Carlson
I don’t make it obvious my focus is a hundred percent on Suzette and has been the moment she strolled into the conference room, looking drained but beautiful. To be precise, she captured my focus long before that. Not that I’m ashamed or embarrassed, but it’s really none of these peoples’ business. I knew the second she processed Hawkes’s bold proclamation, could read the shock, disbelief, and dread on her pretty face.
And the hurt. I didn’t know why, but it was palpable even from across the room.
While the ass chasers surround me like a pack of driveling poachers, I watch her at last get up, her motions jolting and seemingly on autopilot.
I wasn’t embellishing when I told her I was near her apartment after finally being able to reach her Saturday night. Easing into a guest spot near her empty parking space, I got out of the car despite the fact she claimed she wasn’t home. I was so agitated, the cold air bounced right off me as I zipped to her front door, only to have my repeated banging go unanswered. Neither was it answered the next day.
I spent the entire fucked up weekend trying to get a hold of her, but each time I attempted to call it went straight to voicemail.
As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t tell her I was at the hospital because Marty fell and fractured his hip during physical therapy. I was already on my way to Suzette’s when Hawkes’s somber call had me changing direction. I would’ve called Suzette then to let her know I’d be a bit late, only Hawkes went on one of his urgent HC-needs-you tangents the entire time until I arrived at the hospital. Once inside, I discovered cell phone reception was spotty at best and nonexistent at most, but I foolishly believed I’d only be there for a few minutes to ensure Marty was still breathing so I could ease Hawkes’s mind. A few minutes turned into an hour that inched closer to two, and it was during the older, fragile man’s tired and sad attempts at speech that I made my decision.
Hawkes couldn’t be more thrilled.
Marty didn’t want me to share his disheartening condition with anyone except Hawkes, and I could do nothing but reassure the frail, broken man.
Luckily, the hospital wasn’t too far from Suzette’s apartment. I wasted no time dialing her as soon as I was able, feeling like a grade-A jackass for not getting a hold of her sooner. I was going to make it up to her, though, determined not to let what happened deter our date.
She didn’t give me the chance, but I didn’t hold it against her for being upset. I basically blew her off without an explanation.
I figured to let her cool off.
Being the Interim COO doesn’t change anything between us, but by her grim reaction to the announcement a little while ago, I’m thinking letting her cool off might lead to her freezing me out entirely.
“—will do an excellent job. I’m happy to help in whatever capacity.”
Who is this guy? Some clown from Accounting, I think. Who cares?
“Thank you,” I grumble.
“I have no doubt Carlson will take HC to the next level,” purrs that garish face girl from the reception desk, who’s all over me like a bad rash. Or a blood-sucking mosquito. “Mr. Hawkes made a wise decision. Carlson’s intelligence and savviness are exactly what we need.”
It takes cleverness to ram her nose way up my ass while rubbing her tits against my arm.
Several people nod in mindless agreement.
Spare me this corporate bullshit.
“I gotta get to work,” I say with them gazing up at me with unabashed anticipation, waiting for me to utter something so profound they’re ready to collapse on the spot by my blinding brilliance. “And, um, thanks.”
My long legs quickly diminish the distance to the other side of the office. The receptionist determined to add tit-rubbing to the Olympics calls after me, but I pretend she’s wheezing after someone else. I need to speak to Suzette. Pronto. There aren’t a lot of discrete places at HC, not with the surveillance cameras all over the common areas, but there is one good thing about being the Interim COO.
I have a private office.
The moment I step onto the executive suites Hawkes’s assistant is there. Without breaking stride, I grunt in appreciation as she immediately offers a fresh cup of coffee. Linda’s much shorter legs hasten to keep up.
“Sam Fraser would like to meet with you, the sooner the better,” she starts, her breaths puffing as she jogs a few steps. “Unless you have any objections, I’ll schedule something for today. Mr. Hawkes asked for you to review a few pending contracts. I forwarded them to you in order of priority.” She swipes at her bangs as we near the private offices, disordering the few strands of silver peeking through the darker ones. “John Fan in Legal needs your approval to proceed with the notice of lien—”
I throw open my new office door. “Get me Suzy Sun in Marketing.”
Rushing feet halt just outside of the threshold. “Marketing?” she repeats with a baffled frown, can’t fathom my need to talk to anyone in that department when there are a hundred more pressing matters.
“Suzy Sun,” I remind her and shut the door in her panting face.
Marty’s office is orderly and nondescript. The view outside the walls of windows is magnificent, the dark wooden desk in front of them large and durable. No momentous or silly photos decorate the top of the credenza, a solid clue Marty doesn’t have any close family.
Stacks of files are neatly piled near two wide monitors. Rounding the desk, I plop down on the leather chair, shifting this way and that to test it. Not bad.
