Working It

by Christine d'Abo

  He’d lost so much weight in the past two years his suit hung on him, giving him the appearance of a kid who’d put on his dad’s coat. He could live with that. It was his face that still looked like an imposter’s.

  The surgeons had done an amazing job with his reconstruction. No one who hadn’t spent day in and day out with him would even notice the slight change of his nose’s shape, or the way his left eyebrow didn’t quite curve the right way. But Nolan found his reflection eerie, so close to correct that it was somehow worse than if he’d appeared as an entirely different person. How could he be himself, know himself, and still not recognize the man in the mirror?

  He ran a finger along the side of his jaw where the break had been and pressed against the cheek and into the hole that should have been filled by a tooth. That would be the first thing he’d get fixed the moment he had dental benefits.

  Nolan startled as the door pushed open and a man strode past him. It was easy to let his eyes follow the newcomer, partially because he was all energy and motion, walking with a sense of purpose, but mostly because Nolan didn’t want to look any longer at the flawed restoration project he’d become. The lingering scent of the man’s cologne wrapped around Nolan, making him wonder if the guy’s face was as attractive as the back of his head.

  Wait a minute. What the hell am I doing?

  Nolan’s body froze, and he was helpless to do anything but watch the man in the mirror as he made his way from the urinals to the sink. Shit, shit, shit, look away. Close your eyes. Stop. Looking! Somehow he managed to tear his gaze away before the man finished and made his way to the opposite mirror to fix his tie. As long as Nolan didn’t bring any undue attention on himself, everything would be fine. The man moved, and Nolan was staring at him once more. God, he was far too good-looking.

  Nolan had been lucky enough to come out to his friends and family early in life. While some of his brothers had teased him, they’d always accepted him for who he was. But Nolan wasn’t naïve enough to think that everyone was as accommodating of his sexuality, especially strangers going about their business in the men’s room. And if he went around ogling hot guys in the men’s room, people were likely to draw the obvious conclusion.

  “Something I can help you with?”

  It took Nolan’s brain a second to realize that the deep rumbling voice had come from the man beside him. “Pardon?”

  “You were staring.” The man’s brown eyes locked onto his in the mirror as he finished washing his hands.

  Damn. “Sorry.” Wonderful, nothing like being a lecherous ass at a job interview. “I’m here for an interview and apparently I’m a bit nervous.”

  The man frowned, causing lines to crease his forehead and cheeks. “The secretary pool?”

  “Executive assistant.” He hated the position being called secretary as much as he imagined the women did. “And yes.”

  “That’s unusual. For a man.”

  “Not really. Though I have to admit the competition from the ladies is steep, especially at a company of this caliber.”

  The other man softly grunted. “You enjoy your job?”

  To his surprise, Nolan found himself relaxing. “I don’t know. It will be my first time in the position if I manage to get hired.”

  “We don’t normally hire inexperienced people.”

  Nolan shrugged. “I’m not inexperienced. I’ve had a recent . . . career change and Compass seems to offer a compatible opportunity for my skill set.”

  The stranger looked at him, and Nolan felt a blush begin to creep up his cheeks. The man wore his clearly expensive suit to perfection. His expertly cut brown hair was nearly the same shade of brown as his eyes. He was only a bit taller than Nolan’s six feet, but his broad shoulders and chest were far more expansive than Nolan’s.

  For a fleeting moment, Nolan imagined what it would be like to be wrapped up in those arms and to kiss along that chiseled jaw. Swallowing hard, he tore his gaze away once more. “I better get back. I don’t want to be late.”

  If the man acknowledged that, Nolan didn’t wait around to see. The air in the hallway felt a hundred degrees cooler the moment he stepped out. Shit, what the hell had just happened in there? He never let himself get that overwhelmed by another person. At least the throat-squeezing anxiety had lessened.

  The receptionist caught his attention as he came close. “They’re ready for you, Mr. Carmichael.”

  Oh thank God. At least he could get through this now and get home. He needed a bath, a beer, and a good book. “Thank you.”

  The conference room was down a short corridor, and inside were three women. The tallest of the trio stood and held out her hand. “Hi there. I’m Nancy Holmes from HR. This is Janice Weinstein, the manager of our support team, and Nikki Jones, the team lead. Please have a seat.”

  Nolan unbuttoned his jacket and sat opposite the group. “Thank you.”

  Janice picked up his résumé from the top of the stack of papers. “Your work history is very impressive, Mr. Carmichael.”

  “Please, call me Nolan. And thank you.”

  “Though you don’t have any assistant experience.” The smile Janice gave him didn’t reach her eyes. Oh no, that wasn’t good. “First thing I want to do is let you know about our process. We’ll give you a moment to tell us about your work history, then we’ll ask you a series of behavior-based questions. There’s no right or wrong answer with those. We simply want to get a feel for who you are as a person and if you’ll be a good fit for our team.”

  He hated behavioral questions. It always came down to whether his answers were less obnoxious than everyone else’s, and he knew he could be a smart-ass at times. “Excellent. I’m looking forward to it.”

  Janice glanced at her colleagues and nodded. “Please tell us a bit about your work history and why you’re making the change from corporate trainer to administrative support.”

