Page 64 of The Refusal

Janus

Slumped at a row of desks, I study Jo across the bank of screens. Hing Ko is leaning forward and frowning at the workstation in front of them.

“I could write a script to examine this,” Jo murmurs.

Hing Ko points at the monitor and narrows his eyes, saying something in a low voice I don’t quite catch. Jo’s cheeks are pink, her lips are still slightly swollen, and I pull my gaze back to my screen reluctantly, code swimming before my eyes. Everything I’m doing today is probably a total crapshoot. I scroll through more system data, trying to pretend I’m working on something concrete.

Despite the tiredness and the underlying crevasse of the hack that could derail us at any moment, a bubbly feeling is fizzing and popping inside me, a warmth that’s seeping deep into my bones. I can’t stop watching her. My God, the way she asks for what she wants, tells me what she likes … she’sdemanding. And what happened to her at school? How is she still okay? How is she still on her feet and fighting? She’s like a rod of iron. But … I get it. I understand her reluctance now, and I’m on fire with how much I want to show her what this can be, to keep her safe.

The cool air of the fiftieth floor of the Waiwei building washes over me, and the bank of windows is dark behind Jo, the city spread out like an array of shiny coins sparkling across the harbor. There was a point a couple of years ago when the value of Janus Industries became more visible, and everyone I met seemed to want something from me. My response was to draw back, to deal in superficialities. Although my experience is nowhere near as bad as hers, Jo’s not the only one who’s withdrawn into themselves. My dating life is like some perfect echo of how disconnected I’ve become. I’ve used women for publicity, accompanying someone to an event, never having to properly engage. The thought is sour in my mouth; how easily have I fallen into this? To be fair, they benefit from the arrangement, too, but still. How exposed Jo and I were in bed with each other last night and this morning—I haven’t talked to someone like that in a long time. The company has been eating away at me, and I know that—I’m tired and busy—but I don’t think I’d fully grasped the long slow slide into myself until now. And my history isn’t like this; my parents didn’t bring me up to skim superficially through life. They’ve been on my back about keeping in contact with people and particularly my brother. Bryn and I were close when we were younger, but even when my mom and dad were here, I didn’t meet up with him. Right enough, we’re both insanely busy and caught up in our own lives—he’s dedicated to his school and the deprived kids he works with—but I could reach out. I pick up my phone and squint at the time; 6.35 p.m. local time. Pretty early for the East Coast, but, knowing Bryn like I do, he might be up. I fire off a text, and I snort when one comes back almost immediately.

“Who are you and what have you done with my brother?”

I grin. We’re so not used to complimenting each other. “You running?” I type back.

“*Yes*.” And I can almost hear his impatient sigh. A reluctant laugh huffs out of me.

“I’m in Hong Kong trying to fix problems.”

“Hahaha, it’s goddamn freezing here.”

“Catch up when I’m back?”

“Definitely. You need your arrogant ass kicking.”

Bryn loves ribbing me about the business and what he calls my “New York lifestyle.”

When I raise my head again, Jo is looking at me, and I wink at her. She rolls her eyes and goes back to the computer in front of her.

“Are you doing anything useful over there, Mr. Phillips, or just laughing at cat videos on your phone?”

I tap the screen. “My brother,” I say, putting it down and frowning at the monitor in front of me. I need her calm head to help me focus.

“Come here and help me sort out what the fuck I’m looking at,” I grumble. “I need some actual brains on this job; mine are mush.”

This gets me a grin, and she wheels her chair toward me, pushing on the ground with her heels. She’s all sorts of cute with her hot glasses and the disarray of red curls I washed in the shower this morning after round two, or was it three? She complained bitterly it would go wild and curly, and, fuck me, it has.

“I love your hair like this. I love knowing I made it look like this,” I murmur under my breath as my gaze roams over her head, inhaling clean woman and citrus perfume: I’m giddy.

“You’re a total caveman,” she grouches quietly.

I have to restrain myself from burying my face in her neck and sinking my teeth into her; I can’t remember ever feeling this possessive about anyone. She peers at my monitor, and her steady thinking face returns as she tries to work out what I’m looking at.

“What have you done so far?” she asks, her gaze swinging to mine, calm and expectant.

A laugh huffs out of me. “Not one single thing—for some reason I’m massively distracted.”

Her lips curve up into a warm ripple of a smile. “Men. A couple of rounds of hot sex, and they’re mush. No wonder the best spies and assassins were women.” Her gaze flicks to Hing Ko, before drifting back to the screen in front of us.

She’s a tiger underneath that soft curly exterior. Apart from the first day in the elevator, her wicked streak isn’t often in evidence. She’s so calm in work, so rational and professional, but I like the Jo with the runaway mouth that I think she must keep on a tight leash. I lean in, smiling.

“Are you all set for another round?” I murmur. “Ready to have my mouth all over you?”

She observes me steadily through her glasses, and her gaze is so close and so earnest on mine. I can see the freckles on her nose and the dark flecks in her eyes, speckled like her skin, and she gives me a half smile as her eyes track to my lips and back again.

“You’re a flake, Janus Phillips, be honest with me now; you didn’t build this company, did you? It can’t possibly be you because you clearly spend all your time trying to distract people in the office.”

I smirk back at her, dropping my voice. “My mouth. All. Over. You.” And damn me if she doesn’t shift a bit in her seat. I’m getting to her.

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