A soft chime sounds before Linda’s no-nonsense voice comes through. “Suzy Sun is not at her desk. Is there someone else in Marketing you’d like to speak with?”
“No.”
A fleeting hesitation. “I see. I’ll have the admin team summon her.”
Suzette might be able to shut off her phone and dodge me on her own time, but she can’t avoid me forever, not when we both work in the same office.
And I can dictate how and where she spends her working hours.
I take a few minutes to get acquainted with the computer and scan through the numerous emails. Despite not being overtly involved in the day-to-day of HC, I’m more than familiar with the network and the complex database system. I might have taken a step back from the forefront, but I’ve always been deep in the trenches. I didn’t need to wait for IT to assign a temporary login for me. My access level surpasses that of the employees, though only Hawkes and the head of information security are aware of it.
Pulling up the contracts Hawkes wants me to review, I briefly glance through the familiar terms. My comments and agreement are just a formality. Per our routine, we’ve already dissected every clause and debated on proposed revisions weeks before Marty was out of the picture.
After all, when other kids were mindlessly cavorting on their gaming console, I was elbow deep in contractual languages, obligations, and dissecting risks and rewards with Ma.
“Carlson?” Linda’s voice intrudes after the buzz as I formalize an acceptance of the terms. “Suzy Sun from Marketing is on her way.”
“Thanks, Linda.”
A decisive click, and my email response to Hawkes is sent.
I’m responding to yet another email, this time from Sam Fraser, the Director of Construction, when a brisk rap at the door has me glancing up.
Hand on the handle, Linda peers in. “Suzy Sun is here.” She steps aside and motions for Suzette to enter my office. “May I get you both anything?”
“Nothing for me. Thank you.” Beautiful face stiff, Suzette keeps her blank gaze at a spot just over my shoulder.
Without a word, Linda latches the door and leaves me with the cold front from the fifty-sixth floor.
Each silent second that ticks has Suzette’s posture becoming more and more rigid. Her hands are clasped a tad too tightly to be considered casual, her shoulders hunched in protectively as though bracing for something. What she thinks I’m going to do, I can’t begin to guess.
“You wanted to see me, Mr. Carlson?”
Mr. Carlson? Is my Pops here?
Irritation skates up my spine. Pushing off my chair, I take in her wary gaze as I round the desk and lean back against it. “Why the sudden formality?”
“I’ve got a lot of work to do, and I’d like to get back to it,” she says, deliberately ignoring my question.
“No, you don’t. Not until after the holidays, anyway.” I pay attention to these things, which is one of the reasons Hawkes was so adamant about my stepping in. “You’re still upset.”
I get the blank stare again.
“I’m sorry about Saturday. It couldn’t be helped,” I reason. I’ve thought about this over the frustrating weekend and figured I owed her some explanation. “I can’t tell you what went down, but it does have something to do with someone being hurt. It was unexpected. I didn’t blow you off.” She’s still not looking at me, but I can tell she’s listening. “I…” I hesitate, raking my hair back, then decide, fuck it, just tell her. “Imissedyou.”
Clearly not expecting that, her gaze zips up to mine. It takes a few tense heartbeats for her mouth to work. “Did you say you missed me?”
I grunt an affirmative. She might as well know.
She softens visibly, and I go in for the kill. Reaching out, I smooth my palm from her shoulder down to her arm. She has on a long sleeve sweater, but I can still envision her velvety skin underneath. A delicate shiver, then her fingers are unfastening from each other. I take that as an invitation and capture the fingertips on one hand.
“Come here,” I murmur and begin tugging her towards me.
It’s not immediate, but she slowly gives in and allows me to pull her against me. She’s delicate and warm in my arms and smells so good I want to inhale her. Her arms come around me and she presses her cheek on my chest right over my hopping heart.
“I got dressed up for you,” she confesses in a small voice. “You would’ve liked it.”
Fuck. Of course, she did. She waited for me for over an hour. My ass needs to be whipped for what happened.
“I owe you dinner.”
She falls silent, though her arms tighten around me.
“Suzette?”
“I can’t. I have yoga tonight.”
“I didn’t mean tonight, if you’re busy.” I jerk a shoulder. “Maybe tomorrow or the day after. Hell, any day.”
Gradually, she eases back until her soft tits are no longer making my abs happy. “I can’t,” she says again, her determined gaze meeting mine. “It’s not a good idea.”
Warning bells go off in my head, not so much from the words but the finality of them. My scowl is so stern it pains my face. “The fuck it isn’t.”
“I have a rule. I don’t date guys I work with.”
“It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?”
At that, she distances herself even more. Physically and most likely emotionally. “You didn’t work for HC, not really. Not until now.”
“This is temporary,” I remind her firmly. “Six months at the most. There’s no reason to pretend there isn’t anything going on.”
“That’s the thing.” Her gaze falls away. “There really isn’t.”