Page 19 of Secretary's Obsession

Stalking closer, his fists clenched, George kept his voice low. “You have a phone right there on your desk. A man who was good at his job would be picking up that handset and speak to the occupant in the penthouse suite, informing him that George Maybank is in reception. I’m not the type to cost you your job, as you seem to think I am, but…” he reached into his pocket and pulled out his own phone. “If I call the occupier of the penthouse suite and let him know someone at the front desk is preventing me from going up to see him…” he trailed off expectantly. Most men in that position would at least consider his suggestion.

The concierge was clearly built from stubborn stock and shook his head vehemently. “That demon has lived up there since this place was built. He does not have visitors. I have had no notification from him that he’s expecting company this afternoon or any afternoon. For the last time, leave these premises, or I will call security.”

There was a thread of fear behind the strong words. George could smell it, and that wasn’t an unusual reaction seeing as George was probably twice his size. The problem was the concierge was standing firm, and in his own weird way, George respected that. “I’ll make my call outside,” he said, saluting the man with his phone as he went back out the door he’d just come through again.

Tapping Scott’s contact number, the phone barely rang once before Scott answered. He sounded breathless and his voice poured out of the phone speaker in a rush. “George? Where are you, George? Have you been taken again? Do you need me to save you?”

George chuckled. “No, I’ve not been taken again. I didn’t get taken the first time, remember? I’m…”

“Well, why aren’t you here? I have all this stuff, cushions, and things, so you’ll feel comfortable in my space, but I don’t know what you like. I don’t know how to arrange the things, so they look right. There’re boxes and packaging all over my floor…”

“Scott. Scott!” His poor demon seemed to be having a meltdown. “Look out of your window. Look down to the public parking lot.” George stepped out of the awning of the building entrance, moving far enough away from the building so he could see the windows of the penthouse suite. “Are you looking out of the window? Can you see me?”

“I can see you. Thank goodness. I can see you. Why are you down there? I need you up here. I ordered all these things, and theyarrived, and now I don’t know where to put anything, and my space is all so messy…”

“Scott, honey. When you arranged for the delivery of everything you bought to help me feel comfortable in your space, did you tell your man at the door I was coming? Only…”

“He won’t let you in? Oh, no, no, no…” Scott groaned loudly. “I ordered the stuff, and then I had work to do, and then I went to see the paramedic, and I… I… don’t go anywhere. I’m coming. I’m coming, George. Oh, no, oh, no, oh, no…”

There was a loud clatter—the sort of noise George equated with an anxious demon dropping his phone and running out of the room. He moved back so he was under the awning, and waved at the concierge who glared at him through the glass.

Seconds later, and it genuinely could only have been the length of time it took for Scott to come down the elevator, Scott came running into the foyer, yelling, “You ass, you’re fired. You should’ve picked up the damn phone,” pointing at the concierge as he kept running to the door.

“George. Oh, George.” Scott was puffing as he opened the door, causing it to slam into the wall with a loud bang. His face was red, and his hair was definitely askew, a sight that warmed George’s heart. “Come in. Come in. I’m so sorry. I was so busy organizing everything else. This man is my blissful one, you asshole,” he yelled at the shocked-looking concierge. “Do you know how rare they are and how amazing it is that I have one?”

“He was protecting your privacy, Scott,” George said gently, not at all surprised that Scott was in a position to fire the concierge. Demons preferred to own and control their environments, and it made sense that Scott would own the building, now he thought about it. “That’s what you pay him for. You can’t fire him for doing his job.”

“I can.” Scott pouted rather dramatically. “I absolutely can if I want to.”

“But you don’t want to. This gentleman and I have met now. He knows I’m allowed in the building, so there won’t be any trouble from now on, will there?” George quirked his eyebrow at the man, who was visibly shaking.

“No, Mr. Maybank.” The man shook his head so fast, George worried his hair would fly off. “I didn’t know. I know now. It won’t happen again.”

“See?” George said at the still pouting Scott, which was adorable because those dimples seemed to dance in the sharp planes of his cheeks. “He won’t do it again. So we can go up now and work on straightening your space, so you feel comfortable in it.”

“I bought so much stuff,” Scott mumbled, but he let George lead him away. “I really wanted you to be comfortable, and my demon said my space is sterile. So, I clicked and clicked, and it never seems like a lot when it’s in a cart online, but then it arrives, and there were just boxes and boxes…”

“Hey, hey, hey.” George waited until the elevator door closed before pulling Scott into his arms, inhaling his mate’s unique scent, settling both him and his bear. “I did say you didn’t have to do anything. I understand you like all your items arranged in their correct spaces.”

“I can’t help that I do.” Scott seemed to cling on for a second until the elevator door dinged, indicating they’d arrived. “But look at all thismess.”

George put his arm across the elevator door to stop it from closing. “Scott, hon, you do realize this is the hallway.” There were a lot of boxes, some empty, a few half open, and the rest still taped up. “Were you planning to unpack it all out here and then move it into your apartment?”

“My apartment’s alreadyfull.” Scott grabbed his hand and hurried him down the hallway, dodging boxes and even kicking one that got in his way.

He tapped a few numbers into a small box on the side of the single doorway George could see and flung open the door. “Just look at it all.”

At first glance, George couldn’t see anything wrong with the space at all. It was a wide open-plan room. There was a solitary couch, in white, that stood out in stark contrast to the dark wooden floors. A single television screen was the only thing adorning the white walls. The penthouse had enormous windows, which let in a lot of light and a gorgeous view of the setting sun. Beyond the “living area,” and George used that termloosely, he could see pure white cupboards in the kitchen area, and countertops that shone despite being black granite.

What am I missing?George looked around, especially around the couch area. He noticed three bright cushions, one yellow, one red and one blue, put in a neat pile by the side of the couch, which was why he missed it before, and there was also a rug. It wasn’t big, but it was similar in color to the one George had in his own house.

“There’s a lot of room on the floor,” he offered, not sure what Scott was getting upset about. “Were you short of cupboard space or bookshelves?”

“I’ve got bookshelves.” Running across to the wall, Scott pressed on a panel under the television, revealing a hidden cubby hole that was lined with shelves. They were stacked full of colorful cushions and soft throw rugs. “They’re full up. I’ve still got to find space for all the stuff in the hallway.”

George bit his lip, trying so hard not to laugh at the meltdown. “What about in the bedroom? Cushions are nice on the bed.”

“I’ve done that, too.” Scott disappeared down a hallway to the side of the kitchen. “Come and see.”

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