Page 17 of The Photograph

He raises his eyebrows. “What for?”

“Being a sounding board. Coming up with an idea.”

My phone buzzes several times on the desk, and James grins.

“Grindr?” he says, and I shrug.

“Maybe?” My mind skips back to the photograph I had from Alex.Strange guy.

And I don’t remember the buzzing until later, after I’ve waded into a few more arguments, dealt with complaints from existing staff, and pulled the team in for a full run-through of how everything is progressing. Two weeks back in the country and everything is going south.

The sun is disappearing over the East River as I walk up the street and pull my phone out of my pocket. Several messages are waiting. A photo is flagged up under Alex’s name and I hold my breath. He’s sent meanotherone? Whodoesthat? Well, I guess he gets points for persistence.

It’s a picture of his hand, resting on his hip. His naked hip. Well, I think it’s his. Could be someone else’s. And God, it’s a beautiful photo. A sort of pink tinge to it like he took it in the setting sun, and the shadows toward the center of his body hint at … wow. Two moles sit next to his fingers on his stomach … the blunt nails neatly trimmed and … it makes me want to kiss him right there and work my way down. Fuck. I don’t need to be thinking about that.

I bite my lip and let out a long breath. Why is he still sending me photographs? I hope he’s keeping safe. Grindr’s a brutal place if you’re not careful, and he had a sweet innocence about him that … Gah, Des, put him out of your mind. I like the photographs, but they’re starting to feel a bit like a taunt: Here’s my sexy body that I’m not going to give you access to. I laugh to myself as I drag my thumb over his stomach on the screen: the very idea of some crazy slow sexual torture … I shake my head. I’ve got to work all night tonight, and curiosity be damned, I don’t need something else to think about. My head’s not in the game enough at work as it is. My finger hovers over the delete button on his contact details in my phone. Then I press it down, click the off button, and slide my phone back into my pocket.Done. No more distractions.

Two days later, I barrel through the door to the meeting room and a tall Black guy who’s built like a linebacker gives me a gap-toothed smile and I slow to a halt.

“Yo! Des, yeah?” he says, stepping forward and holding out a big pawlike hand. “Roy.”

I grasp his hand. “Great to meet you, Roy.”

Blinking around, I take in a bunch of smiling faces.Thank God. Then Roy turns to the person sitting next to the door and says “Yo!” again, working through the group, saying hello, shaking hands, and getting their names as I weave through the chairs to the front of the room.He’s going to be terrific.My eyes tighten, and I pinch my nose.Roy stops to face another Black guy, and the polite enthusiasm drops away as his whole body eases. Then he fist-bumps and does some hand sequence, and my chest squeezes. I clap my hands.

“Okay, guys, let me do an intro to Williams Security and Samsung, our biggest client. I’m Des, and I’m second in command here and the lead on the Samsung project.”

But as I start talking, a shout rises up outside the room and I turn to see Rodrigo standing over Cath’s desk red-faced.Crap.I weave through the chairs and scoot out of the room as Cath lifts her head. Rodrigo is gesturing at the screen, jabbing at something with his finger, and when I reach her, someone is right behind me. It’s Roy, towering over me.

I could have a complete man crush on this guy if he was gay, but I’m not getting that vibe from him.

“Is there a problem?” I say.

Rodrigo scowls at me, ignoring Roy.

“This database, it changes all the time, and no one keeps a record of the history of it. The code was supposed to be finished. I need it to work on, but this spreadsheet says it will be done two weeks from now. That was not the original plan. It was due today.”

“Do you have anything else you could work on until the code is completed?”

Rodrigo’s forehead creases. “What do you mean?”

“Well, if it isn’t going to be ready …” I say.

“It doesn’t matter! Are you idiots?” His gaze swings around, encompassing the team sitting at their desks. “I keep telling you this approach is not fit for purpose and every time, someone”—his eyes swing back to me—“just keeps brushing it under the carpet.”

“We all understand you don’t approve of the system, Rodrigo, and I agree it’s not ideal, but as I’ve already mentioned, it will take a couple more weeks to get the new planning software running properly. We have to work with what we’ve got and make the best of it for now.”

He gestures at me. “Do you do that? Do you make the best of it rather than push for something better?”

“Yo, man,” Roy says in a deep rumble, “are you listening to the bossman? You’re wasting time here arguing, yeah? Just need to get on with it.”

Bossman.I want to do a little jig. Cath and I both stare at Roy, but he’s looking at Rodrigo.

Rodrigo scowls at him. “And who are you?” Then he shakes his head. “You’re right, this is pointless,” he adds, then marches over to his desk, grabs his jacket from the back of his chair, and heads out the office door. Has he left permanently, or is he just taking a break?

I smile up at Roy. “Okay, let’s carry on with this briefing.”

Jerking his thumb at the door, he says, “What’s his game?”

---