Work For It: Chapter 37

I can’t sit comfortably, and I’ve just found a smudge of chocolate in my cleavage, even after two showers. If this is what Monday mornings after being positively railed by Daniel Santiago look like, then I’m here for it.

I feel simultaneously amazing and rougher than hell. Pussy? Destroyed. Heart? Never lighter. Brain? Torn up, twisted up, and absolutely stuck agonizing over how Daniel and I are going to make this work.

Though we talked after our first round of sex—before the main event of room service chocolate lava cake that was eaten off my body—we tiptoed around logistics and where we go from here.

All it took was one date to change everything. Because now? I can’t imagine my life without him in it.

Our situation hasn’t been casual for months, I know that, but yesterday reinforced it. But we have two problems. First, we’re coworkers, and our employer has a no-fraternization policy. And second, we don’t even live in the same city. Hell, we don’t even live in the same state. If we decide to make this official, Naiad policies be damned, we’ll have to do the long-distance thing until my lease is up at the end of the year. That’s a challenge in and of itself, but one I’d be willing to face if it meant being with Daniel.

For now, though, it’s hard enough just getting through the workday.

Daniel sits across from me. We’re both focused on our laptops, but it’s impossible not to sneak peeks at each other. It’s a miracle no one has noticed the way we stare at each other for a few seconds before going back to work. Thankfully, he’s only been out in the main office space for the past twenty minutes after spending hours in meetings and conference calls. I don’t think I could have kept it together had he been out here all morning, and I’m a little worried about what others might pick up on if we stay like this for much longer.

A reprieve comes when Jim pops his head out from one of the conference rooms and waves to me.

“Selene, can you do the Starbucks run? I’ll take my regular,” he shouts across the space.

“Only if I can take Daniel and force him to carry everything,” I call back, shooting for derision.

It gains a few snickers from the production girls sitting near me, who, so far, seem none the wiser to my little secret. I’d like to keep it that way, but I can’t pass up the opportunity to grab a moment alone with him.

“Oh, that’s a great idea,” Jim exclaims, clearly missing my sarcasm. “Daniel, do you mind helping Selene?”

Daniel sighs in a way that makes him sound perfectly annoyed, then shoves back his chair and stands. “Come on, then,” he says, shrugging into his jacket without looking at me. “I’ve got a call in twenty minutes.”

“Wow, what a gentleman,” Nikki mumbles beside me.

I shoot her a grin. “Aren’t we just so lucky to have him here?”

“I can hear you both, you know,” Daniel says, his eyes cool as he assesses us.

Nikki leans back in her chair and laces her fingers behind her head. “Yeah, that’s the point, buddy.”

Even though my antagonism toward him is feigned these days, Nikki’s definitely is not. I’ve done my best to avoid thinking about how my friends will react when they find out I’ve been hooking up with our nemesis. And that I’m—oh boy, here we go—falling in love with him. The thought makes me want to throw up a little.

To break the tension and clear my own anxiety, I pull out my phone and start taking orders. By the time I hit submit, Daniel is already halfway down the hall to the elevator.

Nikki rolls her eyes. “If you sock him in the jaw on the way, I won’t be mad if our drinks are a little late.”

I snicker and grab my jacket. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Daniel is holding the elevator doors open when I finally make my way around the corner. I slip in without a word and stand on the opposite side of the car, and the two of us stare straight ahead. But as soon as we start descending, Daniel crosses the small space and crowds me into the corner.

It doesn’t last for long, but it’s enough to leave me breathless and giggling. “Did you like my acting?” I rest my palms on his chest and bat my lashes at him. “I figured I should put on a show to make them think I still hate you.”

“I’ve seen better.”

I slap his hard pec. “Rude!”

He grins as he backs to his side of the elevator, preparing for the doors to open on the ground floor. “I appreciate your ability to get me alone, though. Very smooth.”

“I tried my best.” The doors slide open, and Daniel holds out a hand, motioning for me to step out first. “What have you been working on today?” I ask as we head outside and turn in the direction of the closest Starbucks. “You were tucked away in the back conference room for most of the morning.”

“I was negotiating the rights to Doing It for Daddy.”

I stifle a laugh. It doesn’t matter how many times we say these godforsaken titles like Swallow It All, Hot for My Ex-Husband’s Brother, or Sleeping with the Daddies Next Door—I will always find them horrifically awkward and hilarious.

“Do you think it’s weird how often we all say the word daddy?” I ask him. “Like, they need to start listing that in the job description. Must be able to say the word daddy with a sexual connotation without giggling and/or blushing.”

Daniel laughs. The sound warms me from the inside out. “They should,” he agrees. “I feel bad for any of our coworkers who call their fathers that.”

“Agreed. I’m lucky I never have.”

“What do you call him?”

“Baba,” I answer. “My family mostly speaks Arabic at home. And I’m guessing yours speaks Spanish, so no daddy for you either.”

He nods. “Never really had use for the word.”

“Not even sexually?” I press, trying not to sound too interested.

He shoots me a curious look. “Is that something you’re into?”

“You can’t answer a question with a question,” I teasingly scold.

