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“Oof,” Camilla said from the cubicle to his left. “I’ve never seen the boss here. Do you think there’s trouble?”

Nate shrugged and fixed his gaze on his computer.

He didn’t look up when Raffaele emerged out of the office, deep in conversation with Jordan, but he followed them with his eyes as soon as they passed his cubicle.

His stomach twisted unpleasantly when he saw Jordan’s blond head so close to Raffaele’s dark one. He was being stupid. Yes, Jordan Gates was handsome, but that didn’t mean that Raffaele wanted to fuck him. He was straight.

Right, his inner voice said snidely. Do you think you were that special? If he fucked you, he might want to fuck Jordan, too. You look kind of alike.

Nate pressed his lips together, hating the direction of his thoughts, but he couldn’t stop them. Jordan’s height and build really were similar to his. His hair was slightly darker, closer to dirty blond. His eyes were blue, too, but they were nothing like his own: so pale they seemed colorless and emotionless. Jordan was objectively very handsome, but he wasn’t the type to smile much. To be honest, the guy kind of intimidated Nate. He didn’t find him attractive at all. It didn’t mean that Raffaele wouldn’t, though.

His mood souring, Nate shifted his gaze back to his computer. “It’s none of my business,” he muttered under his breath.

“What?” Camilla said.

“Nothing.”

***

Raffaele came back two days later.

And then the next day, too.

The whole department was buzzing, nervous that something was up.

“Maybe there are layoffs coming up,” Toby said after Raffaele left.

Everyone glared at him, but from the expressions on people’s faces they were afraid of the same thing.

“It’s not that,” Nate said, shaking his head. “He never gets personally involved in layoffs.”

“God, I forget that you were his PA,” Susan said with a chuckle. “Can’t you ask him what’s up?”

“Yeah,” Toby said, looking at Nate curiously. “He always stops at your desk. What do you talk about?”

“Nothing,” Nate said.

“Oh, come on!”

“He’s telling the truth,” Camilla chimed in. “They make some small talk and then he leaves. It’s super boring.”

Nate pulled a face. She was right though. On the three occasions Raffaele had come to their department, all they exchanged were a few stilted words between long silences. It was the definition of awkward.

The worst part was, Nate fucking lived for those few minutes. He hated the way his heart tried to beat out of his chest when Raffaele looked at him, the way his stomach seemed to be full of butterflies, and his face was too warm and everything was too much. The moment Raffaele left, he felt almost nauseated from the crash of adrenaline and disappointment.

He’d never felt this way, not even when he had been a teenager.

Nate had no idea what to do. The feelings he’d been trying to suppress so hard when they had been fucking seemed to become a thousand times worse now that he couldn’t even touch Raffaele’s hand. He felt like there was a hole inside him, yearning. Thirsty. He felt like an addict who could see his fix but wasn’t allowed to have it. It got to the point that he couldn’t string two thoughts together after he saw Raffaele and was only capable of monosyllabic answers for the rest of the day, too distracted and keyed up.

It couldn’t keep going that way; Nate knew it. It didn’t help that with Raffaele’s every visit to Jordan, Nate’s suspicions about the nature of those visits grew into something ugly and sickening. He wasn’t usually one to hate anyone for no reason, but he couldn’t stand the sight of his boss now. He hated Jordan’s immaculate suits, handsome face and confidence. He hated his nicely shaped lips and pale eyes that betrayed nothing, no matter how hard Nate looked at him after Raffaele’s visits.

“Nate, my office,” came Jordan’s voice over the intercom.

Speak of the devil.

“What does he want?” Camilla said.

Shrugging, Nate got up and strode toward Jordan’s office. He pushed the door open.

“You wanted to see me?” he said, keeping his voice carefully neutral. Hopefully it wasn’t obvious that he couldn’t stand the guy.

Jordan regarded him for a long moment before before saying, “Make Ferrara stop coming here.”

“What?”

“You heard me. His presence disrupts everyone’s work, including mine.”

“What does it have to do with me?” Nate said with a chuckle.

“Don’t insult my intelligence. He’s never paid so much attention to my department—until he transferred you here.”

“I really don’t understand what you’re implying,” Nate managed, his heart beating faster and his palms growing sweaty.

The look Jordan fixed him with was distinctly unimpressed. “I don’t give a fuck if you sucked his cock to get this job,” he said flatly. “You’re capable of your job and you get things done—that’s the part I care about. But I don’t want Ferrara’s extra scrutiny on us. Everyone is saying that there must be something wrong with my department if the boss is paying so much attention to it. Get him off my back.”


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