Also, Nate was half-convinced Ferrara was lying about the condom size. Surely there had to be justice in the world and Ferrara’s dick was actually tiny? It just wasn’t fair if in addition to his wealth, social status, and looks, Ferrara also had a big dick. But then again, Nate was starting to realize there wasn’t justice in the world where his boss was concerned.
Ferrara gave him a steady look. “If you don’t believe me, I can make sure you’re there next time I use them.”
Um.
What?
“That—that won’t be necessary,” Nate managed at last, blinking. “I believe you—I’m already going!”
There was a barely noticeable change in Ferrara’s expression, a cruel, speculative gleam in his eyes. It honestly scared the shit out of Nate. That look spelled trouble. It usually appeared before Ferrara managed to come up with a new way to make his life hell.
Whatever Ferrara was going to say was interrupted by a phone ringtone.
His boss answered.
Nate exhaled and started turning away when the conversation made him pause.
“I understand, but it doesn’t mean I like your decision,” Ferrara said, his voice slightly different from his usual flat tone.
Nate frowned and turned back.
“I get it,” Ferrara said, sighing. “Family is important.”
Nate shot him a half-bewildered, half-frustrated look. He preferred thinking of Ferrara as a heartless dickhead, but there were moments like this, when his actions and words didn’t quite fit that image.
Ferrara’s face hardened, a deep wrinkle appearing between his brows. “No,” he said, glancing at Nate. “It’s not negotiable. He can manage without someone holding his hand.”
The caller’s response eased some of the tension in Ferrara’s face.
“All right, keep me updated,” he said before hanging up and pinching the bridge of his nose.
“What’s up?” Nate said, unable to suppress his curiosity.
He expected Ferrara to rebuke him and tell him that it was none of his business, but unexpectedly, he got an actual answer.
“Ian is going to retake his responsibilities as CEO,” Ferrara said without looking at him, still radiating annoyance.
Oh.
Nate couldn’t say he knew Ian Caldwell well. When he’d started working for Ferrara, the CEO of the Caldwell Group had been in a coma after a car crash. Although he’d recovered since then, the man still allowed Ferrara to keep running the company, though it had been rumored for a while that Caldwell was due to return to work soon.
But Ferrara didn’t look all that happy, which was weird, considering that he and Caldwell seemed to be pretty good friends—as much as two ruthless business sharks could be friends.
“You don’t look happy,” Nate noted.
Ferrara’s lips thinned. “His return to work will basically be in name only. Ian decided he’d take some time off work for his son. The kid has… issues and needs his father.”
Nate frowned, not understanding. “Then what’s the problem if nothing is changing for you?”
“Ian intends to reinstate Andrew Reyes as the vice president of Rutledge Enterprises. I will only be responsible for the Caldwell Group starting from March.”
“And that’s a problem why exactly? I know you don’t actually enjoy running Rutledge Enterprises. You always look bored out of your mind during the meetings there.”
Ferrara shot him a hard look but didn’t actually deny it. Nate hid a smile. He was pretty damn proud of how good he’d gotten at reading his horrible boss—he could tell that Ferrara enjoyed running the Caldwell Group more.
“You told Caldwell that something was non-negotiable,” Nate said, curious. “What was that about?”
A flicker of annoyance flashed across Ferrara’s face. “Nothing.”
“You were looking at me when you said that,” Nate said, not buying it at all. “Come on, tell me.”
Ferrara stared him down.
Any sane person would have backed down.
Clearly Nate wasn’t a sane person. Stubbornly, he glared right back.
To his surprise, Ferrara gave in. He gave in. “Ian wanted me to give my assistant to Reyes, to help him acclimate to the job after a year of absence—and to make sure the guy doesn’t mess up. Reyes was a total wreck until very recently.”
Nate blinked. Wait, what? “You refused to give me to Reyes?”
“Not because you’re a good PA,” Ferrara said, sneering. “You’re barely adequate even when you’re not being disrespectful. But I refuse to give my people to that trainwreck. He’ll manage.”
Nate stared at him, unsure how to feel about it. He actually liked Andrew Reyes—he seemed like a good guy, exponentially nicer than Ferrara. He definitely wouldn’t mind working for him. But on the other hand, it would feel like he had suffered for nothing all these months if he switched to another job now. There were just two months to go until he won the bet. Not to mention that he had no intention of making a career as a PA. He was a game designer, and a pretty damn good one. He was a PA now because he was Ferrara’s. He had a point to make. A bet to win. A dickhead to take down a peg or two.