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I swallowed hard as I took him in. The sixteen-year-old in me still fangirled every time I saw Damian up close, especially now that he’d lost the glasses he’d always worn during high school. Dark stubble lined his jawline and above his lip—elegant scruff. His big, plump lips were the stuff of fantasies; mine, specifically. I had wondered no fewer than eighteen thousand times what it might feel like to touch those lips with my own. He dragged his tongue across his bottom lip, as though he could hear my thoughts, which sent heat to my core like a lightning rod.
“Just saying hello to our old friend Jessa,” Axel said.
“She needs to get back to work,” Damian said curtly, then his gaze dropped to Zero. “Hey there, buddy.” He leaned forward to smooth his hand over Zero’s head.
Axel sent me a look that saidget a load of this guyand removed his arm. “Fine. But Jessa, if you need anything, especially a break from this guy”—he jerked his thumb in the direction of Damian—“you know where to find me. My office is right down the hall. And you’ll be meeting my girlfriend Cora soon too. I have a feeling you two are going to get along great.”
I smiled at him, basking in the warmth from his greeting. That’s what I had expected from the Fairchilds. It wasn’t at all what I had gotten from Damian.
But it was fine. He’d made the employer-employee boundary clear. No big deal.
Well, okay, maybe just a tiny deal.
Axel waved and headed away. Damian slipped into his office, the door clicking shut behind him, leaving only hisdeliciouscologne lingering in the air—something woodsy and refined andferalall at the same time—and Francis’s heavy stare.
“So how long have you known the Fairchilds?”
I swallowed. This felt like a trick question. So much for starting with a blank slate here. “Um…since…middle school? I guess?”
“Hm.” He surveyed some of the sheets on the desk again, his jaw flexing. “Wasn’t aware of that history.”
“They’re practically like brothers,” I said.
Francis fixed me with an inscrutable look. I couldn’t tell if this was a good or bad piece of information to share. “Just be aware that whatever you think you know about them from back home, it’s different here on Wall Street.”
I nodded, not entirely sure what he meant. “Yeah. That makes sense, I think.”
“Get settled in. I’ll keep you up to date.” He offered a brief smile and flitted away, the sheen of his dress pants snagging my attention in the bright light of the hallway.
I looked around at the quiet reception area outside Damian’s office. There weren’t too many people who came down this short, dead-end hallway, beyond Francis or the brothers. I liked that aspect of it—there wasn’t a ton of foot traffic. It could just be me and Damian, tucked into our own little corner.
I listened for some sign of life beyond Damian’s door. Everything was cool, calm, collected here. But more than that, it wasfancy.There were espresso machines in practically every office pod. The break room featured only the most expensive brand of bottled water, the kind I had very specifically never purchased becausewho pays that much for water?The carpets lining the hallway looked like they came from some sort of Fanciest Rugs ’R’ Us custom-order magazine, all silver-threaded and patterned.
This was ten leagues above the last job I’d had, the diner gig I’d quit Thursday evening after an excessive amount of apologizing to my former manager.
I couldn’t deny it. I wasthrilledto be here.
But a small part of me tugged at my metaphorical arm sayingbut wait…this isn’t what you came here to do.
I tried to push the thoughts away as I clicked through screens on my new company laptop. The keys were nearly silent as I typed out a quick email to Francis, acknowledging I’d gotten the Avoids addendum. My desk phone rang—I knew it was Damian because of the red light that signified which line the call came from.
“Damian Fairchild’s confidential secretary,” I cooed in my sugariest voice. “How may I help you?”
He snorted through the phone. “Are you always going to answer like that?” His voice sounded gritty this close to my ear, something caught between sex voice and just-woke-up. I clenched my thighs together. I could barely look at him without fangirling, andhearinghim was proving to be just as difficult.
“I’ll answer however you want me to,” I said, and then realized how suggestive that sounded. Heat crept into my cheeks.
He paused, and the vacuum that stretched between our words became deafening. “Hmm. I’ll think about that,” he finally said. “Did you see the email that just came through?”
I refreshed my inbox and a new email pinged. He walked me through something regarding his upcoming schedule. Once I’d figured it out, he said, “Great. Talk later.”
“Ahh, wait,” I blurted. It was Monday. Which meant rent was due. My only plan forward was to just artfully dodge my landlord until my first paycheck landed...whenever that was. “I forgot to ask. Uh…when is payday?”
“Mmm, next Friday, I think. Though you might not fall on that cycle. I can find out for sure.”
Anxiety spiked inside me. I couldn’t dodge paying rent for another two weeks. “Okay. All right. That’s uh…”
“What’s wrong?”
