Chapter 7 Theo
Theo
“There’s a call for you on line two,” Whitney’s smooth voice echoes through the intercom. This has been the only way we’ve been communicating today. I’ve been working with my door closed all day, which I hate to do, but it’s a necessity right now.
I have work to do, and I simply can’t do it knowing she’s sitting outside my office at her desk, her perky little tits pressed so perfectly together in that tight, blue, low-cut blouse she’s wearing today.
My fascination with her has only worsened the longer I’ve been here, which is problematic at the very least.
I seem absolutely obsessed with how her cheeks turn a bright, rosy color when I call her Whit. Honestly, it was an accident the first time it happened, but the second time, and all the times I’ve done it after the fact, assuredly were not.
I feel compelled to sneak the nickname in as often as I possibly can so that I can see her slate blue eyes glitter and her cheeks flush in the sexiest way possible.
If I weren’t drowning in reports and responsibilities, it would probably be fine.
Or if she weren’t an employee under my payroll.
It may say a lot about me that the second detail was less important than the former. After all, if I didn’t finish the tasks assigned to me by my deadline, she wouldn’t be my employee anymore anyway, because I would no longer hold the position as her boss.
I dig my fingers in my hair and groan, giving the strands a slight tug and releasing some of the pent-up tension throughout my head.
These financial reports are getting increasingly worse the longer I look at them.
More and more evidence is piling up that there were some back door deals made somewhere and that Vance Peterson knew about them all along.
But I can’t find the missing piece to tie it all together.
Numbers aren’t my strong suit, and I think he was banking on that. Whatever he did, he wove it all together with a stealthy hand and hid it so effortlessly that you’d only catch it if you were looking at it.
But even though I’ve been looking at it for weeks now, I still can’t put it all together.
And underneath all that frustration is a sense of guilt toward the fact that Whitney still knows none of this. I know I’ll have to tell her at some point, but I’m going to wait for as long as I possibly can, and ensure that I am absolutely certain before ruining her opinion of the prior CEO.
Happy to have some kind of distraction, I pick up the phone and click the line two button, giving a quick greeting.
“Theo?”
I lean back in my chair as soon as my mother’s familiar voice rings through the receiver. I lean back in my chair and fight off the affectionate smile that only my mother seems capable of bringing out of me. “Hi, Mom.”
“I was just calling to check up on you, I haven’t heard from you in weeks,” she says. I can hear the sound of papers rustling on the other line, meaning my mother is probably at her own desk, sorting through her own piles of work. I wonder if her eyes are going as cross-eyed as mine have been.
“I’ve been busy,” I tell her as I rub the back of my neck and turn my head to peer out the windows.
It’s full-blown autumn here in Chicago, though with every day, it seems to be leaning more and more toward winter.
The skies have been a dreary, midwestern gray for most of the week.
Having spent the last few years in London, I’ve grown accustomed to it, but I do miss the bright skies from the East Coast, where my family is from.
“How has everything been going?” Mom asks.
I exhale. “It could be better, could be worse.”
She chuckles. “One of those situations, hm?”
I make a noise deep in my throat, acknowledging that it is indeed one of those situations.
“Listen, Honey, I was also calling to confirm that you’ll still be in attendance for the gala at the end of the month.”
I close my eyes slowly. I had completely forgotten about that, actually, with the amount of stress and work I’ve been doing. I don’t say as such to my mother, though, putting on a cheerful tone and saying, “Of course. Wouldn’t miss it!”
It just so happened that my mother was just as passionate about affordable housing and combating poverty as I was. She and my father held a charity gala every year for that specific purpose: to raise money for their foundation and many others who are dedicated to homing people who need it.
I’ve never missed a year.
Picking up a pen, I scribble the date of the gala on a sticky note and stick it right on the top of my computer so I don’t forget it. As I stare at the date, I can only think about the mountains and mountains of reports and write-ups that I still need to get through.
“Chase has already told me he won’t be able to make it, but I know I can always count on you. I have you down with a plus one,” my mother continues, oblivious to the inner chaos I’m experiencing at the moment. “Do you know who you’ll bring with you this year?”
