuttoning my suit jacket, I started to shrug out of it, but Trevor was already there, pulling it from my shoulders. I turned, regarding him closely as he hung it on the hook behind the door. “I thought you said you’d never worked as a personal assistant before.”

He spun around, his sky-blue eyes registering concern. “I haven’t. Why? Did I mess something up?”

I shook my head. “Quite the opposite. I’m very pleased with your work. In fact, you’re doing so well, it’s hard to believe you’ve only been my assistant for a short time. It’s like you can read my mind sometimes.”

Trevor’s grin was contagious and I found myself fighting the urge to smile back at the charismatic younger man. He was extremely good looking with expressive blue eyes, dirty-blond hair, and a full-bottom lip that looked almost pouty except when it was stretched into a smile like it was right then.

“I listen and pay attention, that’s all. But thank you. I’m glad you’re happy with my performance so far.”

I studied him curiously as he slid his own jacket off and hung it over the back of his chair. His shirt had small creases from where he’d leaned back during the meeting, and his hair was in need of a trim but it only added to his overall appeal.

His phone beeped and he picked it up, smiling at whatever was on there. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was a text from someone special. Despite us working side by side every day, I admittedly knew very little about my assistant.

Of course, that was my doing, not his. Trevor was friendly and outgoing, making friends easily with the other staff members. He’d tried numerous times to make idle chitchat with me, but I’d shut him down each time. There was a line which couldn’t—shouldn’t—be crossed at work.

I knew I had a reputation around the office as being a bit of a bear. I’d once overheard an employee calling me cold and detached, and while I didn’t agree with that assessment, I was fine with the people I worked with believing that.

There were certain aspects of my life that I intended to keep private and if that meant holding my employees at arm’s length, so be it. Especially one particular employee, who was already beginning to find ways to put a few chinks in my armor after only a few short weeks. All the more reason to keep my distance.

Still, that didn’t stop my curiosity. Where was he from? What did he like doing in his spare time? Did he have someone important in his life? I shook my head at that line of thinking, forcing it from my mind. It was none of my business who he chose to spend time with. He was my employee, nothing more, I reminded myself.

Vowing to focus on my work rather than the distractingly handsome man whom I shared an office with, I dove headfirst into my work. The rest of the afternoon flew by in a flurry of phone calls and meetings.

“Mr. Marshall?”

I glanced up from my computer to see Trevor standing in front of my desk. From the concerned look on his face, he must have had to say my name more than once.

“Sorry. What did you say?”

“I asked if you wanted me to order some dinner for you.”

“What time is it?” I asked, looking toward the wall of windows. The sun was beginning to set over the nearby buildings, the sky turning a beautiful pinkish orange color.

“It’s seven o’clock, sir.”

I rubbed a hand over my jaw, feeling the raspy scratch of my five o’clock shadow. The day had slipped away from me yet again. It was a nasty habit of mine. I often got too caught up in my work, forgetting to stop for things like eating and sleeping. If Trevor hadn’t interrupted me, I probably would have kept going until midnight.

“No. That won’t be necessary but thank you. You can head on out.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind staying if you need more help,” Trevor offered kindly, but I could see the tired lines around his eyes.

“I’m sure. Go on home, Mr. Reed, and enjoy your evening.”

“Thank you. Have a good night.”

I watched as he gathered his things then punched something into his phone. He held it up to his ear. “Hey, I’m leaving now. I should be there in about twenty minutes,” he said to whoever answered.

He gave me a quick smile and a wave as he walked past then slipped out the door. I could hear him talking as he walked out, his laughter echoing down the otherwise quiet hallway.

I stared after him for several minutes, until I heard the elevator ding, announcing its arrival and then I could no longer hear him talking. My office was suddenly quiet. Too quiet.

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