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“Mr. Heron, I read the dress code three times this morning. I’m not infringing anything.”
There’s a loud snap as the pencil breaks like a twig in his hands.
“You’d better hurry up if you want to make your date. Just because we’re low on work doesn’t mean you’re here for nothing,” he grumbles.
I walk away with a saucy switch of my hips.
God, does it feel good to see Magus Heron jealous.
Predictably, he hides in his office most of the day, and I get caught up. The emails trickled in slowly, luckily. At four o’clock, I order a grilled chicken wrap with pesto and an heirloom grain salad from his favorite deli and go knock on his office door.
“Yes?” he calls.
I walk in. “You’re right. With no one here, it’s easy to get work done. I’m caught up from vacation and heading out. I ordered your dinner. It should be here at six thirty as usual. See you Monday.”
He glances at the clock and then me. “You’re really leaving early?”
“Yes,” I say. “You gave me a week off, remember? Have a good night.”
I’m almost out the door when he calls after me again.
“Where’s this boy taking you?” Mag growls, not a hint of real interest in his voice.
Hello, Mr. Hyde.
His chest heaves, his nostrils flare, and I can hear him breathing.
Nice to know he remembered my plans.
“I’m not sure yet. We’re figuring that out soon,” I lie. “Goodbye, Mr. Heron. Have a peaceful, productive evening.”
His face hardens like stone, and I can feel the brimstone shooting out of his eyes on my back, fiery as smelted metal.
I grab my coat and leave, humming to myself.14Wolf Boy (Magnus)Damn Sabrina Bristol and that sizzling red devil’s dress.
This is my fault. I shouldn’t have avoided her after kissing her. Making out with her.
No matter how many times I tell myself, it wasn’t just some random kiss.
I haven’t been able to pry it out of my fucking skull for a month. Every night since Phoenix, I’ve clenched my teeth and wrapped my fist around my cock, feverishly wishing it was her.
And now she’s out with someone else.
Some kid her own age, probably, who won’t know what to do with her.
Damn it straight to hell.
Ruby comes strolling in through my office door, interrupting me mid-brood.
“What are you doing here?” I snap, then sigh, running a hand over my face. “Sorry. Holiday stress.”
She turns her face up and gives me a cutting look. “Holidays. Really?”
I don’t answer.
“Did you at least see my email about the new marketing hire for our PPC campaigns? I don’t think it’s going to work out. He’s failed the blueprint courses three times and he’s showing up late. I’ve documented enough to get rid of him now, if you’d like. Since the manager, Trudeau, isn’t in this week, I thought I’d bring it straight to you.”
I have no idea what she’s even talking about.
Not cool. It’s my job to know what’s going on.
“Whatever you think, Ruby. Throw him out the door, give him more time, put him on probation...or wait for Trudeau.”
“Jesus.” She crosses the room and sits in front of my desk. “What’s wrong, Mag? You’ve been distracted for weeks.”
“Nothing,” I say coldly. Maybe if I can sell her, we’ll both believe it.
“You haven’t read any of my emails today, have you?”
She’s known me for so long, lying to her is pointless.
I meet her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’ve been locked away planning our January initiatives.”
She shrugs. “Don’t apologize to me. It’s your company paying dead weight, which I know you hate. It’s not like you to overlook things. What’s eating you?”
I walk over to my wall of windowpanes and look out at the sprawling Chicago skyline. Skyscrapers stab above a freezing fog drifting off the icy lake, like Jack Frost blowing his bitterest winter kiss through the streets.
“You already know. This time of year, with my family shit...” I swallow hard for effect, hoping she’ll buy it.
She follows me across the room and stops two steps behind me.
“You must mean your other family, I assume. What’s new with them? I know you don’t talk to Baxter.”
I say nothing.
This was a bad cover story. Now that I’m thinking about it, a depressing weight punches me in the gut.
“Pardon my language, Mag, but why don’t you grow a pair and talk to them?” Ruby asks sharply.
I turn, wondering what’s gotten into her.
No one ever gives me advice on this, not even Ruby Hunting.
“Excuse me?” I growl, my brow furrowed.
“Stop with the anonymous rich uncle stuff, I mean. You’ve been taking care of that kid for years. Just talk to them,” Ruby says, her face tightening before it relaxes. “Sorry. I didn’t mean for that to come out so harsh.”
“You know better than anyone why I’ve sworn to stay the hell out of their lives and try to make things right the only way I can. Jordan Quail shouldn’t carry around Baxter’s sins. It’s bad enough for me,” I snarl, my jaw clenching like a vise.
