Page 2 of Just Business
“I am.” Sam shifted back. Eli’s cane tapped against the floorboards.
He wasn’t sure when he’d grabbed them, but there the résumé and cover letter were, in his hands. He held it out. “I’d like to apply.”
Oh, he’d surprised Sam. And holy fuck, Eli’s brows were up in his hairline, too. Mr. Emotionless... wasn’t.
Sam took the papers and read the cover letter right then and there. Flipped the page. “You’re attending the Tepper School?” Sam looked up.
“Part-time. I graduate in the spring.” Nine more months.
“Who’s your advisor?” Eli demanded in that clipped voice of his.
Justin squared his back and met Eli’s dark stare. “Don Miller.”
Eli’s lips parted ever so slightly. Another crack in that façade. Probably because Professor Miller only took on the best.That’s right, you smug bastard.Yes, Justin dressed like a goth artist. Fit in well at the coffee shop and annoyed the fuck out of his classmates. Didn’t mean he wasn’t good. The grin and the shrug were a bit of theater, but Justin couldn’t help throwing that at Eli. “I’m more than a pretty face, you know.”
Sam laughed and Eli... blushed. Ever so slightly, but color touched his cheeks. Goose bumps rose on Justin’s every limb. Eli’s stare wasn’t so cold now, nor indifferent. He couldn’t put a name to it at all.
“I guess we’ll find out whether that’s true or not,” Eli said.
“When are you free?” Sam folded the papers.
“I have tomorrow off. My classes aren’t until the evening.”
“Then you have an interview at nine tomorrow morning.”
Relief—pride—ripped through Justin even as his heart threatened to gallop out the door. “Thank you. I’ll be there.”
“Good. See you then.” Sam turned and headed for the door.
Fuck yes!He would nail this! He would—
“Justin.” Eli hadn’t moved, his gloved hands folded over the silver handle of his walking stick. “Don’t be late.”
Fucker.“Don’t you worry. I always come right on time.”
That icy exterior vanished entirely. Eli held Justin’s gaze andsmiledbefore he turned and followed Sam.
Justin sank onto his stool because his legs didn’t want to work. He couldn’t tell if the emotion behind the curl of Eli’s lips had been amusement or malice.
He shook himself. Didn’t matter.Bring it, asshole.He’d ace this interview. For himself, for Mercy, and for his family.
***
Eli Ovadia climbed the stairs to Anderson Consulting and, for once, his leg didn’t scream at him when he reached the top. That smart-mouthed barista was one of Don’s students? Unexpected. Either Don was growing soft, or there wasquitea bit more to Justin White than dark clothes, black nail polish, and too much eyeliner around those blue eyes. A pretty face, indeed.
I always come right on time.
Now,thatwould be interesting to test, to have Justin’s lithe body under his. A different ache settled into his core.
Too bad Justin’s personality was everything he hated in a man—snarky, smirking, and too full of himself. A hot mess.
Would be fun to break a man like that.Eli shook himself.Get your mind out of the gutter.
Yet... there was something familiar about Justin, in his nervousness and determination. Those stunning eyes.
Just a bit like Noah, that wicked grin.
Eli stopped and sucked in air. He wasn’t even sure what Noah would look like now, had he lived—but certainly not like Justin White. Still, the fear and hope that rode under Justin’s skin was so like Noah before the car crash.
