Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Footsteps sounded from the hallway, heels echoing against the hardwood floor. Only one person was ever in my residence when I wasn’t there, so I already knew it was Cleo, the woman who had become my personal assistant and home manager.
She had a feminine voice that always had the subtle ring of authority. “Deacon, I’m sorry about the late delivery. There was a mix-up at the dry cleaners, and the groceries took longer than usual.”
I didn’t care about any of that.
She came into the dining room and looked at me, waiting for a response.
I lifted my gaze and stared at her, unsure what to say. She always looked at me like that, as if she’d asked me a question I didn’t hear.
She was in a tight pencil skirt, dark blue, with a white collared dress shirt on top. She had a petite frame, a very slim waistline, and her long brown hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail, showing her slender neck and her sharp cheekbones. She was young to be handling clients like me and the other residents in the building, but she made up for her youth with her confidence. She held her own with me, was direct, so it was easy for me to understand what she wanted.
I pulled out the rest of my papers and set them on the table.
“Is there anything else I can do for you?” she asked, continuing to stand there, her hourglass frame highlighted in the tightness of her clothing. She didn’t wear a lot of makeup, just a little bit of mascara and some lipstick.
I had some mail that needed to be delivered. “Yes.” I glanced down the hallway. “There’re some packages on my desk that need to be sent out.”
“Got it.” She walked down the hallway to gather everything.
Tucker walked close to me. “You going to introduce me or what?”
“Why?” I asked bluntly.
His eyes narrowed.
Cleo returned with a couple envelopes that were already addressed. “These three, right?”
I looked at her arms. “Yes.”
Tucker stepped into her path. “I’m Deacon’s brother, Tucker.” He extended his hand.
“Oh, it’s lovely to meet you.” She set down the envelopes then walked up to my brother, giving him a firm handshake. “I’m Cleo. I’m your brother’s assistant and concierge.”
“Pleasure to meet you. And in case you haven’t noticed, that’s just how he is. Don’t take it personally.”
She smiled as she dropped her hand. “I know Deacon is just a brilliant man who operates on a different wavelength that no one understands. And that’s not a problem for me.”
I turned to her, my eyebrow slightly raised when I heard what she said, how she realized I was different without someone needing to explain that to her. I’d always been misunderstood, but she seemed to understand me.
Tucker slid his hands into his pockets. “You’re one of the few.”
Cleo grabbed the envelopes off the table and carried them to the door. “Text me if you need anything. Have a good day.”
“Bye, Cleo.” My brother waved.
I watched her go before I took a seat at the table.
When the door shut, Tucker moved into the kitchen and helped himself to a beer before he returned, placing one in front of me. “Damn, she’s hot.” He pulled out a chair and took a seat, his back to the window.
I twisted off the cap and took a drink.
“What’s her story?”
I stared at him.
“Is she married? Got a boyfriend?”
“Why would I know that?”
“You never ask her anything personal?”
I didn’t ask her anything at all.
“She’s so fine. She had the perfect body, the perfect face…”
I drank from my beer again.
“You don’t think she’s hot?”
“She works for me.” There were basic rules, not to shit where you eat. I never got involved with any women who worked for me at the lab, and I knew the same rules applied here.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Yes…she’s beautiful.” I’d noticed it the first time I met her, when she greeted me in the entryway and escorted me to my residence. But I forgot about it the second after I noticed. I noticed it again when she witnessed my breakdown. Before I knew what I was saying, I’d poured my heart out to her, let her see my angry tears, and I realized she was the first person I’d told about my struggles.
“Set me up.”
“What?” I asked, surprised by the request.
“Come on. Put in a good word for me.”
“I’m not setting you up with Cleo.”
“Why? You got a thing for her?”
“No. But she works for me.”
“Yeah, you,” he said. “Not me.”
I drank from my beer.
“Dude.”
“You don’t even know her.”
“And I’d like to get to know her—”
“You’re just going to fuck her and never call her again.”
His eyes narrowed. “And what’s the problem with that?”
“Just drop it, alright?” My temper started to flare. “I don’t want it to be weird between you two.”