Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Jared
“Morning, boss. What the heck did I do wrong already?” I ask as I ease into my seat behind the reception desk.
My boss, Tank, owner of all things NightShade, grins at me from the other side of the counter. He’s leaning on it like he has all the time in the world to hang out. But I know the man’s schedule. There isn’t a single moment of peace in it.
If he’s not working on something for the Security Division, then he’s over in the Talent Division checking on his celebrity clients or reviewing contracts. He likes to be hands-on with all aspects.
Which is why I’m pretty sure I’m in trouble. I can’t remember doing anything, though that doesn’t mean I haven’t. Let’s be honest, trouble can find me if it wants to.
“I’m not here to get onto you, Jared. I’m here because we have a new hire on the talent side. Grant finally agreed to bring on a paralegal to help him with paperwork. You won’t have to assist him anymore.”
My sigh of relief is audible enough to make Tank chuckle. He knows how much I despise anything related to paperwork and filing. It’s a wonder they even keep me in this job considering how much I should be doing and don’t.
Phone calls I can handle. Pushy clients needing to be put in their place aren’t an issue either. It’s the damn paper-related things that stump me.
“Seriously?” I question, not sure if this is some elaborate prank or not.
“I wouldn’t lie to you about something like that. The guy is new. He’s a friend of Chance’s that I’ve met a time or two. When Grant finally relented to getting more help, Chance immediately suggested the guy. Apparently, he loves doing all the stuff you hate.”
My jaw drops. “Did you run a background check on him? What kind of human being loves that stuff? Maybe he’s an alien.”
Tank shakes his head, his smile never dimming. “Not an alien. And no, I didn’t do a background check because he was a former New Roughoak police sergeant. He left the force and went back to school to study law.”
“How old is this guy?”
“I told you he’s friends with Chance. He’s closer to my age than yours. Not sure why it matters,” he pointedly states.
“Because I was curious. Duh!” I blow a raspberry. “So, the guy was a cop, then he left and now he’s pushing papers. That seems fishy to me.”
“When you meet him, it will make sense. Jerome is a good guy. I really think he’ll fit in here. Hell, he might be just what we’ve been needing.”
He’s not what I need.
My inner thoughts remind me of the letter currently burning a hole in my pocket.
I need to make sure I head straight to the mail room to put it in the outgoing post. I don’t want to risk forgetting.
The sooner Santa has my wish, the more time he’ll have to find the perfect Daddy for me and send him over.
“The other reason I stopped by,” Tank says, drawing my attention back to him, “is because I need you to get with security downstairs to set up his clearance. Be sure to email Jerome with the details he needs to get his badge and parking tag, should he need one.”
“If he enjoys paperwork and drives in this city, then he’s definitely a serial killer. I don’t care what you believe about him being trustworthy.”
Tank shakes his head, then leans closer. I already know what he’s going to ask before he opens his mouth.
“Got anything juicy to share today?”
“Depends on what you want to know. Relationship drama, in-law woes, or basic everyday screw ups?” I raise my brow as I drop the question for him.
He ponders it for a second before saying, “In-law woes. Those are always hilarious.”
Leaning forward to match his conspiratory pose, I dive into a story about one of the guys in the Talent Division who is once again having an issue with his father-in-law.
No matter how much he tries to relate to the man, he hits a dead end.
He’s been faking a love for nearly everything he can think of to bond, yet the father won’t cut him slack.
Come to find out the other man has been turning off his hearing aids and forgetting to turn them on.
Once that was settled, they were able to share a laugh.
Tank is a giggling mess by the time I finish. Looking at the big, scary-looking man, you wouldn’t expect him to love a good gossip sesh like the rest of us. But I think ever since he and his man got together, and they managed to wrap up their last big job, he’s found joy in more than work.
I love that for him.
And really, it benefits us all. Happy boss, happy work life.
“Anyway, I’m heading off now. There isn’t much happening today, but I don’t trust Memphis to not cause some chaos if he’s left alone too long.”
“Where’s Ronan?” I ask, not recalling anything about him being out today. As the person who helps manage the calendars for the teams, I’m well aware of everyone’s vacation and personal time requests.
Tank frowns. “He’s with Damari. Poor guy got sick last night eating some—oh, shit! They were eating Thai food at the new place up the street. Have you been yet?”
“Not yet. I was hoping to go with Donny, but he’s been busy with Grant.”
It takes everything I have not to pout about it. I must not do a good job since Tank hums softly, as if he’s empathizing with my issues.
“Definitely don’t try it now. Maybe stick to your tried-and-true spots.”
“Can do, boss-a-roo.” I wink for good measure to cover up my sadness over the disaster restaurant. As much as I love a good meal, I won’t risk getting an upset stomach over it.
If I had a Daddy though…
No. I still wouldn’t risk it. Eating bad food shouldn’t change just because I would have someone to take care of me. That’s the type of behavior that gets one a spanking.
I shiver at the thought. Why does that sound like a good time even though I know it shouldn’t be?
Thankfully, Tank takes off while I’m having my impure thoughts about naughty times with my nonexistent Daddy. I can’t imagine having to answer him questioning me on why I’m blushing. Nope. No, thanks. Hard pass.
