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“No. You did excellent work so far.” He uncorks the whiskey and pours us each a glass. “If there’s anything you need, say the word.”

How about your daughter?

“I appreciate that.” I clink my glass against his.

“And, of course, you can also ask my daughter. I think she’ll be happy to help as well.”

“Of course.”

“Wonderful. I’ll let her know to give you her full cooperation.” Richard grins.

“I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to hear that.” She’d kill me if she knew.

“Well, she should be. It’s not every day I give my stamp of approval.” He takes a sip of the scotch, savoring it. “Ah, exquisite. You have good taste.”

“Thank you.”

“But she’s also stubborn as hell. Gets that from her mother.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “You’ll have your work cut out for you.”

And it’s perfect, just like the way her eyes flash when she’s angry. I take another sip of the smooth scotch. “I like a challenge.”

“I bet you do.” Richard eyes me over the rim of his glass. “Just remember, she’s my daughter. Treat her right.”

“Of course.” I meet his gaze head-on. “I have nothing but the utmost respect for Mary.”

And I want to fuck her until she screams my name. But I keep that thought to myself.

“Glad we’re on the same page.” Richard finishes his drink and sets the glass down with a thud. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a conference call in a few minutes. We’ll continue another time.”

“Yes.” I finish my drink and back toward the door. “I’ll be in touch about the next steps.”

“Perfect. Good to see you, Connor.” He waves me off, already reaching for the intercom.

I stroll out of the office and down the hallway, whistling and checking the camera feed. Mary’s office is empty once again. I scroll through the cameras and find her at home, curled into a blanket on the sofa with her laptop and coffee. Her hair is secured in a bun, a few stray curls clinging to her neck. She’s wearing a soft sweater and leggings, bare feet tucked beneath her.

Stalkerish? Yes.

Necessary? Also yes.

She hasn’t shown up for work for three days straight now. Is she sick? Or, worse, is she avoiding me?

On the screen, Mary sets aside her laptop and stands, stretching her arms over her head. So cozy and domestic. It makes me ache to be there with her, to wrap her in my arms and nuzzle against her neck, to feel her warmth and breathe in her scent.

She’s trying to torture me. It’s the only explanation.

I spend the rest of the day in the server room, except for some meetings with the head of IT and security. We have already implemented some quick wins, but the actual work is only beginning.

As it’s getting late and the office empties, I get a notification. Mary’s office.

She’s settling in for the evening, energy drink in one hand as she wakes up her laptop. Then she paces her office while typingon her phone and waving with her hand at some points. What is she doing?

The second she throws her phone on her desk like it’s on fire, my phone buzzes.

Mary: Meet me in my office?

Interesting. What’s gotten into her?

Connor: Be there in two.

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