“I haven’t a clue,” I tell her. Then my eyes fall on my closed office door, where I know Whitney is sitting right outside. “I’ll work on it.”
My mother makes a pleased sound. “Oh, wonderful. Alright, well, I’ve got to run. I’m having lunch today with Tippy Farthington, and I imagine Lauren will be there as well. Do you want me to give your regards to her? I’m sure she’d love to hear how you’re doing.”
The hairs on the back of my neck rise up, along with the dark feelings of worthlessness the name of my ex-girlfriend always seems to evoke in me.
“Mhmm,” I respond noncommittally, hoping none of those feelings seep through in my tone. That ship containing Lauren Farthington had sailed a long time ago, with no hopes of ever being found again. Not that I ever wanted it to be either.
“They’ll be at the gala too. Ah, well. Okay. Hope you have a wonderful day. I can’t wait to see you at the end of the month.” She makes a kissing noise on the other end of the phone, and then she hangs up.
With another long glance at the door, I try to bury myself in my work again, pushing all thoughts of my ex-girlfriend and my family aside, and trying to focus on the disaster brewing here underneath all the financial reports from last year.
But, unfortunately, I end up just giving myself a headache.
A knock on my office door has me looking up.
I expect it to be Whitney, coming to keep me on track or bring me the lunch I ordered, but instead, I’m caught off guard when I first, catch sight of the time, realizing the workday is nearly over, and second, when I see my brother’s familiar face peering in through the door frame.
I blink a few times, reorienting myself.
My brother steps into my office and slides his hands into his pockets, shooting me an amused grin. “Glad to see you too, brother. Thought I’d get a little warmer welcome than a confused smile. It looks like you’re constipated, dude. Wipe that grin off your face.”
That snaps me out of it. I shake my head and push away from my desk, closing the distance between Chase and myself. I hug my brother, glad to be seeing him for the first time in weeks.
He claps me on the back and then lets me go.
“‘Bout time you showed up,” I tease him. “These financials are killing me, man, I’m going to lose my mind any second.”
My brother chuckles under his breath and pats me on the head. He loves the fact that he’s a few inches taller than me. “You may be the oldest, but you’re definitely not the smartest.”
At that moment, Whitney peeks her head around the door frame and gives me a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, Theo. He insisted that I let him in.”
I wave her further into my office, still smiling widely. “Whitney, this is my brother, Chase. He’ll be joining the company as the CFO.”
Whitney, ever the professional, holds out her hand to Chase. My brother’s eyes flare a bit as he takes her in, and I resist the urge to punch him in the throat for ogling her. I’m really on edge. Chase takes her hand, shakes it, but then holds on for just a moment too long.
“Pleasure to meet you, Whitney,” he says. I don’t like the sound of her name on his lips, and I have to bite my tongue.
She gives him a warm smile but pulls her hand back from his. “Glad to have you on board. Someone’s got to keep your brother in line.”
My brother laughs, but I eye her suspiciously, curious if she’s referring to our little rendezvous in the broom closet.
We haven’t had a chance to discuss what happened with that, with both of us choosing to sweep it under the rug and move on with business as usual.
It’s not as if we don’t have plenty of other things to keep us occupied.
Honestly, I’m not sure I’d even have a valid excuse if we did end up discussing it. I shouldn’t have leaned in. I shouldn’t have brushed my lips against hers. I just shouldn’t have.
End of story. Period.
But I did. And I’m itching to do it again.
Secretly, I’m dying to know how she’s feeling about it. Is she yearning for another taste like I am? Is it all she can think about when she lays down in bed at night? Or was she uncomfortable with the whole thing? Does she want to pretend it never happened?
If she had been uncomfortable about it, I would want to know so I could solidify those boundaries. I wasn’t about to make her job a place where she didn’t feel safe coming to.
But if she felt the same as me?
Well, I’m not quite sure what I’d do with that information.
My animalistic side imagines that I’d grab her, pin her to the wall, and kiss her exactly how a woman should be kissed.
The more rational side of me thinks I’d nod slowly and internalize my relief that she had similar feelings to mine.