  He opened his mouth to speak, when a loud knock on the door cut him off. Nancy cringed as she stood. “Sorry. One second.”

  Nolan wasn’t certain who was more surprised, him or the trio of women, when the handsome man from the bathroom walked into the room.

  “Mr. Anderson.” Nancy took a step back. “We were just conducting an interview. Is there something I can help you with?”

  Mr. Anderson walked passed Nancy and over to the table where they were sitting. Without looking at anyone, he took Nolan’s résumé from Janice’s grasp and read through it. While the women were silently shouting thoughts at one another about what the hell was happening—and really, they needed to work on their body language—Nolan flicked his gaze between Mr. Anderson and the door. Because there was no logical reason for this guy to burst into the interview unless he was about to call security and have Nolan removed for creepy bathroom behavior.

  That might have been farfetched, but Nolan’s anxiety discarded any more innocuous explanation. His mind settled on the worst-case scenario and told him he’d been discounted before he’d even had the chance to make a bid for the position.

  Shit.

  After an eternity, Mr. Anderson set the résumé down and turned his laser stare on Nolan.

  “Are you single?”

  “Mr. Anderson, you can’t ask that—”

  “Yes, I am.” Assuming the interview was over and Mr. Anderson was just asking random questions to stall for time to let security arrive, Nolan got to his feet and buttoned his jacket, ready to go along peaceably. To his surprise, Anderson’s queries turned more direct.

  “Do you have any issues working long hours? Coming in on a moment’s notice? Redoing reports more than once if they don’t meet my requirements? Dealing with people I can’t be bothered to talk to?”

  Nancy coughed. “Sir, are you looking for a secretary?”

  “Executive assistant,” Mr. Anderson answered without looking away from Nolan.

  He felt his face heat, but he refused to break eye contact. “No, I don’t have issues with any of that. Though if you
need me to do a report more than twice, I would want your expectations clarified so I could make sure it wouldn’t happen again. I might not have a lot of experience as an assistant, but I was always good with paperwork in my previous job and I’m a fast learner. If I don’t know how to do something, I figure it out and master it.”

  Mr. Anderson hit the side of his thigh with his open palm. “Your evaluation period is three months. I can fire you for any reason in that time.”

  What? “I understand.” Liar! You don’t have a clue what’s going on here. It finally dawned on Nolan that he was not, in fact, about to be thrown out on his ear.

  “Monday morning, 7 a.m. I expect you at my office.” Mr. Anderson tossed a glare at Nancy. “See that the paperwork is done.” As quickly as he arrived, Mr. Anderson was gone.

  Nolan looked at the women, who were staring at him, shocked. He cleared his throat. “I know I was here, because my feet haven’t moved, but would one of you mind telling me what just happened?”

  “That was Mr. Zachary Anderson.” Nancy spoke with a mix of awe and something that could have been mistaken for lust.

  “I got that. But who is he?”

  Janice rolled her eyes. “You’ve applied for a job at Compass and you don’t know who the senior management team is?”

  “Well the CEO is Samantha Rollins, but I wasn’t familiar with the others. I wasn’t expecting to be railroaded in an interview.”

  Nancy made a clicking noise. “Yeah, he does that. Mr. Anderson is the CTO. He’s in charge of all technology decisions at Compass. He’s basically the third most powerful man in the company, and the most difficult of all our executives to work with. We’d given up trying to find him an assistant after the last four either quit or he fired them.”

  Nolan’s knees got a bit weak. “Oh.”

  “And he’s your new boss.” She held out her hand. “Welcome to Compass, Nolan. God help you.”

  Zack ignored the stares of the employees in the lobby as he strode through toward the exit. He needed to get out of the building for a few hours and get a drink or else he was going to lose his mind. Maybe it was already too late for that, given the odd way he’d been acting all day.

  He’d hired himself an assistant this morning.

  Again.

  He hated having an assistant. Hated being micromanaged, having the need for that person to be involved in his business all the time. It was worse than when he’d lived at home and had to declare his comings and goings to his parents.

  What had possessed him to follow Nolan into the interview room after their brief encounter in the men’s room, he still wasn’t sure. The nerves radiating off Nolan in the bathroom were practically visible; he was not at all the type of person Zack wanted to have to deal with on a daily basis. He didn’t have time to coddle a new hire, nor did he think the poorly dressed, almost frail-looking man would necessarily be able to handle his moods.

  It was a horrible idea.

  He should probably tell HR to find Nolan another executive or team to work with and save them both a world of headaches.

  Yes, he’d do that when he got back.

  But first he needed to see Max.

  It would have made sense for him to take his car, given how far away Frantic was, but he needed to stretch his legs and taking transit worked for him. Him behind the wheel, feeling the way he was, wouldn’t end well.

  He hated days when his brain seemed out of sync with his body. Thoughts banging up against one another, too many projects vying for his attention, things he desperately wanted to make happen but had to stomp the brakes on because of process. Or the worst: having to be quiet when other people thought they knew better than he did. They usually didn’t. It wasn’t all arrogance that led him to that conclusion; it was years of being proven right time and time again. But he’d learned the hard way there were certain people you couldn’t tell what to do and how to do it.

