Page 50 of Fierce Storm
“Do we have any other options?”
“We do, but we haven’t looked into them enough, because at a glance, they didn’t look like a good fit.”
“We may need to change shape.”
“I agree. Let me talk to a few contacts I know. I’ll see what I can find out.”
“Thanks, Wes. I’ll do the same, while also tackling our little image problem. That book couldn’t have come at a worse time. Myers is all about upholding his good reputation. I can understand his hesitancy to leave one negative team for another.”
“I hate to say it, but you’re right. When I heard the news, I couldn’t fault him for it.”
“That’s why we have to fix it. And fast.”
I pat Wes on the shoulder as he leaves, releasing a long, drawn-out breath before Tabitha announces herself. “Sorry to interrupt, sir. If you don’t need anything, I have that dinner…” She trails off, cringing when my eyes meet hers.
It takes me a second to process her words before I rush to apologize. “Sorry. Of course. You were supposed to leave thirty minutes ago.”
“Wes looked anxious when he walked past, so I wanted to wait in case you needed me.”
I smile in thanks. We’ve come a long way, Tabitha and I. At first, I didn’t think it was going to work out between us, but other than her annoying habit of calling me “sir,” she’s been a godsend. “I appreciate you waiting, but you can go. I know tonight is important to you.” And while I’m certain I need help, it’s not Tabitha I want.
“Thank you, sir. Would you like me to come in early tomorrow?”
“That’s not necessary. Enjoy your anniversary.” In the almost two years we’ve worked together, Tabitha has only ever requested this night off. Both years. For her anniversary. And while I’d never expect her to work the long hours that I do, she never asks to go home. She always waits until I dismiss her, and sometimes, I forget. No matter how many times I tell her sheshould just leave when it hits seven, she never does, unless I say goodbye.
I once found her out here at nine p.m. and immediately gave her a raise.
Sometimes I wonder if I need an assistant to manage my assistant. Or…I could work on leaving the office earlier myself. I could embrace the whole work/life balance bullshit and take my work home instead.
Though, I’m not sure that’s what the term means.
Tabitha pulls my door closed behind her as she leaves, and the second I hear the soft click, I’m retrieving my phone and messaging Keeley. Did I promise myself I’d try to rely on her less after our moment on Saturday night? Yes. Am I failing on day two? Also yes.
This is an emergency. And if anyone can calm me during a crisis, it’s her.
SALVATORE: Any chance you want to help an old man out?
I cringe as I press send, but it’s too late to take it back.
KEELEY: Stop trying to remind me of your age, Sal. Just tell me where you want me
Just tell me where you want me.
Where I want her?
Fuck. Iwanther in my bed, on her back with her legs spread. Ineedher in my office to sort out this shit storm of events and…Jesus Christ.
SALVATORE: My office in an hour. I’ll buy dinner. It might be a long night
A long, purely platonic, disaster aversion, work colleague, business only night. Nothing else.
KEELEY: I’ll be there
Keeley arrives fifty-five minutes later, and a loud sigh escapes me, releasing the tension I’d been holding since Wes walked out of my office.
It’s crisis after fucking crisis here at the Storm headquarters, and I don’t know what I’d do without Keeley by my side.
She glides in without so much as a knock and makes herself comfortable on my couch, talking about one of the coaches interrupting her on her way in. “Why is he even here? It’s almost eight.”
