“But why his present?” he asks.
“Why not his present?”
He rakes his hair, messing it up. He looks gorgeous with his mane neat, but scorching when it’s slightly messy, as though he’s just rolled out of bed.
Don’t think about bed.
“Look, Wyatt, it’s a fair deal. After all, the wager between Dane and Salazar is…well, a deal involving the two of them, and I don’t have to do anything to honor it. And in case you aren’t aware, I’m a damn good assistant.”
He thinks for a moment, then nods. “Okay. Fine. But I don’t want you setting me up with some weird people off dating apps. And no gold diggers.”
“Don’t worry.” I smile, satisfied that the deal is done, at least orally. “I’ll have a contract drawn up and sent to you for signing.”
“You don’t trust me?”
Is that a hint of hurt I’m sensing? Couldn’t be; in order to be hurt, you have to have a heart. I increase the wattage of my smile. “Things are just clearer that way. No false expectations. Oh, and I don’t do overtime.”
Chapter Sixteen
Wyatt
I roll my shoulders as we wrap up the day’s final meeting. It wasn’t too bad, just long, with a bunch of interdepartmental issues. The company’s trying to prioritize app features and security protocols. Not everyone wants to share their pictures with the world on social media, especially when it comes to photos of their children.
It’s a quarter till five, which means I have a few minutes to get the final items off the day’s agenda before I head home. But as I reach my office, I realize Melanie’s not at her desk.
Huh. All right, well… Guess I’ll ask her to bring me up to speed on whatever requires my immediate attention when she’s back from her break—because those seem to pop up regularly, and always right before I’m about to head home. I pick up my phone, which I forgot on my desk, and check for messages and texts.
–Unknown: Did you sign the contract yet?
What contract? I check the time stamp; the text came while I was in the meeting. But there doesn’t seem to be anything new on my desk. Did Melanie miss it? It wouldn’t surprise me. She seems to miss everything but Macy’s sales.
Just as I’m about to put the phone back on the desk and open my laptop, there’s another ping.
–Unknown: I’m not joking around. No contract, no date.
Okay, this must be Kim. How did she get my number…? Probably Dane or Salazar. Then I remember her criticism of Melanie—that she sucks at guarding my office. So maybe she didn’t guard my phone number either.
–Me: Did you actually send the contract? Or are you just complaining?
–Kim: Sent it before lunch.
She attaches a picture of the signed receipt. Somebody in the mail room got it, and it should’ve made it to my desk long before now. Robert, who runs the mail r
oom, is nothing if not efficient and quick.
–Kim: So. Did you sign the contract? I’m not going to start until you do.
Rolling my eyes, I start to tell her I never got it, but then realize maybe I should check with Melanie first in case she forgot to bring it over. I look out through the frosted glass wall. No shadows moving around on the other side.
How long is her break, anyway?
I check my desk again to see if she left Kim’s document during my meeting, but the usual stack of stuff is undisturbed. Then I see a sticky note in front of my laptop.
Came in early so I’m leaving now. Have a fantastic weekend!
–M
I stare at the yellow paper. As the meaning registers, sheer irritation and disbelief pulse through me. What the fuck? She never stays late when she arrives late, which is almost every day. Fuming, I check my email. Nothing…which means she also didn’t finish the memo I asked her to draft for Monday’s meeting.