Stop drawing conclusions then. Act like a normal person.
Jonah sighed and shook his head.
Sacha’s keen stare pierced holes in him. “Something wrong?”
“Hmm? What? Oh. No. Just a long day. I thought it was over, but I forgot my keys.”
“I didn’t see you leave.”
“Hardly surprising when you said you didn’t look that hard.”
“Maybe I was lying.”
Jonah forced himself to face Sacha’s smirk, the one that was equal parts intense and amused. “Do you do that a lot?”
“Lie?” Sacha pushed off the lift wall he was slouching against. “No, not really. I am lazy and the truth is easier.”
“So which is it? Did you look for me or not?”
“Does the truth matter to you?”
“Maybe. I’m not sure it should, though.”
Sacha was suddenly close enough that Jonah could smell him, and his clean, masculine scent took him right back to the moment he’d realised Sacha was serious about coming home with him. Like then, Jonah’s heart jumped, and more frustration built in his gut. Sacha was toying with him, but why? He said himself the truth was easier, so why the hell was he still in the lift?
As the thought completed, the lift stopped. Jonah turned away from Sacha, waiting for the doors to open. They duly did and Jonah stepped out, lifting his hand in a cursory wave. “See you then. Thanks for the chat.”
He walked away without looking back. The lift doors closed. Jonah made his way to his office. It had glass walls, like most of the floor, but he’d shut the blinds before he’d left for a lunchtime meeting, and he took sanctuary in the darkened space, despite the fact that Sacha was already gone and unable to see him regardless.
Shaking his head, he let out a long, slow breath and rubbed his chest, coming to terms with the full body trip he apparently endured every time he was in the Russian’s company. It was…something else. Perhaps it was just as well they seemed destined to avoid each other during office hours. Jonah had too much on his plate to make time for daily meltdowns.
“So this is where you work.”
Jonah startled, and his slowing pulse picked up pace again. “You followed me,” he said brilliantly.
Sacha chuckled. “I did. I don’t know why, though. Maybe I left something here too.”
“What?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t thought of it yet.”
“That makes no sense.”
“Precisely.”
“What is?”
Sacha stared at Jonah like he was the world’s stupidest mutant.
Jonah fought the urge to squirm and rounded his desk, flicking on his computer for something to do before he remembered he’d come for his keys.
He fished them out of the drawer as his iMac flashed to life. The screen filled with the storyboards he’d spent all afternoon pitching to his most high profile client, and more vexation roiled in his gut. The concept Flash Gray had created was cutting edge and crisp—Jonah had lost enough sleep making sure of it—but the client had barely glanced at the images Jonah had brought to the table, instead making it clear that he’d signed with FG because of Jonah’s last name. After months of hard work, it had been a kick in the dick he hadn’t prepared for.
“Death by nepotism?”
He shook his head.Damn you, Sacha Ivanov.
“What is this?”