Connor (Boys & Toys Season 2 1)

I shake my head. “Nope,” I mumble into my hands. “Not even a lunch break. The most we do is drink coffee. In fact, I’m the designated gofer coffee bitch,” I explain, borrowing a term of endearment supplied to me by one of the downstairs interns.

“So … you get his coffee?”

“Yep.”

Lex pulls my face out of my hands and gives me an important look. “Then the solution’s simple. Drop a pill in his cup. Nothing teaches a lesson like making your enemy shit his brains out at work.” He kisses his fingers, in love with his evil scheme.

I gawk at him in horror. “I’d never …!”

“Oh, oh, oh! I’ve got an even better idea! Yes!” Lex grabs hold of my shoulders, his eyes alight. “I have a pill. An even better pill. And you’re going to put it in his coffee. I had a personal issue last year, it’s … it’s totally resolved itself, but uh … I thought I had a bit of erectile you-know-what-unction.”

I blink, not following.

“A boner pill,” he whispers. “Viagra.”

“No,” I state at once. “I’m not.”

“I’ve … Okay, fine, my problem isn’t resolved. I thought of it because I have one in my pocket. Right now. Left pocket. For tonight. In case one of Brett’s leftover-boys who looks like Dante in any way, shape, or form needs a desperation fuck.”

“Lex!”

“It’s yours.” He fishes it out and, with an insistent grasp of my hand, slaps the tiny pill on my palm and closes my fingers. “Boner pill. Right into his cup. Right into his tasty, innocent coffee. Does he take it black? I bet he takes it black with one single, pretentious shot of espresso, that fucker. I despise him already, and Connor, we’re gonna get him back together. Family, remember?”

“I can’t. Lex, I can’t. Seriously, I—”

“Do this for me and for all the poor, sad, and literally poor guys that your jack wagon intern has ever treated badly in his lifetime. All of us want you to do it. All of us need you to do it.”

“Lex …”

“Just let me be the devil on your shoulder. Do it for us, Connor, baby, booby.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Alan enter my room. With a glance, he notices us on the fire escape, then gives me the cutest smile before sitting on the edge of my bed, patiently waiting.

My heart sings a song just looking at him.

“He could ruin my career if he found out it was me,” I whisper. “This is a very bad idea, Lex.”

“Yeah, well, maybe he was planning to do that anyway,” Lex points out with a smirk, then nudges me. “Sometimes, two wrongs do make a right.”

17

My heart pounds.

Each time I swallow, my throat feels tighter.

I can’t stop bouncing my foot on the floor.

I’m honestly not sure I can go through with this.

“Your headlines are fine,” Brenda states as she thumbs through her tablet, inspecting our work. “I guess this layout will do. This one, too. Hmm. Nice work, Dave, but you’re thirty-three words over the max word count.”

I lay my hands on my thighs to wipe them of their sweat—and my palm grazes the tiny bump in my right pocket, reminding me of the evil scheme.

This doesn’t feel right. I shouldn’t do it.

“Connor, again with your adjectives.” She sighs as she lifts her chin to me. “Really, how will you be trusted to manage a team of content creators if you can’t cut out these flowery words of yours?”

“You may call them flowery,” mutters Jay, stiff-necked and smirking, “but to me, they’re more like weeds. Perhaps Connor thought he was applying for a position at Wales Weedly.”

I suppress a roll of my eyes and ignore him outright. “Sorry, Brenda. I will be more cognizant.”

“Cognizant,” mocks Jay under his breath, very much not suppressing a roll of his eyes.

My jaw tightens.

Perhaps my task won’t be so guilt-ridden after all.

An hour later leaves us to our own devices to finish up our writing projects. And right on cue, Jay makes a demonstrative performance of stretching, yawning, and then declaring, “I do think it’s time for a coffee run. Are we in need of a little boost?”

“I sure am,” states Dave like an eager puppy, sitting right next to him like a mini-Jay. Then he looks at me, completely foregoing the whole game of figuring out who’s going to do the coffee run. Spoiler alert: it’s always me. “Can you get me a mocha latté with a shot of espresso, please?”

Well, at least he said “please”. I rise from my chair and smile patiently at them. “Sure. You want the usual, Jay?” I ask him before he has the chance to order me, which startles him. “Black with a shot of espresso?”

Jay studies me for a while.

In fact, he studies me for way too long a while, causing my heart to jump. He knows something’s up.