Page 14 of Falling for Them
“Oh, yeah,” I say.“Just need a word.”
He knows everything is not okay, but he’s happy enough to pretend for the next minute while we walk side by side to my office.I open the door and let him in first.
As he steps through, I catch a whiff of strawberries.
Her scent clings to him.
Does he know how lucky he is?My fists are clenched and I have to consciously release them.I have to let the tension in my shoulders go, as well.
This is about proper workplace behavior, I tell myself.It isn’t about a cute little maid.It isn’t about the fact that I couldn’t sleep last night because I was thinking about her and it made me so hard, it was painful.
“So, what’s up?”Joel asks.
“I wanted to talk to you about how things are going here,” I say.“You’ve been working late.If I’ve learned nothing from running this business, it’s that we need work-life balance or we burn out.”
“You’ve been working late, too,” he says, grinning.
“Guilty as charged.”I go to the minibar and pour myself a whiskey.“You want?”
“Sure, thanks.”
I pass him the glass and pour another one for me.We each take a sip and I allow the silence to settle between us.Let him wonder if this is just a fatherly chat about work-life balance, or if there’s an ulterior motive.
I didn’t raise a total idiot, because he takes another sip of whiskey and says, “I’m not letting pleasure interfere with my work.The Ruberetta accounts are looking fucking fantastic, I swear.”
“I know, I’ve been checking up on them periodically,” I say.
Joel cocks his head and looks irritated.“You’re watching my work?”
“No more and no less than I check up on everyone else’s.”I take another sip of whiskey and enjoy the smoky taste as it burns down my throat.“You’re doing fine work.”
It could be better, but I’m still trying to keep him at ease.It won’t do me any good if he goes storming off before I get a chance to say my piece.
“Well, good, I guess,” he says.
Another sip of my drink, then I sigh.“So, about this pleasure you’re not letting interfere with your work.”
“She’s not going to make trouble for us.Technically, she doesn’t even work for us.”
“She works for a company we hired, I know,” I say.
“Watching that, too?”he asks, a sardonic lift to his brow.“That’s fucked up, Dad.”
I catch myself before I rush to reassure him that no, I’m not watching that.Let him think I’m watching.Let him think I’m checking up on every damn thing he does.
“Is it serious between you two?”I ask.
He shrugs.“Not really.She’s convenient.”
“I thought as much,” I say.“I saw you at Vice the other night, with someone else.”
“She was convenient, too.”
Another flare of anger moves through me.“Do they know they’re ‘convenient’?”
“I don’t know.”He finishes his whiskey.“Thanks for the drink, Pops.”
Cute.Real cute.
