Chapter 3
Hugh
It was right after six thirty in the morning.
I was sipping my espresso and going through my emails before my day started.
I hadn’t had an assistant in weeks, and it was fucking killing me.
I didn’t have time to do this inane shit.
Most of the email was junk. And doing my own calendar was hell.
It wasn’t that I couldn’t do the small tasks; they were just weighing down my mental load. I had enough to do and worry about.
Usually, I’d sip my coffee, staring out at Washington, DC, in the early mornings. We weren’t close to the Capitol building, but you could see the Washington Monument in the distance.
What I wanted to do was think about that young man from Friday night, not work on fucking spam and junk mail.
He gave in to whatever the hell I asked for so easily and eagerly, like he was made to serve me.
He bent and yielded, and he’d been so damn responsive.
And I was desperate to wrap my fingers around all those fucking curls again.
Andrew had fallen into the role of the princess effortlessly, and he even let me put lipstick on him. But fuck, that ass was pure perfection, and the most fuckable one I’d ever seen. Watching him come and melt against me had been exquisite.
Sometimes the men we played with overacted with their groans, making the sex appear contrived.
With Andrew, you could tell he was really into it.
I almost hated leaving him there when we wrapped it up.
Part of me wanted to carry him home and hold him in my bed.
That right there had surprised me. I never wanted to have more than a one-nighter with men or women.
For me, sex was a game and a way to… I didn’t want to think too deeply about my constant need for it.
I adjusted in my chair as my cock attempted to harden, and brought my attention back to work, which wasn’t easy.
Thoughts of black curls, large black eyes, and sweet red lips kept pulling me back.
He was attractive in a unique, unconventional way.
He looked Southern European, possibly of Spanish or Italian descent.
His nose was large and Romanesque, but it fit his features.
Stop thinking about Andrew. If that was even his real name.
I finally forced him out of my head and focused.
Linden and I had some interviews today and tomorrow for a new PA. Hopefully, we’d find someone soon, so I didn’t have to deal with this small shit that had been overwhelming me. So far, we hadn’t had much luck.
Cross Corp had moved up in the world, and our new offices were stunning.
My father, Hanley Cross, had started it from the ground up.
Now, he was nearly a billionaire. Still, it helped that my grandfather left my father a tidy sum of five million when he died.
The money was invested directly into the business.
I jotted down the meeting time with Mr. Robinson for next Tuesday to discuss the new hospital construction project for PrimaryMed in Reston, Virginia.
It was a massive job for us, and it would bring Cross Corp millions of dollars.
It would be their fifth hospital, with two in Washington and two in Maryland.
They were finally branching out into Virginia.
I double-checked the date and time. I couldn’t afford to fuck up this job. Dad would strangle me. While I was going through my calendar for the following week, there was a knock on my door.
“Come in,” I said.
I looked up to see my father open the door and step into my office.
Dread instantly hit me because he only ever came here to bitch.
He took me in for a moment before closing the door behind him.
Dad wore one of those looks that said we needed a talk.
It was a face I’d seen often growing up whenever I fucked up, and it was a lot.
I was a handful as a teen and while in college.
His hair was now more gray than brown, which he kept cropped short. He wasn’t quite as tall as I was, and he was stockier and fit. At sixty-seven, he could give me a run for my money when it came to fitness.
“Morning,” I said.
Dad said nothing as he came to stand in front of my desk, then he dropped a manila folder in front of me with a plop.
“What’s this?”
“That is us being sued, Hugh.”
If he was bringing this to my attention, then it must either involve me or my department. I slid the folder closer to me and opened it. I winced at seeing Tamara Marshall’s name at the top of the legal document.
“Fuck,” I mumbled.
“Yes… fuck.”
God, it was too early in the morning for this.
“Please tell me why Tamara, one of your project managers, is suing us for five hundred and fifty thousand dollars for sexual harassment.”
That was my fault. I didn’t take her threats seriously when we broke up. She told me she would make me pay if I broke up with her. Her obsession was the main reason for dumping her, and a reminder that I didn’t enjoy relationships, as short as it was.
