Olly
I could barely muster the strength to nod to Keaton as I slumped behind my desk far too close to lunchtime. My morning meeting had taken more time and more energy than it should have.
And I was no closer to figuring out who had tried to screw us over.
Nor who ‘us’ was. Was this targeted at me personally? At Ace? At the Harvey Agency? At Ridley Angus?
There were too many avenues to consider. Too many people who wanted to see us fall. Too many journalists who would do anything for a thrilling story.
Ridley’s age had been in question lately. He was one of the longest-serving players out there right now. Could this be the work of someone trying to push him to go now? But who would they be serving? What would they get out of it?
I fired up my laptop and opened my emails. There were so many waiting for me that I wanted to close it and sleep. I powered through instead. There was a query I could answer quickly with my reference sheet. I went to grab it –
It wasn’t there.
I frowned.
I looked to the left. My pile of incoming paperwork had been straightened.
I looked to the right. The circular coffee stain the cleaners had missed for three nights in a row was gone. Three paperclips I’d taken off contracts yesterday had been returned to their correct jar. A couple of loose notes I’d had on the desk were also missing.
The cleaners. The fucking cleaners. They must have had someone new start last night.
I looked down at the wastepaper basket beside me and swore out loud. It was still full of the packaging from last night’s takeout. They had swept my desk and not emptied the trash? What kind of unprofessional outfit was this?
“For fuck’s sake!” I exclaimed. “Who was the cleaner on duty last night?”
Keaton looked up at me with a startled expression. I kept forgetting how new he was at this. He probably didn’t even know how to look it up. “Um, sir?”
“You can find the roster on the company server,” I started. It was irritating to have to explain it but at least I would only need to do this for him once.
“No,” Keaton said. I raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t like him to cut me off. He flushed red at my expression. “Um, what I mean is – the cleaners didn’t come in last night because we were all still here. They’ll come by tonight, unless you want me to call and ask them to send someone now?”
I frowned at him. He was right. I hadn’t remembered at first. But the cleaners usually came around in the late evening when I was still here with him and Ace.
“Then who the hell tidied my desk?” I exclaimed and kicked the wastepaper basket for emphasis. It spun slightly and drifted a few inches across the polished floor.
“Um.” Keaton looked like he wanted that floor to swallow him up. “I did?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You?”
“You told me to just get on with stuff this morning,” he said.
His voice was high and fast. Nervous. “You didn’t leave any instructions, so I thought I’d look around for something to do after I’d dealt with your incoming meeting requests and sorted your mail.
I noticed you like things to be kept tidy, so I took away the empty coffee cups from yesterday, wiped down your desk, and tidied your papers.
And I cleaned up the coffee table and the coffee machine, too, and I… ” He trailed off.
It must have been the look on my face that made him stop.
I felt my jaw go hard. My muscles tighten. My whole being focused into one glaring gaze.
“You touched things on my desk.”
Keaton swallowed hard.
I shot to my feet with a suddenness that made him flinch. “Don’t you dare touch my paperwork again,” I fumed. I slammed my hand on the desk for emphasis. He flinched again.
I found myself faltering.
Why would he flinch like that? It was more than just surprise. He looked like he wanted to cry. To duck.
Was he that incapable of taking criticism?
The look on his face made me want to stop. But the next thought that came to my head was what would have happened if I’d had an important call. If someone had put me on the spot for the figures. The cheat sheet wasn’t at my side. I would have been stuck. Lost. Floundering.
I had built a reputation for myself. The unflappable Oliver Harvey. Make one mistake without my cheat sheet and all of that went away. The story would spread through my staff. My clients. My rivals.
That was how reputations were destroyed.
I had spent far too much of my life focusing on this business to the exclusion of everything else for it to go down in flames with a stupid mistake like this.
“I’m sorry, sir,” he said. His voice was miserable and small. Like a child.
“For God’s sake!” I shouted. Panic flashed through me. Couldn’t he see what he was doing to me? The way he affected me when he looked like that? Sounded like that? Was he trying to put me off my game? “Go. Get me a coffee.”
He stood hesitantly. He looked across the room at the coffee machine like it was a tiger about to pounce on him.
“No!” I exploded. “Not there. Go out. I need you out of my sight. Get me a coffee from the furthest possible café and don’t fucking rush back.”
Keaton gave me one last stricken look and then rushed out of the office. The doors banged shut behind him.
He’d forgotten to take his coat.
I slumped into my chair and groaned. I covered my face with my hands. I shouldn’t have shouted at him. I knew that immediately. It was a bad thing to do. I’d upset him even further. And I had made him go before he actually told me where the cheat sheet was.
I opened the top drawer of my desk and there it was. There was everything that had been removed from my desk. Neatly placed and straightened at the edges.
The paperwork had been alphabetized.
I groaned out loud.
I shouldn’t have yelled at him. He was just trying to be good at his job.
I was also very aware that I hadn’t given him much in the way of guidance.
The truth of it was that none of my secretaries lasted very long.
I didn’t see the point in trying to teach them everything when they would be out of the door within the month.
And it wasn’t his fault that I had panicked.
He didn’t know how important the cheat sheet was to me. How it covered my one vulnerability.
A huge vulnerability that I didn’t want anyone to know about – least of all the secretary who would be gone within the month.
The thought of him leaving so soon made my heart clench painfully in my chest. But it would happen. It always happened. Either that or he would give me a reason to fire him. Now that I had yelled at him he was probably out there writing up his resignation letter already.
I covered my eyes with my hands for a moment. I tried to think. To calm myself. To get back on track.
My thoughts kept coming back time and time again to one thing.
The way he had flinched when I stood up. When I hit the table. The way he had run out of the door like he was in danger.
Had someone hit him before?
An ex?
Jordan. That was what he had called him. The ex who was stuck in the closet but wouldn’t leave him alone.
I shouldn’t.
But I did.
I grabbed my phone and scrolled through social media until I found Keaton’s profile. Checked his friends and tags until – there. Jordan Muriel. An old photo of the two of them together. Jordan’s arm around Keaton’s neck in a group setting. They could easily have just been friends.
But they weren’t. I could tell. Something in the way that Keaton flushed pink in his cheeks. Pleased to be near Jordan. To be touched by him.
The primal jealousy rising up through my brain almost stole my breath.
Jordan. Did he look like the hitting type? I couldn’t tell. He looked like an asshole. Anyone who treated Keaton like that had to be one.
Muriel had dark hair. Long enough to flow in short waves. Not as long as Ace’s. Definitely longer and darker than mine. He was tall but not particularly muscular. Was that what Keaton liked?
I didn’t need to catch my own reflection in the phone screen to know that I looked different.
I liked to spend every moment in my home gym when I wasn’t here at the office.
I had kept up the same physique I’d had when I was playing.
Even though I didn’t need it anymore. It was a point of pride.
Honed muscles like steel helped me keep my brain sharp as well.
Was I even anything like Keaton’s type at all?
I closed my eyes. Shut off my phone screen. This was stupid. I was his boss. I had yelled at him. I wasn’t even out publicly and I already knew he would hate that. There were a hundred reasons why we would never work.
But I thought about Jordan Muriel hurting Keaton and I squeezed my phone so hard that I felt something crunch inside my hand.