After the first few days, I’d assumed he hadn’t taken an interest in me that way. His behavior was at odds with what I typically received from men. He didn’t eye fuck me. He didn’t try to touch me at every opportunity. And the initial ground rules he’d set in place left me with the impression that he felt he was more of a role model than anything else. But this was different. His eyes were darker. Warmer. More predatory and less protective.
I squeezed my thighs together. He cleared his throat. “Make sure whatever you pick is modest and appropriate for the office.”
And with that, he disappeared just as quickly as he’d arrived.
After applying the finishing touches to my hair and makeup, I settled on a form-fitting red Armani sheath dress and gold Valentino heels. The color combination worked well with my skin tone, and the hemline came to just above my knee, so he couldn’t say it was inappropriate.
I joined Lucian at the table for breakfast—oatmeal and fruit—and he read the paper while I attempted to corral my rampant thoughts. The silent war waged on until we arrived at the office, where he gave me a quick rundown of what he expected me to say when I answered calls while I settled into my space behind the desk.
“If anyone calls regarding Emmanuel’s case, I want them patched through immediately,” he instructed. “If I’m not available for some reason, then it’s imperative you take thorough notes of their name and contact information. Do you understand?”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “Yes, boss.”
“No more screwing around today, pet,” he told me. “I need you to focus on the work I’ve given you.”
“What am I supposed to do between phone calls?” I grumbled.
He pointed at a stack of papers and a pen on the desk. “I have some paperwork I need you to sign. Non-disclosure agreements. Work contracts. Even if it’s only temporary, you’ll need to fill it out.”
“Oh goody,” I joked.
“When you’re finished with that, you can make a list for me. Three things that you would do with your life if you could do anything.”
“Seriously?”
He arched a dark brow at me. “Have you ever known me to be anything but serious?”
“No,” I admitted.
“I want serious answers, Gypsy,” he reiterated. “Give it some real thought.”
I wasn’t in the mood to argue this morning, so I just shrugged. “If that’s what gets your jollies off, I guess I’ve got nothing else to do.”
He gave me one final glance before walking into his office and shutting the door.
If I’d learned anything from my brief internship at Lucian’s office, it was that real work was boring as hell. I kept glancing at the clock on the wall and wondering if something was wrong with it. The phone had rung a total of seven times, and in almost all the cases, it was a new client looking for an attorney. Per Lucian’s previous instructions, I had to turn them down because he wasn’t taking on new cases. It seemed a bit strange that he would only work one case at a time, but then again, he was super focused.
I spent a good part of the day rifling through the drawers of the desk I had access to, though I wasn’t surprised when I didn’t find any juicy tidbits lying around. The most exciting thing I found was a heavy-duty stapler, if that counted for anything.
Around noon, I realized that Lucian’s meal alarm was about to go off, and I decided I might as well bring it in to him. It would give me an excuse to stretch and at least eat up a few minutes of the day. I grabbed his chicken wrap from the mini fridge and a bottle of water and headed for his office. He didn’t answer when I knocked, but I could hear him coughing from the other side.
I waited for a few more seconds, but the coughing didn’t cease, and it sounded pretty awful. It wasn’t really my concern, and it probably served him right catching a cold, but I figured it wouldn’t kill me to do something nice for him and at least give him the water.
I opened the door and let myself in but stopped when I found Lucian doubled over the garbage can. There were bloody tissues in his hand, and his dress shirt was soaked through with sweat.
“Lucian?”
He looked up at me and shook his head. “Go away.”
My stomach roiled. I could go away, and I probably should, but something wasn’t right. As selfish as I might be, I wasn’t about to leave him alone if he was seriously ill.
“Here.” I walked around the desk and untwisted the cap from the bottle of water, forcing it in his direction.
He looked up at me like he wanted to yell at me, but I didn’t think he could. Instead, he took a long drink and wiped his mouth.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“It’s nothing,” he growled. “Just a touch of bronchitis.”