Page 24 of Just Business
“We?”
“The office.”
Oh now, come on. Sam shrank ever so slightly when he gave himthatlook. “The office? Engineering hardly knows I’m here.”
“They know you’re here, E.” Sam exhaled. “But mostly me. And Justin. We’re... concerned.”
He couldn’t keep the skepticism out of his voice. “Justin?”
Sam gave him an odd look, one he couldn’t interpret for the life of him. “You know what he did for you, yes?”
Eli found himself on his feet because his sudden anger needed an outlet. “Sam.”
Sam pushed himself off the door and planted himself in front of Eli. The disappointment written in Sam’s face, the hurt in his eyes, ripped through Eli and sank claws into his shame and fear.
He ran a hand through his hair. “Yes. I know, and I thanked him for it.”
Sam’s stance softened. “He’s a good guy, E.”
“I know that.” He reached for his gloves and cane. “I need a break from his growling today, that’s all.” So many other things he wanted to say.I like him, Sam. He’s funny and bright and I haven’t felt like this for anyone in years and I want...a touch. A kiss. To discover what Justin’s skin tasted like, the timbre of his moans. Eli shook his head. “When I come back from lunch, I’ll leave the door open.” He met Sam’s gaze. “Have I ever let you down?”
“No.” Sam spoke gently. “Have I?”
“Never.”
Sam nodded and reached for the doorknob. Paused.
“Yes, I made an appointment, Sam Randell Anderson.”
Sam gave him a grin before slipping into the hall.
Eli grabbed his coat off the back of his door, swallowing the lump in his throat. Working for Sam was like working for family—and he’d thought he’d never have any kind of family again. Eli shrugged his coat on and opened the door. There Justin was—all blue eyes, black hair, and eyeliner. Eli met that gaze, his lips suddenly dry.
Sam had told the truth. Worry, concern, and an apology were all wrapped in Justin biting his lip.
Eli turned away and headed out for lunch. Liking someoneandwanting them—too dangerous. Too many pitfalls. He couldn’t control others, not all the time, but he damn well had mastery over himself.
Chapter Five
For once, Justin was the first person at the office. Then again, it was six thirty in the morning, early enough that Brian had waved him into Grounds N’at and let him make a cup, just like old times. Didn’t let him pay, either, which was nice.
Nice. That was a state of being Eli had apparently forgotten. Given Eli’s dark stares and acerbic replies every day since Monday, Justin figured he’d show Eli he could get to work before nine fifteen.
And Justin could turn down the heat in his apartment a bit earlier. Save some money. Justin tossed his bike helmet and bag down by his desk.
Eli was running cold again. Freezing was more like it. An hour without Eli scowling at him would be grand. From kindness and confessions in Eli’s car to stony stares in the office. Typical, but he had enough of his own troubles. Another e-mail from Mercy and one from his parents. A call from a collections agency. Last thing he needed was to deal with Eli’s moods.
Eli brought down the whole office. He’d never closed his door—except on conference calls—until this past week, and everyone noticed. The wall he’d thrown up was horrible. Deafening. More than anything, Justin wanted to know how he could to turn Eli’s tap back to warm—or at least tepid. Everything he’d tried—banter, wordplay, even turning things slightly sexual—had fallen flat. When Justin pushed, Eli closed down.
Even Sam was on edge and worried—though he’d relaxed a great deal when Eli had left early yesterday.
Justin picked at the black polish on his nails. The weekend was almost here. He could make it to that. Perhaps Monday would bring an entirely new Eli to the office, or at least the return of the one he’d worked with before this week. He’d liked that guy.
The current Eli reminded him too much of Francis. Justin had nearly lost himself slotting himself in between Francis’s moods and demands.
Justin fired up his laptop and fell so deep into figuring out the intricacies of flying Jen and Fazil out to La Crosse, Wisconsin, and housing them for a week within the tiny budget that had been set by Sanhex that he wasn’t aware of anything else until Sam strode through the door at eight thirty.
“Morning, J. You’re here early.”
