Page 5 of A Father's Bliss

“Troy.” I start but stop when I know it won’t do any good. “I’ll call you when I leave.”

“You fucking better.” He smiles and turns for the door. “I’m taking pops out for dinner tonight, but you know how agonizing that is, so I’ll definitely have my phone.”

“Yeah, I took my old man out for lunch because get this, he has a date.”

Troy winks. “Who do you think set up his account?”

“You didn’t.” I gasp, fakely scandalized by the news. While I love my father, he is an emotional mess. On Father’s Day particularly, he often goes on and on about still being a single dad, so finally Troy and I decided operation find-someone-to-date-my-dad needed to be in full effect. Hopefully, it goes well and he won’t call me later tonight after his second bottle of wine apologizing about how tough he raised me and how he’s worried I’ll never find “soft edges,” whatever the fuck that means. I roll my eyes every time.

When Troy leaves, I adjust my high waisted skirt, and run a hand through my waves while fighting the sudden nerves ricocheting down my limbs. It takes at least four deep breaths, a pep-talk about how there’s no reason to be nervous, and reapplying mascara and gloss twice before I pack my stuff and head to Mr. Debois’ office.

I’m not sure if I’m that nervous and my mind is playing tricks on me, but it seems as if Marcus’s office has gotten darker.

Pulse thrumming lower than what’s appropriate, I lift a hand and gently knock on the glass door separating us. He stands, moving around his desk and opening the door with a soft smile. “Renee. Thank you for stopping by so late.”

One of my shoulders lifts in a lazy shrug as I step inside. “Not five quite yet. You got me forrrrr…” I glance at the clock hanging on his wall in an attempt not to look at his ass as he walks back behind his desk. “Six minutes.”

He releases a low chuckle that slices through the air and straight into my core. “Then I’ll make it quick.”

“Oh, you don’t have to,” I rush out a little too fast. “Take your time.”

Something I can’t decipher passes over his dark eyes but he quickly shakes it away and opens a palm toward the chair across from his desk. “Have a seat.”

Though it’s a suggestion, the commanding undertone gives me the best type of shiver. I sink into one of the deep leather chairs and cross my feet at the ankle.

Four years, and not much has changed about Marcus’s appearance. His suits are always pressed and tailored to fit his build, though he never wears the jacket and always insists on keeping the sleeves flipped at his forearms—something I notice because the damn veins that run along the length and into his hands have always been my weakness. Perfectly cut and styled hair that has been recently kissed with silver along his temples. Stubble that never seems to grow or disappear, and a singular dimple that still brings me to my knees every time it emerges.

Never would I have thought I’d be so attracted to a person fifteen years my senior but fuck, this man is gorgeous. Not only that, but he’s intelligent, well spoken, riveting, and puts up with my dry sarcasm like he enjoys it.

He’s the whole package. The whole perfect, forbidden, package.

“I’m sure your father has already given you an indication as to why I wanted to speak with you.”

It’s not a question but I answer it all the same. “Yes. After that little show he put on I knew it had to do with me.”

“Yes, well. You know your father has a flair for the theatrics.” Marcus leans forward, his elbows resting on the desk so he can thread his fingers together. “You do very well in your current position, and I only proposed it as I thought it would be beneficial for you to experience another side of publishing.”

I nod, excitement blooming in my chest. “I wholeheartedly agree, and he did too after he saw through his own pettiness.”

“He is rather fluent in that as well.”

“Oh for sure.” I huff, sitting up a little straighter. I don’t miss the way a nerve in his jaw ticks when I do, but also, I could beimagining it. “So my father explained it’s a temporary position until Jennie comes back from maternity leave.”

He nods. “Correct. She'll be gone between eight to twelve weeks, after which I’ve told her she may return remotely if she’d like.”

“That’s kind of you.” Not only would my father have a heart attack if he didn’t have access to his assistant, the execs here aren’t fond of work-from-home. Which is stupid considering all the data that backs up increased productivity, but whatever.

His mouth tugs at the corner. “It just makes more sense. Much too early to come back when adjusting to a new life. I know I would have appreciated the extra time.”

I drag my teeth over my bottom lip. Harrison told me that Marcus was only eighteen at his birth, and the mother—an athlete who was about to get a full ride scholarship—dumped him on his doorstep to take care of. Being as Marcus’s family has money, it was easier for them to take in the child, but it was very unfortunate that his mother wanted nothing to do with him.

I’m pretty sure that’s why I tolerated a lot of his behavior. I understood what it was like to grow up without a mother, and although I didn't do a fraction of the shit he did, I knew her absence affected him deeply. And he manipulated the hell out of Marcus because of it.

Out of all the things he did, learning he was doing that to Marcus was when I’d had enough.

“Do you have any questions?” His silken voice draws my attention to his mouth for the briefest second.

My cheeks bloom with warmth as I force my eyes on his. “No. I think just understanding what it is you’re looking for in the manuscripts would be beneficial.”

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