Page 92 of The Confidentiality Clause
“Yeah?” He runs his hands up the curve of my waist to my rib cage, then back down. “Would you wear it if I asked?”
“I don’t know. I get this treatment when I wear my favorite colors, what would I get if I wore yours?”
“Probably a ring.”
I gape at him and smack his shoulder. “You can’t joke about things like that!”
“Who said I was joking?”
“If you aren’t, then you need to fill me in. I think we missed a few steps.”
The main one being a love confession.
“Maybe we aren’t there yet.” He runs his thumb over my cheek. “But I think we’re on our way.”
I think so too.
Chapter forty-two
Brock Jones
I let out a long breath and shut my computer down. It’s been a whirlwind, but it’s finally over. Today’s fires are out, or at least at bay, and I’m free to go home. A tired smile tugs at my lips as I think about seeing Ariel. She’s likely already at my place and cooking dinner for the both of us. I told her I’d get off no later than six today, and at five forty-five, I’m holding true to my promise. Something I never thought I’d be able to do. But with Ariel’s help, it’s become possible. As has lowering the dose of my medication. I went to the doctor last week, and he told me if I keep feeling the way I do, I’ll soon be off it altogether.
I drape my suit jacket over my arm and head out of my office. Marie clocked out a few minutes ago, but my recent hire, Adam, is still glued to his laptop screen.
I walk over to his desk.
“Time to head home,” I tell him.
“I’m just finishing up this email, then I’ll head out,” he replies.
He’s typing fast, and I know the look in his eyes well. If I leave him here, he’ll be at the desk for at least another hour. I reach over his desk and shut his laptop. He has to yank his hands out the way so they don’t get smashed.
“Mr. Jones–”
I hold up a hand. “It’s time to leave. Go home, eat, sleep, watch a game that one of your clients isn’t in. Call your mom.”
“Yes, sir,” he mumbles and grabs his backpack from beneath his desk. He goes to slide his laptop in it, but I stop him.
“Work stays here. You’re not traveling this week, so you don’t need to take it with you.”
“But I have so much to do. I feel behind.”
I nod in understanding. “And it’ll be there tomorrow. We aren’t saving lives. I expect you to give your all within the hours we agreed upon. After that, you need to go out and live.”
It took a few weeks to find someone dedicated enough to be a good fit for this position. Adam is perfect for it, but his drive is similar to mine, if not stronger. He wants to prove himself. I’m adamant not to create a clone of who I was before, so boundaries have been necessary. It’s not easy to uphold them or enforce them sometimes, but it’s worth it.
He sighs. “Okay, I guess you know best.”
He slings his backpack over his shoulder. We walk to the elevators together and step on in unison. I lean against the wall, exhaustion weighing heavy on me. I’m glad I’ve gotten my sleep schedule in order, or this feeling would be even worse.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Adam typing on his phone.
“I hope you’re not talking to a client,” I say. He freezes, then slowly slides his phone back into his pocket. “That’s better.”
He doesn’t say anything. I’m sure he’s biting his tongue. He’s only been working for me for a little over a week, so he’s too afraid to argue. I hope I can instill good values in him before hegets comfortable enough to give pushback. It’ll save us both a headache.
The elevator opens on the ground floor, and we walk out toward the parking lot together. I pat him on the back before we part ways.