First things first, I tug my letter from my satchel.
I check the address one more time to ensure it’s going to the right place—a P.O.
Box for Santa letters for adults that I found ages ago —and then head toward the mail room.
It’s a few flights down, which means I get to see a few familiar faces along the way that I don’t normally run into.
After waving and chatting with people, I finally reach the right place. There are a couple of people milling about, though not nearly as many as there can sometimes be. NightShade is a huge company. There’s about a million pieces of mail going through here all the time.
Ok, so maybe not a million, but it’s a freaking lot of them.
“Hey, Jared. What brings you to our lovely mail abode?” Percy, the mail room supervisor, asks once he spots me.
I shrug and hold up the envelope. “Outgoing mail. Where can I put it?”
He points to the side of the room as his phone rings. “There’s a cart over there. Drop it and I’ll get it out with today’s stuff.” Then he turns on his customer service voice for whoever is on the call.
I don’t take any offense for the move. It’s one I’ve had to do plenty of times myself. Balancing everything takes a love of work and multitasking. Percy and me are the same word in different fonts.
Walking over to the spot he pointed out shows me two carts. Neither are labeled to indicate what is outgoing and what isn’t. I bite my lip. Percy is still talking to whomever called, and the other attendant is officially MIA.
The carts don’t have any vast differences from what I can see. Not wanting to dig around through anyone’s stuff, I eenie-meenie it until I settle on one. Dropping the letter, I scurry from the room with a quick wave to Percy.
Either I got the right cart, or I didn’t. I’m sure whoever finds my letter, should someone be unfortunate enough to do so, will put it back in the outgoing post. If nothing else, they’ll hunt me down to bring it to me. Most people know me since I work so closely with Tank.
Since I’m already away from my desk, I decide to just go down to the front desk to let them know about the new hire. They’ve probably been sent the paperwork from HR already. And if there’s something they need from me, I can always do it when I’m back at my desk.
I take the elevator to the first floor. When the doors open, I’m greeted by Sinclair.
He’s Memphis’s partner and our official coffee supplier.
His shop has the best drinks in the whole city, and that’s even counting my bestie’s place, which does occasionally have a brew or two depending on the season.
“Oh!” Sinclair startles once he notices me. “I didn’t need an escort up or anything. I brought proper carriers this time.”
It’s then I notice the numerous coffee cups on either side of him. He’s got this custom contraption that allows him to bring all the drinks to us at once. While Memphis, or really any of us, would definitely come down to help him, Sinclair always feels the need to do the work himself.
Stubborn man.
“I’m not here to help, though I totally would. Came down to do the new guy’s security stuff.”
“New guy?”
“Yep. He’s working with Grant. Tank told me about it this morning.”
Dinging draws both of our attention to the still open elevator door I’m blocking. I step out of the way, then motion for Sinclair to climb on. He eyes me, then nods to his right hand.
“You want me to put yours on your desk?”
“Please! I definitely need a boost this morning.”
He grins and nods as the door closes. I watch the numbers climb for a moment before turning to the front desk. There are several people bustling around the space, some looking for visitor passes, and others are inquiring about the public spaces they can access.
NightShade is pretty famous as far as companies in this city go. Even if you took out the actual businesses themselves, Tank fascinates people. He’s part of the who’s who in town, rubbing elbows with billionaires and celebrities of every caliber.
Approaching the desk, I wait for Jim to finish issuing the temporary pass to the young guy who is probably here for an interview, if his overly dressy outfit and obvious nerves are any indication. Once he’s done, he turns to me with a grin.
“Jared, my friend. Tell me your problem and I’ll solve it.”
I shake my head as my own smile widens. “Nothing to solve, really. We’ve got a new hire who needs security clearance. The big guy told me to get with you.”
“You usually email.”
“Well, I was already away from my desk. It made more sense to come on down.”
“Did it?”
I roll my eyes. “It made sense to me, and since I’m the only person who I have to answer to, then it was fine.”
Jim laughs as he turns to face his computer. “Your sass is high today. Let me just make sure there’s nothing else I need from you before I let you go.”
He clicks around for a minute or two as I do some people watching.
As much as I have to deal with people in my job, it’s mostly done through indirect channels.
The front desk is the first line of defense for the building.
I’m the first line for Tank and the other guys.
I don’t get near as many in person issues as this area does.
“Everything looks good,” Jim tells me after a bit. “Jerome sounds like a good guy. Pretty handsome too. I’m masculine enough to admit it.”
He swivels the screen my way before I even ask.
I’m greeted with a picture of one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever seen.
Deep brown skin, hazel eyes, and a sculpted jawline draw my attention first. Then there’s the curve of his lips and the way his shoulders tell me the man has some definite muscle below where the picture cuts off.
I cough and pray Jim doesn’t ask about my blush. A single glance his way shows him nodding as he bites his lip. Bastard clearly wants to laugh at me.
“Yup,” I rasp before turning around and strutting to the elevators. The sound of my friend breaking his control echoes around me as I jab the button.
So what if I think Jerome is sexy?
So what if I think he’d be an amazing Daddy?
My wish is in Santa’s hands now. If it’s meant to be, then it will happen with some Christmas magic.