Tied Up by the Boss (Office Kink #2)(27)

I hadn’t seen him today, as had become usual. And he wore a dark gray suit and yellow patterned tie against a baby blue shirt. Again, stunning. I briefly wondered if his mother dressed him. I recalled my chat with her. She seemed to like me, especially when I bragged about her son.

“Have a seat,” he said. I realized I hadn’t rushed to my regular spot in front of him.

I made it over and sat, attempting to hold his gaze without thinking of . . . everything.

“My mum is having a birthday dinner this Saturday night, and she’s asked that you attend.” He seemed to want to get the words out as quickly as possible.

“Me? I only spoke to her for five minutes, tops.” I chuckled.

“She’s turning eighty and doesn’t have many friends. She said she liked talking to you.”

“And you’re okay with this?”

“It’s not my birthday party. My being okay with it is irrelevant.”

Nice answer, jerk. “Who else will be there?”

“Sarah, her home health nurse who looks after her a couple times a week, and her husband, plus a man she met online and his daughter.”

“She gets around more than I do,” I replied, maybe a little jealous.

He raised his brows. “I doubt that.”

“It was a joke, sir.”

“Not a very funny one.”

Sourpuss. “Don’t you think it’ll look suspicious if anyone we know sees me there with you and your family and friends?”

Morgan shrugged. “I’ll make something up. We’ll be in a private room at The Boulevard Restaurant and it will be fairly early, at 5:00 p.m. I’m not worried.”

I swallowed and watched Morgan’s unreadable expression. I wondered if he felt any of the loss I did. But if I stared at him too long, I’d either get more angry or want to fuck his brains out.

He must have taken my silence as indecision. “Listen, I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t think Mum would be thrilled if you showed up. My goal is to make her happy while I can.”

Why did he have to say things like that? Things that made him seem human. And compassionate. “Is she okay?”

He turned and cleared his throat as if he wasn’t sure if he wanted to divulge too much. I knew this was the personal side he hated revealing.

He sighed. “She’s an old woman with advanced COPD. Who knows how much longer she has?”

“I’m sorry,” I said and reached forward to touch his hand. Because it felt like the right thing to do.

He looked down at it and blinked. Then pulled it away and nodded.

I studied him for a moment in this vulnerable state. “I’ll go, but only because I don’t want to disappoint her.”

“I didn’t expect anything else.” He attempted a smile, but it fell short. “See you Saturday then.”

I nodded and got up, heading for the door. Before I left, I turned back. “I admire what you’re doing for your mom. But I think your happiness is just as important to her.” I left before he could answer.



For the next two days I had no real drive to do anything but stay in the lanes. Keeping my nose to the grindstone. Burning the midnight oil. Going for broke. And all those other silly clichés.

Friday morning we had one last team meeting before our afternoon proposal pitch with Axion. Typically, I’d be hyped up and raring to go. Not today. Today I just wanted to get it over with. At least one thing was for sure, they wouldn’t have to worry about me going off on anyone.

I made a point to avoid eye contact with Morgan for the entire meeting, even though his voice and mere presence was distracting. And he didn’t engage with me. I wasn’t sure what was worse?—him pretending I didn’t exist or acting like a pretentious dick.

Afterwards, I walked toward my office to eat lunch and prepare for Axion.

“Hey, Parker! Wait up!” Charlie called out. I stopped. He said something to Steph, who he’d left the conference room with, and then jogged over to me. “Can we talk?”

I must’ve given him an uncertain look.

“Completely friendly, I swear.”

“Sure.” I gestured for him to enter my office. “As long as I can eat in front of you. You’d hate to see me hangry.”

“No worries. It won’t take long.”

I took my bag out of the mini fridge, then sat down to eat the ham and cheese sandwich I made this morning, along with an apple and chips. I didn’t care if Charlie thought I was in fifth grade. It saved time and money.

He stared at me for a moment. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

That was a rather vague question. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, if anything’s on your mind. I’m not going to judge. Thing’s are different about you.” He pointed to my lunch. “You’ve never brought your lunch before. The change in your demeanor. You’re actually somewhat pleasant. It was nice last week, but this week, you seem like your energy has been completely sapped, like you’ve been beaten down.”

“I never knew you cared so much, Charlie.”

“I do miss the sarcasm. But I’m serious. Are you on drugs? Or drinking?”

I laughed as I took a bite of my apple and managed to reply with a full mouth. “I appreciate your concern. But no.”