Page 31 of At His Beck & Call

I’ve been working out every other day for close to ten years. I really don’t have the money to spend on the gym membership but, sometimes, I feel like it’s the only thing keeping me sane.

I found an amazing gym near Henry’s school with a small play area, and Gabriella, the woman who runs it, always makes time for Henry when we go.

There are a few other moms who leave their kids there to play, but he’s getting kind of old for it now. I put his headphones over his ears, hand him his iPad, and kiss him on the head before heading to the treadmill.

He has heavy shadows under his eyes this morning, even though he said he slept well last night. If there was a way I could reach into his body and just rip out whatever is wrong with him, I would. No child of six should have to go through this.

I get on the treadmill, set my usual warm-up speed, and start pounding through the miles, watching the news on the screensahead of me. It’s a small gym, but very busy, and I’m lucky to get the machine before they’re all taken.

I run three miles and hit the weights, but by the time I’ve done a few sets, I’m struggling to focus. My mind is already focusing on the day ahead and what Oliver might expect from me.

Yesterday was mind-blowing in more ways than one. I had never experienced anything like that before. Not just thepleasurebut the care he took during the act. He was totally focused on me, not thinking about himself at all.

I find myself anticipating the day at the office with a lot more enthusiasm than I expected. He’s so damn intense, but I can’t help but be intrigued by him.

Something about the way he carries himself and his thoughtful questions is messing with my head. Whenever I think about him, it makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

I really want to give him the same pleasure he gave me. More than I thought I would. I’ll probably be terrible at it, though, and what if he fires me right afterward? I can’t imagine sucking his dick; it must be as thick as my wrist if the rest of his body is anything to go by.

Placing the dumbbells back on the rack, I check the time. My workout was shorter than usual, but that’s okay, I have something more important to do before I start my day.

After a very quick shower, I get dressed in my new work clothes and go and pick up Henry. He gives me his usual adorable smile as he looks up, jumping off his chair and running over to me, his headphones around his neck.

“Have you said thanks to Gabriella?” I ask and he turns and does a silly little bow making Gabriella laugh.

“Nice suit,” she says, wandering over. “New job?”

“Second day.”

“Dios Mio, how is it?” she asks.

“Great!” Henry exclaims from below us. “I got ice cream.”

“I’m spoiling him,” I say, about to make a comment on his impending operation, but stop myself. Gabriella doesn’t need to know about that. The fewer people who are aware that Henry’s sick, the better. I don’t want it somehow getting back to James.

“You want pancakes for breakfast?” I ask, completely ignoring my intentions to steer clear of sugar. I’ll start tomorrow…

Henry’s eyes light up. “Before school?”he asks excitedly.

“Just this once,” I say, laughing at Gabriella as she ruffles his hair, and we head out. There’s a great little diner a few doors down, and this time I can buy him anything he wants without worrying about the money.

And that feelsreallygood.

Chapter 11

Lissa

“So, this is the standard matter view, with the name, lawyer, and partner assigned to it, and the description of the case,” Adelaide says as she sits beside me at my desk, showing me the ins and outs of the software.

Thankfully, it’s a lot less complicated than the dental practice’s system and far more intuitive. Even after ten minutes of her showing it to me, it’s beginning to jog my memory about my role as a PA many years ago. I’m confident I can get the hang of it pretty quickly.

We scroll through the different screens as she explains the hierarchy of the team that works with Oliver. He has fifteen lawyers under him, including four senior lawyers, all of whom work on this floor.

“Is there a reason why this floor isn’t open-plan like the others?” I ask as she glances at me with a little smile.

“That’s Mr. Heath’s preference. He likes to give people space to work without interruption. He’s always hated open-plan spaces and insisted on keeping the original design of this floor when they bought this building. They fought him on it, but he wouldn’t budge, and at the time, he was bringing in a lot of money for the firm.”

“Is he not anymore?”