Not Safe for Work(47)

I ground my teeth. Motherf*cker.

I finally got my Red Bull and headed back toward the Zone. It had always annoyed the hell out of me that the partners were so particular about us speaking to clients, especially the rich and powerful ones. God forbid they come in contact with the great unwashed and decide Mitchell & Forsythe wasn’t as elite and mighty as they’d thought.

I snickered to myself. Oh, how my crew and I could horrify clients if we were so inclined. We never would, of course, but it was entertaining to imagine clients coming into contact with our daily antics. I could just imagine.

In the Zone, I downed my Red Bull and got back to work. Fatigue and urgency aside, it was a normal day, more or less. Building, drafting, bantering and my coworkers occasionally catching me spacing out. They cautiously blamed it on my advanced age or fantasizing about Cal’s mom instead of my recent long hours.

I didn’t correct them. What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt me.

*

Teagan and I had just come back from lunch, and had resumed our umpteenth hour of balls-to-the-wall work when the music suddenly shifted to The Imperial Death March again.

Teagan made a sound that was halfway between a sob and a curse.

I dropped my X-ACTO knife and stood to stretch my aching back. What now?

As Marie walked into the Zone, my hackles went up, but to my surprise, she said, “Jon, Teagan, you’re both off for the rest of the day.”

I blinked. Teagan looked at me, confusion written all over her features.

“But it’s not even noon,” I said.

“I know.” She smiled. “But you’ve both earned it. You’ve got a lot of work left to do over the next week or so, and we’ve got some new projects coming down the pipe.”

“But…” Teagan gestured at her model. “But we’ve still got—”

“You can pick it up tomorrow. In fact, you’re both off for the next two days. I want you both well-rested.”

Teagan and I exchanged wide-eyed glances. Then we both shrugged and stepped away from our modeling tables. I didn’t know if this was Rick’s doing, or if the powers-that-be had suddenly grown a mercy bone, but should I look this gift horse in the mouth?

Teagan apparently didn’t feel the need to. Throwing a “Thanks, boss!” over her shoulder, she headed for the door, half sprinting out into the hallway as if she thought Marie was a few seconds away from rescinding our parole.

I picked up my water bottle and keys. “You’re sure about this?”

Marie glanced after Teagan and shrugged. “Well, unless you can catch her…”

I laughed. “I head out that way, I’m not coming back.”

“Good. Enjoy the time off. Get some rest and recharge.”

“But, I could’ve sworn you—”

“McNeill! What are you doing?” Scott waved his arms toward the door. “You’ve got the day off. Go!”

Marie laughed. “He’s got a point.”

“Noted. I’m out of here.”

In the elevator on the way down to the parking garage, I pulled out my phone, and a text from Rick had come through.

You’re welcome.

My pride wanted to rear up and say oh hell no, and technically, he’d done this even after I’d expressly told him not to, but we’d also agreed that what we were doing outside of work didn’t exist when we were here. Either way, at this point, I was too tired to protest.

So I texted back, Thank you. I’ll let you know when I’m awake.

And then I got the hell out of there.

*

I awoke to daylight and the clearest head I’d had in days.

The clock on the bedside table said nine forty-five in the morning. Panic surged through me, followed immediately by apathy. I’d just slept away over eighteen hours that could have been productive, and it felt great, so I just didn’t give a shit.

I closed my eyes and exhaled, simply basking in the luxurious feeling of being rested. I was a shower and a cup of coffee away from being human again.

First things first, though, I grabbed my phone off the nightstand. Unsurprisingly, I had two texts from Rick:

Get some rest. Looking forward to seeing you.

Also bring a toothbrush. Not letting you go home tonight. ;-)

Oh God. Yes. Finally.

Giving orders now, are we? I wrote back.

When my phone buzzed again, it was a call, not a text, and Rick’s number on the screen made me grin.

“Hey,” I said. “Calling to give orders this way instead of via text?”

He laughed, sounding sheepish even over the line. “No, nothing like… I mean, I—”

“Relax. What’s up?”

He cleared his throat. “So how much time off is your boss giving you?”

“Today and tomorrow.”

“Well, the invitation is definitely open. I have to be in the office tomorrow afternoon, but I’m yours until then.”

My skin prickled with goose bumps. Jesus, the idea of having him all to myself made my mouth water. Pity my body was so f*cking tired. “Full disclosure, though—I am f*cking exhausted. Much as I’d like to, I can’t promise much tonight.”

“It’s okay.” The smile in his voice made me dizzy. “I’ll be home around six. Why don’t I make some dinner, and we can just kick back for a while?”