Either way, I don’t believe that this conversation will be had in the near future, so it doesn’t matter how I’d react.
“Yeah, my big brother, here, is the looks of the operation,” Chase teases. “But I’m the real mastermind behind it all.”
I roll my eyes. “Just because you’re good at numbers.”
“Among many other things,” Chase says, shooting Whitney a wink.
I grit my teeth so tightly my jaw starts to ache.
Whitney looks amused but doesn’t seem impressed by my brother’s antics.
Chase claps his hands together and looks between the two of us.
“So, what’s on the agenda for tonight? What special ‘Welcome to Chicago’ activities do you have planned for me? ”
“Um, nothing,” I say with a shrug.
“Come on, man. It’s a Friday night in the big city,” my brother whines. He then whips out his phone and rapidly taps on the screen. “Here, how about this place?”
He holds out his phone to show me the nightclub he just pulled up on a whim. I narrow my eyes at it. The Underground? I’d never heard of the place, but I’m also new to this city.
He shows it to Whitney, who peers at the screen but then grimaces a little. My stomach twists with her reaction. She’s not into it.
“Maybe we should try something else,” I suggest, thinking we could have a sit-down dinner at a fancy restaurant down town. Whitney would be much more comfortable with that. Maybe she’d even wear a nice cocktail dress.
“Aw, come on. This place has raving reviews. Have you ever been there, Whitney?”
She shakes her head. “No. I remember when it opened. It was a big deal. My friend, Leila, has been there many times, though.”
“Oh yeah? You should invite her. Maybe she can show us the ropes,” Chase says, winking at her again. A slow fire burns in my chest and my brother grins wickedly at me. I know he’s ribbing me like this on purpose.
“I don’t know,” Whitney says, still unconvinced. I can practically see the wheels spinning in her head, and I wonder if she’s mentally making a pros and cons list as we speak.
“Please. I need an expert to show me all the best places in this city. And my brother clearly needs an excuse to relax. I mean, his shoulders are up to his ears.”
I stare daggers at my brother and he steps behind me, squeezing the muscles of my shoulders and dragging them down to where they should be. I give nothing away, though now that he mentions it, I can feel the tension bound tight in my traps.
“Okay, okay,” Whitney concedes, her lips curving up in a smile. “I’ll see if Leila can tag along. Usually, she’s always down for a night out, and she’d be your expert.”
My brother looks enthralled. “Perfect! See, I knew we’d come up with something.”
He looks at me expectantly. I stick my hands in my pockets and exhale. “Well, I guess this is happening, then.”
Whitney gives me an amused look, her slate-blue eyes glittering. I can’t help but smile when she’s looking at me like that. I glance at my wristwatch and then announce, “Think it’s time we call it a day, huh?”
Now Whitney’s eyebrows arch up on her forehead. I suspect she’s about to protest that we still are supposed to be here for another hour, but she doesn’t. Maybe it’s the sly look I give her or how my brother looks like the cat who got the cream, but Whitney plays along flawlessly.
“I’ll go grab my things. We’ll meet you there.” Now it’s her turn to wink, but she doesn’t do it at Chase.
Fuck, no.
Good thing too, cause that might have been just the thing to set off the tension coiling inside of me like a tightly wound spring
No. She winks at me.
My slacks tighten as my cock hardens at the sight of her long eyelashes fluttering against her cheek.
I clear my throat and dip my chin. She wastes no more time before bouncing out of my office to grab her personal items from her desk.
When Chase and I finally leave the building half an hour later, I can tell he’s itching to razz me about the little interaction in my office.
Once we’re in the car and the driver pulls away from the building, he turns on me.
“So, it’s like that, huh?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure. If you want me to back off Whitney, all you’ve got to do is say so,” Chase says to me, still typing away at his phone.
I glower out the window. “I don’t care what you do.”
“Really? Because your jealousy would say otherwise. I think you’re turning a little green.”
“Fuck off,” I mutter. “I’m not jealous.”
My brother laughs. “Whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep at night.”
I grumble under my breath, but don’t say another word out loud. The last thing I need is for my brother to have more ammunition against me or to know exactly how deep my feelings for Whitney are beginning to run.