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I answer him in a calm, not-freaked-out, totally-got-my-shit-together voice. “I’ll be there soon.”
“Drop all of this and come, dude. He’ll be there in seconds, and if you’re not—”
I give the toner another tug. Nothing. “Just go, Elijah.” My tone is sweet and patient. “I’m making these copies for him.”
“Alright, bro!” And he’s gone.
I peer into the machine to see if there’s some kind of latch or something. Nothing. I clench my teeth one last time and pull hard, then harder, then even harder.
And it finally comes free—along with a thick cloud of inky, black toner all over me.
With the burden of a clock counting down, I ignore the mess and shove the new toner in its place, then slap the machine closed and let it finish its job. Swiping the six copies and the original from the machine, I hurry off in the direction of the long table toward the backs of all my fellow interns. Rebekah’s nasally voice is introducing us one by one to Mr. Gage, whose squared shoulders in a tight black blazer are all I see through the crowd.
“And where is he?” comes Rebekah’s voice. “He has the copies of the programs.”
“Here, ma’am!” I call out, slipping through the crowd. “I have them right—!”
My foot catches the edge of the table leg just as I come out from between two blonds. My tripped-up footing turns into something of a sad, awkward tap dance as I, for one glorious second, truly believe I can save myself from falling.
The maneuver swiftly becomes an Olympic dive into the swimming pool of grey-white tile right in front of everyone.
The six copies fly into the air like unfolded paper pigeons.
When I open my eyes, I’m staring at the shiny dress shoes of Mr. Gage, who looms over me.
“S-Sorry. I’m sorry.” I climb to my feet and brush myself off, only to discover that the little “cloud of toner” at the copier was more like a detonation of darkness all down the front of my shirt and slate pants. I look like I wrestled with an octopus and lost.
“That was quite an entrance,” states Mr. Gage. “And you are?”
I look up, prepared to introduce myself.
Then I freeze.
His beautiful eyes meet mine, then turn to stone as recognition dawns in them.
10
Benjamin starts to sweat.
“This is Trevor,” Rebekah announces, introducing the pretty boy standing terrified in front of me, the pretty boy with the giant explosion of copier toner all down his front.
The one I took home Friday night.
The one I haven’t stopped thinking about all weekend.
The one who called me a rich, cocky prick, then left me high and dry with a boner in my pants.
“Trevor,” I state simply, keeping my face absolutely untelling and blank.
Impressively, he takes just one solid second to regain his composure before extending his own hand. “The p-pleasure is mine, Mr. Gage,” he gets out, eye contact never breaking.
I accept his handshake firmly. Our hands linger a second too long before finally letting go.
“And that is all of them,” explains Rebekah. “Now what I’ve had them prepare for you—”
She goes on to explain a bunch of things, but all I do is watch as Trevor reluctantly bends over to collect the six copies of the program he just made. Those tapered pants are doing so much for his ass right now, it’s taking everything in me not to grab him and pull his tight, sexy body against my hardening crotch.
I want to punish him for being such a cock tease—working a man up all night, then ditching him. I want to punish him right now.
Oblivious, Trevor rises off the floor with the six copies—and then doesn’t seem to know what to do with them. He moves to hand them to Rebekah, changes his mind, and takes a step toward me. Then, with his eyes clamping shut and snapping back open, he finally extends the copies to Rebekah—who takes them without so much as a second of interruption in her endless self-important rambling. Trevor slowly backs into the crowd of interns with a sheen of sweat over his forehead, then stands there with his arms folded and his head hanging, staring at the floor and wide-eyed.
Well, this summer just became a whole lot more interesting.
“I am going to my office now,” I declare, cutting off Rebekah midsentence, “as I have a lot to catch up on. Rebekah, call a team together in the conference room. I’ll be there in five.”
“Yes, sir.” Rebekah’s smile is flat as she gathers her folders and nods at the interns. “Dismissed back to your duties.”
Trevor looks up from his daze and returns to his duties at the table without so much as a glance my way. The poor kid looks like he’s shitting bricks. I almost feel sorry for him.
Almost.
When I reach my office, I shut the door behind me and lean against it. The silence and darkness of the office offers me no peace of mind.
