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1
WADE LEE SAWYER
“This isn’tpart of my job duties,” I muttered, then redoubled my efforts using a toothbrush to scrub the black tile that made up the bathroom floor.
Every bit of this had been designed to be awful for me. I swear, this was a toothbrush for mice because it had the smallest head I’d ever seen, and dinosaurs danced down the wide silicone handle. The acidic stench of piss was heavy in the air, and I glared up at the black urinals anchored to the wall above me. I dipped the toothbrush into a small bucket of soapy water, but even the piney scent couldn’t totally kill the smell from at least a week of bad aims. The cynical part of my brain decided maybe Albion Guthrie had come in here and pissed on the floor on purpose, but I had no proof to back that up.
He did hate me, though, along with everyone else. It was possible.
There was a dark chuckle behind me that sent a shiver up my spine, and a wave of humiliation washed through me. I glanced over my shoulder at Albion. He was perched cross-legged with his laptop on the black stone counter next to the silver sinks—which might’ve been amusing under other circumstances, since he was so tall and wearing a sharp gray suit.
Presently, it definitely wasn’t anything except annoying.
I’d cleaned that area first, back when I’d desperately hoped he wouldn’t make me scrub yet another floor today. This bathroom was nice because clients used it, and everything was fancier than the others in the building, but I’d been doing this all morning. It was safe to say that all bathrooms smelled the same.
I wrinkled my nose.
“Oh, this is within your job duties. Anything I tell you to do is your job while that shiny new contract is in play.” Albion grinned, which made his stern face ridiculously devastating. He was all harsh angles softened by dark stubble, bold eyebrows, and curvy pink lips.
My face burned as I sat up on my knees and slapped down the toothbrush. I wanted to shout at him and tell him to go fuck himself. Tell himno,this isn’t my job,because goddamn it,I’m an architect, but none of those words came out of my mouth. I never could make myself say what I was thinking, which was half the reason I was in this awful mess.
“Aw, are your wittle feewings riled up? Big feelings, buddy!” Albion snorted and shook his head, and then he chuckled like an asshole and glanced back down at the laptop he was typing away on, not even stopping while he picked on me. The lights over the sink glittered in his dark hair. “Your job is whatever the fuck I say your job is until I trust you, which I don’t see happening, Sport. If you wanted things to be different, you should’ve reported Xadrian’s bullshit to the boss. Especially the theft.” He winked at me and fired off a finger gun in my direction.
Heat prickled my skin and I curled forward.
Xadrian.
My ex.
The second he’d left Mr. Guidry’s employment and I hadn’t followed right behind him like an obedient puppy, he’d cut me out of his life. Thankfully, I’d never given up my apartment, and also, thank God, no one had realized we’d been dating.
He’d been too ashamed of being with me to tell anyone—it didn’t fit his image.
He’d told me over and over again that if he did come out, it sure as hell wouldn’t be for someone like me. Not smart enough or attractive enough or rich enough, I guess. He’d never specified which of my faults were the worst, but every time he’d said I wasn’t worth the effort, the words had cut deep.
Scowling, I dipped the toothbrush in the bucket, then continued to scrub hard at the floor tiles. This really wasn’t much different than my life had been with Xadrian in it. Doing all the work, getting none of the credit, and taking on all the trouble for things I hadn’t done. Sighing, I rolled my burning shoulders, trying to work out the pain in my spine.
“I have degrees,” I muttered, the closest I would get to outright saying that this was a total waste of my energy.
“I don’t care.” Albion hummed. “I don’t trust you to talk to clients or do any work, and if I have to go over every detail of what you do, then I might as well do it myself. This is glorified babysitting,” he said, slapping his hand on the counter. “We’re both here because Mr. Guidry is too good of a guy to fire you. You’re surviving on his grace. I would’ve kicked you to the curb.”
I glared at Albion again, but he was ignoring me to study the computer screen, and somehow that was worse.
To be doing exactly what I’d been told,howI was told, and be totally ignored put a hot flame of shame in my gut.
But that wasn’t really any different than usual, either.
And fuck, part of me kind of liked it in a messed-up way. It was what I deserved, and I was getting all the humiliation that I’d earned.
I had no idea how much time had passed, but I was away from the urinals and scrubbing the middle of the floor when Albion sighed. My muscles stiffened as he carefully unfurled his long legs and stood. He towered over me like a god, and I hated the part of myself that didn’t mind the way he lorded his height over me—maybe even secretly loved it.
“It’s lunchtime,” he said, closing his laptop and tucking it under his left arm. He glared down his nose.
“Okay.”
“Up,” he said, snapping at me like a dog. “Go wash your hands. Don’t be hem hawing around.” His eyebrows danced upward as he surveyed the clean parts of the floor. He didn’t whisper a word of praise about how much I’d gotten done, but I’d worked as fast as I could, not letting myself be lazy. That terrible—yet somehow pleasant—feeling coiled in my gut, making my eyes hot. I wanted to cry.
I really did need him to say something about my work.