  His boss being one of them.

  He’d have to go to the gym after work, if for no other reason than to bleed off enough excess energy that he could sleep later. Really, it would do him a world of good to hit something.

  It took him nearly forty minutes and two buses to get to Max’s bar. He didn’t need to check to see if Max would be there. It was nearly four, and his friend was always the one to open the club. The door was locked, so Zack pulled out his phone.

  Let me in.

  There was a minute-long pause before Max’s response popped up. Why are you here?

  To bug you. Let me in.

  Go back to work.

  Asshole.

  Zack had barely pressed Send when the door’s lock clicked and Max opened the door. “Why do you torture me?”

  “Because I’m your friend and business partner.”

  Max rolled his eyes and walked away. “Still an asshole.”

  Frantic was currently empty, but Zack knew that in a short time staff would start arriving and prep would be underway for Friday night’s inevitable crowd. “We need to talk about Ringside.”

  Max’s groan echoed in the empty dance area. “We need a drink, then.”

  “Beer?”

  “I’m not giving you anything good. That’s for paying customers.”

  “I pay.”

  “Not in the last five years you haven’t. Cheap prick.” Max pulled two bottles from beneath the bar and cracked the caps off before sliding one to Zack. “What’s going on with the gym?”

  “I was going to ask you. Any word on those investors of yours?” The beer was cold and slid easily down his throat as he took several long pulls. “I need some good news today.”

  Max grinned as he shook his head. “So impatient for a business guy.”

  “I’m used to things happening on my timetable, not some mysterious venture capitalist who I don’t even know is worth his word.”

  They’d been working on getting their childhood sanctuary up and running again far too long for Zack to not be impatient. Starting Frantic had been Max’s dream, one Zack had helped him with from square one; reopening Ringside Boxing was Zack’s, and he’d be damned if anything would stop him.

  Max downed his beer far too quickly and tossed the bottle in a recycling bin. “My investor said he was looking to find some new LGBTQ businesses to invest in around Toronto. He’s got connections, and Ringside has solid PR opportunities given what you’ve planned. The teen programs are also great advertising to have at schools. We’ll make this happen.”

  “We better.”

  Max frowned. “What the hell crawled up your ass and died? You’re more of a jerk than usual.”

  “Nothing.”

  “Bullshit. You look like you’re ready to run a marathon or take on crime or something.”

  Max had been his closest friend since they’d met at the original Ringside gym when they were both sixteen. If anyone could tell when Zack was on edge, it was Max. “I just don’t want anything to screw this up.”

  Along with their friend Eli, the three of them had spent the better part of their high school years as part of an LGBTQ teen-outreach program at Ringside. Max and Eli had used boxing as a way to develop their self-confidence and learn how to defend themselves. Zack had never lacked either of those skills, even at a young age. No, he’d used his workouts at Ringside as a way to funnel the buildup of emotions that constantly swirled inside him. Sparring in the ring had helped him learn how to direct that charge outward and stop himself from losing his shit on his parents, friends, and teachers.

  Russel Kinson, the previous owner of Ringside, had done so much for so many people over the years that a piece of Zack had broken when he’d died and the place shut down. How many more kids and troubled youth could have been helped in the intervening years? How many more like himself, Max, and Eli?

  Despite what everyone thought about him, working at Compass Technologies wasn’t his life’s goal. It was little more than a means to an end. Within the next year or two, he wanted to walk away from all things technology and
spend his days helping people the way Russel had helped him.

  Max started taking clean mugs from the wash tray and stacking them in the bar. “So what happened at work to get you all riled up? That boss of yours on the warpath again?”

  The image of a too skinny and pale Nolan flashed through his head. “I hired an assistant.”

  “Jesus. I thought you swore you wouldn’t do that to someone else again?”

  “It was an impulsive hire.”

  “Nooo. You’d never do anything like that.”

  Zack growled. “He’s different from the others, though I doubt that I’ll keep him. Better to have HR rehome him before I chew his head off.”

  “Whoa, back up. You hired a male assistant?” Max leaned over the bar and grinned. “Is he cute?”

  “He’s way too thin and not even remotely my type.” God, he couldn’t imagine anyone further away from the sort of man he was attracted to; Nolan lacked confidence, didn’t have that edge Zack looked for in a partner. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have sex with someone like that. He liked it rough, fucked the same way he fought both in the ring and in business. Nolan would no doubt be overwhelmed by everything Zack would want. Not that he was into any kinky shit, but he liked things hard and fast: fucking, not making love.

  Max clicked his tongue. “Huh.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. You’re just full of surprises.”

  Zack’s cell chose that moment to sound off. “Shit.”

  “What?”

  The notification tone he’d specifically assigned to Samantha Rollins told him who’d emailed without his having to look at the name. Problem with the Korean shipment of the network appliance. “I have to head back to the office.”

  “Something wrong?”

  “Nothing I can’t handle.” He was the best at putting out fires, a skill set Samantha had taken advantage of for the past three years. “But I won’t be stopping in tonight.”