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“I’m not asking, Natalie. I’m commanding.” I paused at the threshold. “If you don’t like the terms of your employment, I can always offer your position to someone equally incompetent.”
She pouted. “You never seem to care when Farrow talks back.”
That’s because she runs the show, and you’re merely an extra in it.
In lieu of a response, I shut the door in her face.
Before settling into my executive chair, I made a pit-stop at my never-ending Go game with Fae. She’d moved a stone last night, which meant that she’d returned home at some point.
The knowledge that she slept across the hall from me oddly satisfied me.
I plucked a stone from my bowl and set it on the board. I harbored two prisoners of hers. I’d win the game in the coming days, after all.
“Silly, Octi. At this rate, I’m going to conquer your entire kingdom.”
I fought a bitter smile, knowing, deep down, that I was the one being captured.
Like all gusts of hope, mine died a slow, cruel death.
I’dhopedfor another blowjob from Farrow before lunch.
Instead, I received numerous interruptions from Natalie, impeding my scheduled video conferences and business calls.
Then, Mom dropped by to complain about my lack of response, urging me to download a tracking app in case I ended up in a ditch somewhere.
Genuine tears leaked from her eyes, and I knew the latent anxiety from learning of the crash never actually left her.
Oliver came next with an absurd request to borrow my home for an orgy. I kicked him out, literally, but he only pivoted, asking me to do it again—harder.
Andstill, no sign of Octi.
I checked the surveillance cameras.
Hallways. Kitchens. Living areas.
Nowhere.
Stop with this obsession. Concentrate on your work.
Two hours in, that proved impossible. I tried to feed myself the excuse that I was checking in on an unruly employee as I rose from my seat and made my way to her room.
I knocked on her door, feeling like a certified idiot. It wasmyhouse. She was undermypayroll.
Why did I feel so out of control?
“Farrow. I know you’re in there.” No answer. I pressed my elbow to the door, my nostrils flaring. “Your car’s parked out front—whereIshould be parking, by the fucking way—and all my healthy snacks have been raided overnight.”
Finally, her unapologetic voice came from the other side of the wood. “Those cashew energy balls are the bomb. You need to buy more of them.”
She’d spoken with her signature sass, yet I picked up on somethingfragile. Brittle, even.
My hackles rose all the way to the sky.
“Octi?” I replayed the last forty-eight hours, sifting through my memories. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Shockingly, no. It’s not you.”
“Can I open the door?”
