Page 1 of Perfidious Passion

Prologue - Aaron

FEB. 7TH - FRIDAY

“Mr. Walker, we would like to offer you the position of Managing Editor."

Holy fucking shit. No way.The effort it takes to keep my eyes from bulging out of my skull is tremendous, butthis is it!All these years of climbing the ladder to make it here and now I've finally heard the words.

Managing editorat Platinum Prose Editing.

I took a shot when I applied here, knowing that being a few steps down at a smaller agency probably wouldn't catch the attention up here in their skyscraper in Minneapolis. Christ, the place I worked for was fully remote, too, and definitely doesn't have the kind of author clientele this place does.

"Mr. Walker?"

Blinking, I unstick my tongue from the roof of my mouth and give Mr. Norris, the executive director, a grateful smile. "I accept. Thank you so much."

A throaty chuckle draws my attention to Mr. Andrews, my new boss, and Platinum Prose's editor-in-chief. He's one step down from the executive and just one above me, meaning I will be reporting directly to him.

"You're going to fit in well here. You can show your excitement, Walker, no need to be so collected," Mr. Andrews teases with a grin.

I laugh, thankful my new boss isn't a hard ass. "Well, thanks." My appreciation is endless, so I'll keep thanking these guys for the foreseeable future. "Seriously."

Mr. Norris gives me a clipped nod while looking at his watch that pings with a message. He must be in his late fifties or early sixties, but I'm pretty sure the lines on his face speak of a happy life. My guess is confirmed when he snorts and stands. "Sorry guys, my daughter is home from college this weekend. Apparently, an old man such as myself shouldn't be working past four P.M. on a Friday."

"Ah," Mr. Andrews drawls and leans back in his chair with his arms behind his head. "Yes.Oldmen such as yourself definitely need a curfew. Need to get home before dark, you know? Keep everyone safe."

I'm uncomfortable chiming in, seeing as I don't have a friendship with these guys,andI now work for them. The executive laughs and waves my boss off without seeming offended. "See you Monday, Mr. Walker," Mr. Norris says with a firm shake of my hand as I scramble to give him a professional goodbye.

"Have a good weekend, sir." My grin borders on excessively large, so I tamp it down and ignore the ache in my cheeks.

The chair behind me creaks at the same time my executive wishes me the same and closes the conference room door behind him. I turn to the other man in the room and ask if he needs anything else from me before Monday.

"No, we're good for tonight. You will have a ton of paperwork to fill out on your first day, though." With a stack of papers tucked under his arm, Mr. Andrews digs a Post-it out of hispocket. "Come, I'll show you to your office. You can come by anytime this weekend to get it set up."

Walking through the crisp halls, we come to a row of offices with beautiful mahogany doors.I can't believe I work here now.

"I'm right down the hall. This is from the IT team," he says, handing me the Post-it note with a long code on it and instructions on how to change it.

"Thank you," I say and take the paper.

Mr. Andrews nods and starts backing away. "We had new furniture delivered yesterday. Really nice stuff, I'm jealous. Have a good weekend, Walker!" he says and turns the corner, leaving me on my own, in front ofmyoffice.

Fuck, I can't wait to tell Lilly and the guys!

Lilly

FEB. 7TH - FRIDAY

I'mnotgood at cooking. Box mac-and-cheese is complicated enough, and of course, this website has like eight million ingredients to make a fancy version of cheese and noodles. The motivation I had to cook the guys a meal from scratch is rapidly dwindling. I can't remember the measurements for longer than five seconds.This shouldn't be this hard.

Growling at the shredded Gruyere cheese that took me forever to find at the store, I measure out two cups, spilling some of it as I go because,of course,I have to make a mess.

With a sigh, I nibble the inside of my cheek while swearing to myself I'll clean it up before I feed the guys. I don't want them to come into a dirty kitchen and, most likely, ruined macaroni. Shaking my head, I attempt to dislodge my worries.

They won't be mad. I'm doing a nice thing.For shit's sake, they're the best men... They won't actually be upset with me for messing up the kitchen. Although Aarondidclean it before he left for his interview today.

With a huff of annoyance at the bout of anxiety that's trying to steal more of my good mood, I finish with the cheeses. My afternoon continues similarly, with laughter echoing up from the basement and Lady Gaga thumping around me.

I made Dean and Caleb promise to let me make them something by myself. Who knows what trouble they're getting up to down there?

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