Chapter 4 #2
She narrows her eyes. “Why the sudden interest?”
I shrug. “Probably nothing. He texted me this morning.”
Jen leans forward immediately. “Reaaally?”
I roll my eyes. “Shut up. He was asking about legal advice. At least, I think he was.”
“Say more,” she prods, straightening in her seat. “You think he was? How are you not sure? That would be a huge account, Spence.”
I take a slow sip of my coffee. “Well,” I tell her, “he said he got my number from Anthony because he needed legal advice.”
Jen nods eagerly.
“When I asked him what he needed,” I continue, “he responded with ‘Will you work out with me?’”
Jen stares.
I shrug. “I told him no.”
She blinks.
“He retorted with a stupid pun assquisitions. I told him to go away. So yeah. Whatever that was.”
Jen bursts out laughing.
“That sounds exactly on brand for Butters.”
I glare.
“You should hit the gym with him,” she says. “It’s no different than a round of golf to land a client—” She stops mid-sentence. “Hold the phone.”
“What?”
“Why didn’t he ask me?” she demands. “I’ve known him since college.”
I laugh. “He said he was afraid of you.”
She scoffs. “Please. You’re scarier than I am.”
“I’m delightful.”
“Still,” Jen shrugs. “You should hit the gym with him. You’re clearly no stranger to exercise. You might land a client. “Or,” she gasps dramatically, “you might actually make a friend.”
“You know damn well I’m not in the market for that,” I remind her. “Besides, I’m well aware who his father is. Public enemy number one against the queer community, women, and anyone with melanin. Just this morning I watched him tell a reporter there is no place in America for homosexuals—”
“Nope.” Jen holds up her hand, effectively ending what was about to be a rant. “I’m going to stop you there. Butters and his father do not see eye-to-eye on a single stitch of his politics. It is a source of contention.”
“Jen—”
“No. You can choose to dislike him for any other reason, but do not mix him in with his father’s vile views. Butters is a good one. One of the purest hearts I’ve ever known.”
“Okay okay. Sheesh,” I retreat, effectively scolded.
Before Jen can fire back, there’s a light tap on my door.
“There’s Parker now,” I say, glancing up. “Hopefully with our redlines.”
“Come in.”
The door opens and Parker steps inside.
He’s twenty-two, a fresh-faced second year law student, and my intern. He’s got the thick athletic build of someone who spends too much time in the gym and his work attire choices are often… questionable. Today, he’s stuffed himself into clothes about one size too small, if you ask me.
File folders are tucked under his arm and a sucker hangs from his mouth, the stick twirling slowly between his fingers.
I raise an eyebrow. “Do you always have to have that damn sucker in your mouth, Parker?”
He grins brightly around it. “Oral fixation,” he says. “I need it. HR approved emotional support lolli.”
Jen cackles.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Just give me the files, Parker. And I thought I told you to email redlines moving forward. You know we limit paper waste in this firm.”
He shrugs and hops onto the edge of my desk. The movement pushes his ass out in a way that is definitely intentional.
Parker drags the corner of one of the folders slowly down the length of my tie before dropping the stack on my desk. “Well then I wouldn’t get to come see you, now would I, Mr. Stark?”
Sighing, I pull one folder from the stack and hand it back to him. “Give this to Ms. Clark on your way out. That will be all, Parker.”
He twirls the sucker between his fingers, slowly pulling it from his mouth before sliding it back in again. “Okay,” he says lightly. “Just let me know if there’s absolutely anything I can do for you.” He winks, then turns and bends dramatically as he hands Jen the folder.
“Goodbye, Parker,” I say flatly.
He saunters out and closes the door behind him.
Silence fills the office.
Jen’s mouth hangs open.
I point at her. “Don’t.”
She shakes her head slowly. “Oh, he’s got it bad for Mr. Stark.” She teases, singing the last two words.
I glare.
“Jesus,” she continues. “That guy’s a walking HR violation. But he’s got an ass that won’t quit. Maybe you should violate it so you’re not so grumpy.”
I lean forward and bury my face in my hands with a groan. “No,” I say, lifting my head. “You don’t fuck where you eat. Or whatever the saying is.”
Jen hums thoughtfully. “Speaking of,” she says, glancing toward the outer desk, “I see you have a new assistant—”
I cut her off immediately, pointing at her.
“No. You absolutely will not.”
She grins.
“Now go review those redlines,” I say. “We need to get this contract out.”
Jen stands with an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. Harsh my bisexual queen vibe, why don’t you?” She walks toward the door, then pauses. “You’re crankier than usual, actually,” she tuts. “Maybe you should fire your intern and help him with his oral fixation, hmm?”
I blink at her, then point firmly at the door. “Get out.”
She laughs, waves me off, and steps into the hallway. “I’ll swing by at lunch.” The door closes behind her.
I wake my laptop and glance at the clock in the corner of the screen. 7:58 a.m.
I lean back in my chair.
This is going to be a long day.