“Morning, Mr. Hamilton,” Ronnie said as he merged into traffic.
“Morning.” He opened his papers and started to read.
I raised an eyebrow, feeling the bad energy in the car. “Morning.”
“Morning.” He still didn’t look at me.
We took three steps forward, but then two steps back. No progress had been made. I was immediately irritated by his behavior, but I tried to remember it was unrealistic to expect him to change overnight.
But he did change overnight.
“Everything alright?”
He stilled at the question, his hands holding his work. But he kept his face down, having the conversation with paper instead of me. “Just didn’t sleep well last night.”
I decided to let it go and hope he was in a better mood later.
His office wasn’t enormous, but it was bigger than average, so it took me a long time to work on it. I’d saved his desk for last because I knew it would be the biggest part of the project. There were probably disorganized papers in every single drawer—and I’d have to go through it all.
I stood in front of the desk and read one of his papers, unable to decipher any of it because it might as well be Hebrew. I felt someone staring at me, so I lifted my gaze to see where the sensation was coming from.
Derek stood there with his arms crossed over his chest, his body facing me while a piece of machine thing hung from the crane. One elbow was propped on his arm while his closed knuckles rested near his lips. Instead of looking at the apparatus he was working on, he was looking at me.
The look lingered for a moment before he got back to work.
I also got back to work and let the guys in to deliver the filing cabinets and the safe. Just like he had at home, he should have something here—and something fireproof. I had everything bolted to the floor and hidden behind his desk, so it wasn’t visible from the sitting area. He had tall bookshelves behind his desk, containing textbooks full of dust, like he hardly ever used most of them. The wood also looked old, like when he’d brought it here, he’d picked it up from a yard sale or something. His desk was the same way.
When he’d started this company, he was probably broke, and he also didn’t care about nice things. So, he just grabbed whatever he could and didn’t think about it again. Well, now he was stupid rich, so he should have a more presentable office. I’d picked out a few things from a catalogue and made the measurements. I wasn’t designer material, but based on his personality, I knew the kind of things he would like.
Or maybe he hated it, but he didn’t care enough to say anything. As long as it worked, he didn’t care.
Once everything was ordered, the delivery date gave me a deadline. A deadline of when I’d have to clean out his desk and organize everything so it could be removed before the new one came in.
How was someone so brilliant so all over the place like this?
When I looked at the clock, I realized I needed to get them lunch. It was an early day since he had to take off to his lecture soon. I headed into the lab and watched the three men work on a long part that stretched across the entire table.
I never had a clue what they were doing.
I walked up to Derek. “Any special requests for lunch?”
He kept his head down and didn’t look at me. He would only acknowledge my existence from across the room, but when it came to face-to-face interactions, he refused to look me in the eye. “No. Anything you get is fine.”
“Then we can have pizza?” Pierre asked. “Since Derek doesn’t care about anything.”
I turned back to Derek.
Derek shrugged and kept working. “Fine with me.” His hands were covered in dark stains that moved up his wrists. It was sexy, to see him get his hands dirty like that, like a mechanic working on a classic car.
“Be back soon.”
When I returned, I set the pizza boxes on the counter with plates, and I also opened the container of salad I’d brought, so they would eat something green instead of just cheese and grease.
I turned back to the office with my own lunch, a salad with a few pieces of bread. I sat on the couch with my legs crossed, eating in silence with my phone in my other hand.
The door opened, and instead of Derek appearing, it was Pierre. He was a thin man, someone who didn’t take the time to eat or work out, and he had a thick pair of glasses on his nose. “Hey, I really like what you did with the bathroom.”
God, that was the worst thing I’d had to do. It was a nightmare. I had the cleaning crew come out and clean it because they had never done it before—in years. And then I replaced the sink and added a few things. “Thanks.”