Chapter 21
“Okay, so tell me one more time, you did what, exactly?” Junie asked, ducking through the side door as Connor held it open for her. They’d arrived at the same time that Monday morning, the first time seeing each other since Connor had collapsed in her office only a few days ago.
Hard to believe it really only had been a few days.
“Like I said,” Connor began with a patient smile, “I walked into his office with about four months of documentation and–”
“Basically told him to suck your dick, right?” She cut in, while Connor sucked in his cheek.
“Junie.”
“I’m just saying what Benji told me!” Came her innocent protest while he rolled his eyes.
“I just told him that he was going to drop his accusations against Nate and let him come back to work.”
“Or what, exactly?”
“Or my documentation could end up in the wrong hands. That’s all I said.”
It wasn’t the complete truth–but Connor couldn’t remember exactly what had happened. He’d been riding the high off some combination of adrenaline and vindication, staring right into the eyes of a bear and challenging him for dominance.
“So you threatened him,” Junie surmised, letting out a low whistle. “You’ve got balls. I’m kinda proud.”
“Only kinda?” Connor teased. They reached the elevator and Junie bumped the shiny silver button with her elbow, hiking her purse up higher on her shoulder.
“Hey, I’m in your corner, but you’ve got me feeling so mixed here. Proud that you bagged a looker like Santos–”
Connor gently shushed her, but she kept going as the elevator doors slid open and they stepped inside.
“Disappointed in your choices, undoubtedly,” she added, shaking her head. “And beyond proud that you fucked the boss and his son, but I can’t believe you fucked the boss’s son and you didn’t tell me.”
“I’m sorry, that I didn’t tell you,” Connor tried to cut in as he pressed the buttons for their floors, but Junie wasn’t having it.
“And clearly I don’t get to hate Santos because he didn’t screw you, but I mean, didn’t he?”
And that got a coy grin of his own out of Connor.
“He didn’t,” he agreed, then tilted his head at Junie, lips twitching. “But he also did.”
Junie immediately clocked where he was going and made a face.
“Okay, that’s gross, Connor.”
Fine, he’d earned that.
As the floors on the LED screen began to count up, Junie’s expression turned thoughtful.
“I don’t know if that’s going to end up saving him, if Berkshire wants him out. It’s like Elle. He’s constantly trying to get her for noncompliance or whatever little grievance he’s imagined up. Nate should watch his back. And so should you.”
She pulled Connor into a tight hug just as the elevator stopped at her floor, pressing a kiss to his cheek and saying, “I’m just so glad you’re back,” before stepping out, the heels of her pumps clicking against the linoleum as she made her way down to Thornton’s office.
But the warmth did not leave with Junie, as it so often did.
The doors slid shut as the elevator began to ascend just one more floor. Connor used it as an opportunity to straighten his tie, smoothing a hand through his hair.
Maybe she was right.
But that wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for Connor, or Alarie.
“Keep your head on a swivel, and watch your back. You’re cute, so they’re gonna eat you up like a little field mouse on the first day of spring.”
Junie had told him that on his very first day. It had only been her second week, but already she’d learned to fall in line or be left behind.
And Connor had adapted. He learned what it took to survive here.
He’d survive this, too.
The both of them, him and Nate.
Nate’s desk was almost exactly as he’d left it on Friday, with one small addition–a new nameplate sitting on his desk.
This one was silver framed, not gold like Connor had requested. That prompted an immediate email to Supplies once he’d opened his laptop, although Connor doubted anyone would get around to it until noon.
Plenty of work to be done in the meantime.
Making sure Nate was included on meeting invites with various departments that day, making sure his weekly Monday roundup with their key accounts continued without interruption.
And no one ever needed to know he’d been suspended.
His reputation would survive without this incident marring his record, Connor could only hope.
Nate came in about an hour later, slowly opening the door like he was a guest visiting his own office, peering his head in, glancing around.
“You planning on coming in?” Connor asked with a little smile, peering up at Nate over his laptop screen.
Nate broke into a grin, seeming to grow a little taller as he stepped inside, letting the door close behind him.
“I guess I was worried I might run in–holy shit.”
He’d seen it.
Of course he’d seen it.
He made a beeline to his desk, picking up the silver nametag, his fingers tracing over the letters. And he looked over at Connor, bewildered, amazed, stunned into silence all in one.
Connor only smiled a small, knowing smile.
“Guess I’d kind of let that fall by the wayside,” he said. “Your name isn’t Nathan.”
“It’s not.” Nate cradled the silver plate to his chest, looking back at Connor. “My–my mom, she named me after my ‘Buelo. Natanael. He just called me Nate. Said I deserved to be my own person.”
And he seemed to catch himself, setting it back down on his desk and turning to Connor.
“Okay. Monday morning. We’ve got the round up in an hour, right? And what else is going on?”
“Nothing out of the usual for today. Just keeping you visible to our investors,” Connor said, leaning back in his chair.
His laptop pinged with an incoming email, and he clicked it out of habit.
Alarie Inc. is grateful for the thirty years of service provided by Lou Simmons across multiple departments. Please join us in wishing Lou well as he begins his well-earned retirement…
Join us in welcoming Mel Kamangar as our incoming Public Relations director…
Connor closed the email with a sigh.
Maybe he could have managed to compete, maybe not.
Either way, that door was closed.
Nothing that could be done now.
Of course, Nate noticed–Nate noticed everything.
“What’s wrong?” He asked cautiously.
And Connor decided to answer–honestly, and without blame.
“They just announced Simmons’ exit. And his replacement.”
A shadow crossed Nate’s face.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You deserved it. You really did.”
“Don’t be,” Connor said, finding a way to a smile. “I got something better.”
Nate’s smile mirrored his, but only for a moment, his expression fading.
“Maybe. Maybe not. I mean. I don’t know what’s going to happen next. My dad could–I mean, Berkshire, he could–he could have me fired next week.”
“Maybe,” Connor shrugged. “But he hasn’t managed it yet. He let you come back.”
“He didn’t say I couldn’t come back,” Nate corrected, worried lines deepening between his brows. “And if he fires me then–then you could–”
“He wouldn’t dream of it,” Connor cut in with a shake of his head.
“Why? I mean–no offense, Connor–”
“Mutually assured destruction.”
“What?”
“He won’t fire me, or you. Because if he does, then that’s going to spell his demise, too. I made sure of that.”
“You didn’t,” Nate said, but he sounded so amazed. Connor just smiled, small, hidden behind his hand.
“I did.”
Nate’s expression was soft, unreadable. Trusting in Connor.
“Besides,” Connor added. “Even if he did. You know what I’d do?”
“What would you do?”
“I’d just take your old role, and then I’d hire you back as my assistant.”
And that got Nate a smile out of Nate. Wide, genuine.
“You’d probably get it, you know.”
“Maybe.” Connor
“You’ve got balls, you know that?”
Connor grinned.
“Yeah, I do.”
And Connor broke his rule, standing up from his desk just so he could press a quick kiss to Nate's lips, hitting him with a smirk.
“So back to today’s schedule…”