That conniving, fucking…
I sighed, rubbing my face, before taking another sip of coffee. My relationship with Tamara had been a secret. No one knew about us. I hadn’t even intended to date her, but it sort of happened at the Christmas party last year.
“Tamara and I were dating for a few months, and I definitely didn’t fucking sexually harass her, Dad. She’s lying. We started dating… it just happened. It wasn’t even that long. I broke up with her because she was being… problematic.”
Dad sat down, crossed his leg over his knee, and looked out the window thoughtfully. “Dammit, Hugh…” he breathed. “Problematic how?”
“She was getting more and more clingy, and she wanted me to buy everything for her, like a new car, take her to the nicest restaurant. Hell, after a few months, she was demanding that I move in with her. I tried to stop it before things spiraled out of control, but… When we broke up, she threatened to sue. That was several months ago. I didn’t take her seriously. ”
“Can you prove any of this?”
My elbows sat on my desk as I rested my face in my hands. Fuck me. “No. No one knew about us.” Linden knew, but I wasn’t about to drag his ass through the mud. He wouldn’t have anything to add anyway.
The news was not a good way to start my morning.
Dad stood and walked toward the windows, while I leaned back in my leather office chair, running through ideas on how to get out of this.
“This isn’t the first time you’ve been in trouble with one of your lovers, Hugh. I’ve been patient with your sexual… proclivities, but now it’s affected business.”
“This wasn’t… that. We were dating. Anyway, I know. You’re right. I’ll… handle this.”
He turned to face me with a deep frown on his face, making him appear older than he was. “No. The lawyers will handle this. Maybe they can put pressure on her to back off. I’ll share what you’ve told me with them. Perhaps they can use it to their advantage.”
“Give me a chance to talk to her.”
“No, that’s the last thing you need to be doing. You’ll only make the situation worse.”
“Dad…”
“I said no!” he boomed. My stomach and heart lurched.
My father stood back at my desk, rested his palms on the wood, and leaned forward.
“No more dating employees. I generally don’t have an issue with it between those on the lower rung, but you’re one of the top VPs in this company, and you’re my son.
I expect you to hold yourself to a higher standard.
Don’t make me change the company rules because you can’t keep it in your pants.
Maybe it’s time you finally settled down.
Between your sister, Linden, and you, there’s no sign of marriage and children. Your mother and I are tired of it.”
Despite being thirty-five years old, my father had reduced me to a seventeen-year-old.
He was always good at that. My face heated, and I clenched my jaw to keep from snapping back at him.
I’d spent my life trying to make him proud, including taking on a job I never wanted, but I’d managed to fuck things up constantly.
Years ago, my therapist told me I acted out for attention, among other things, especially when I was a kid.
Without another word, my father turned on his heel and stormed out of my office, closing the door behind him.
Instead of exhaling my tension, it built up into rage, and I swiped my arm across my desk, sending paper, pens, and other office supplies flying across the room.
Fuck Tamara.
And fuck my father.
What was the point of working your ass off if you couldn’t enjoy life? So what if I had fucking needs? And me marrying? Finding a wife and having kids? No thanks. Tamara was a good reminder of how uninterested I was in marriage.
It was going to be a long fucking day.
It was nine-thirty after I wrapped up my first interview of the morning.
She was now meeting with Linden, since she would potentially be working for both of us.
We should each have our own PAs, but my father wasn’t ready to pay that kind of money yet.
He believed that Linden and I should do most of the legwork ourselves and not rely too much on a PA.
When she left, I walked out of my office with my empty mug, needing more coffee before my next appointment with Atlas Stavros at ten.
As I walked past the reception area, I gave a brief smile in greeting to the man waiting on one of the leather chairs. Then I froze as recognition hit.
I turned to face Andrew with anger and distrust. Did he fucking stalk me and Linden? How did he find out who we were? What the actual fuck! Oh, I was going to fucking call the cops faster than his head could spin. First, a word…
He looked up at me, his black eyes growing wide as he stood and backed away from me, raising his hands, sensing the danger.
“You!” I hissed.
“Oh! Ah… Ah…”
“Mr. Cross?” said Mia, our receptionist. “Is there a problem? This gentleman is here for an interview. Do you know this man?”
That stopped me. Interview?