Page 15 of Just Business
“So you did.” The smile didn’t diminish. “Get your laptop and cord. I’ll show you the tasks on your computer. Kill two birds, as it were.”
When he returned, Eli was carrying a chair from the center table to his desk, his face twisted in pain.
“If you’d waited, I could have—”
The words died in Justin’s throat when Eli looked up. A fleeting glimpse of deep anger and pride, which vanished under what Justin had assumed was cold indifference.
A mask. Same one his sister wore sometimes.Shit.Car crash when he was fifteen. Meant Eli had been living with his leg for half his life or more.You’re a fuckhead.
Eli straightened. “I’ve told everyone in the office this—including Sam—and I will tell you. If I want your help, I’ll ask for it. If I don’t, then I don’t want your help. Is that clear?”
“Yes.” Justin clutched the laptop to his chest, which hurt like hell. He knew that look, had seen it on Mercy. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me.”
Eli patted the chair. “Come sit. I’m not mad, just...”
“Frustrated?”
Another sharp look from Eli.
Justin held the computer tighter. “My sister lost her legs in Iraq. I should know better.”
A look of understanding and compassion. “Justin, sit down.”
For once, the command didn’t rankle. Justin sat and placed the laptop on the desk. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“No, you weren’t.” No rancor. Eli slid into his own chair. “Is not thinking going to be an ongoing issue?”
Justin couldn’t help the flinch. “Don says I have a habit of leaping before seeing whether there’s ground underneath. Good sometimes...”
“... but not others.” Eli chuckled. “Yes, that’s Don.” He paused. “You did fine with approaching Sam. Surely that was premeditated?”
“Oh, when I want something, it’s easier.”
“Good. That’s a starting point, then.”
“For what?”
“Giving you incentive to think.”
Holy fuck, the edge to that smile and bright flash of teeth. Every minute with Eli was like working in goddamned free fall.
Eli nodded toward Justin’s laptop. “Open that thing, and I’ll show you how to do the most hellish job in the office.”
Training with Eli wasn’t that bad. Expense reports were tedious and boring, but they gave a glimpse into the work Sam did. Justin drove the process as much as he could, Eli walking him through the steps.
“You do this for engineering, too?” Justin stretched, popping a few vertebrae in his neck.
“I tried having them do their own, but I ended up redoing them.” Eli tapped absently on his desk. No gloves. Those sat to the right of Justin, the faint odor of leather washing up from time to time.
“It’s not going to scale well.”
“Oh, don’t I know that.” Eli stretched his arms over his head—and shit, the man had muscles underneath the sleeves of his shirt. Smelled good, too. A scent clean and deep—sandalwood? “Theory is, when we’re big enough for it to matter, we’ll have better software, training, and staff.”
“But for the time being it’s not worth the struggle?”
Eli lowered his arms. “Exactly.” He tapped Justin’s computer. “Think you can repeat that?”
“Yeah. It’s straightforward enough, if you have the right paperwork.”