“I don’t love it,” he says, conceding easily for once. “I’d rather hear my name.”

“Well, since you were honest, I’ll tell you it’s not really my cup of tea either.”

“Guess we’re a perfect match.”

My heart trips over itself in my chest. “Guess we are.” I clear my throat, trying to settle down again. “Okay, so daddy is off the table. What about—”

“Do not call me papi.”

I guffaw at his offense, the sound of it mixing with the soundtrack of the city streets. “Noted.”

Daniel holds the door open for me as we step into the crowded coffee shop. We stick close to each other, but we’re careful not to touch, even if my body aches to be pressed to his.

“I don’t think we can work in the office on the same days,” I murmur to him before I can think twice.

He cocks a brow. “Why not?”

“I’m worried I’ll give us away,” I admit a little sheepishly, wondering if he’ll call out my use of the word us. There is an us, but to what degree?

“How do you think you’d give us away?” he questions, so intent that it feels like an interrogation, but he doesn’t seem to mind the way I’ve phrased things.

I shake my head, embarrassed about being worried. “You know what? Never mind. I’m just being stupid.”

“Come on, Selene. Tell me.” Our hands brush, and without breaking eye contact, he hooks his pinkie around mine. “Are you afraid you’ll forget to say something mean about me? Touch my hand by accident and not be repulsed?”

I blow out a breath and look away, my face on fire. “I said never mind.”

“I think you’re right to be worried,” he goes on. “You haven’t been keeping up with your evil glares across the room.”

My eyes snap back to him. “I never glared at you!”

“Oh, yes, you did.”

“Okay, so maybe I did a time or two,” I admit. Because I really did loathe this man at one point.

Blessedly, our conversation is interrupted when a barista calls my name. Daniel once again gathers up the majority of the drinks, leaving me one measly tray, but I know better than to complain about the imbalance. To him, this is equity, and I can’t say I mind it.

We don’t speak again until we’re back on the street, weaving around lost tourists and businesspeople on lunch breaks.

“I wanted to touch you earlier when you were sitting across from me,” Daniel says. “I almost got up and wrapped my arms around you.”

He’s watching the sidewalk ahead, leaving me a chance to look him over uninterrupted. “You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”

“I don’t lie when it comes to how I feel about you.” When he looks down at me, his eyes are full of sincerity.

He’s in just as deep as I am, it seems.

“So…” There’s a question on the tip of my tongue, but I have to force myself to get it out. “What are we going to do? How are we supposed to be in the office together without giving ourselves away?”

“You’re only here twice a month,” he points out. “So we don’t have to worry about it too often. But no matter what, we’ll make it work.”

“How?” I question, worry roiling in my stomach. “If HR finds out about this before we’re ready to tell them, we could lose our jobs. Shit, even if we do tell them, there’s a chance we could still get fired.”

A hint of a frown touches his lips, and I swear I see a flash of hurt in his eyes. “Are you saying you don’t want to risk it?”

“No,” I blurt, then suck in a breath to compose myself. “Daniel, no. I want to be with you, okay?”

“Good. I want the same.”

I guess that’s that. We’re doing this. “So we…just keep hiding?”

He nods. “The best we can for as long as we can.”

I sigh. I don’t love it, but I suppose that’s the reality of our situation. “I guess that’s really all we can do.”

His shoulder brushes mine, a subtle move of comfort. It’s the most he’s allowed to offer me so close to the office. His dark eyes are soft when I meet them, and there’s a promise in their depths. “It will all work out, mi amor.”

It better. Because being with him no longer feels like a want. It’s a need.

Five minutes before the end of the workday, a notification pops up on my calendar.

It’s a reminder that I have a manuscript edit due tomorrow.

A manuscript edit I haven’t even started working on.

“Fuck!”

Down the table, Ella jumps in her seat, clutching a hand to her chest like she’s trying to keep her heart from running away. “You scared me,” she breathes out, eyes wide. “What’s wrong?”

I press my fingertips to my forehead and close my eyes. How the hell could I have forgotten about this? I usually stay on top of my deadlines. I keep them written down in a minimum of five places, but this one somehow slipped through the cracks. And now I have to edit a hundred thousand words by tomorrow morning. I’m royally screwed.

“I completely forgot about an editing project,” I mumble. “It goes to the proofreader tomorrow and goes live on the app on Friday. I have to get it done tonight.”

“Oh, babe,” she says sympathetically. She hops out of her chair and rushes over to hug me. “I’m so sorry. Do you want me to help you?”

I shake my head. Ella’s workload is just as intense as mine; she doesn’t need the extra burden of helping me out of a hole I dug for myself. “That’s okay, but thank you. I really appreciate it.”

She gives me a tight squeeze, then heads over to close and put away her laptop. “If you change your mind, just text me, okay?”

I nod, already distracted. There’s no way I won’t be pulling an all-nighter like I’m back in college.

Once Ella leaves, I hurriedly pack my things, knowing I need to get back to my hotel and buckle down. It’s going to be a half-assed edit, but at least it will get done. That’s all that matters.

I wave goodbye to the last of the stragglers in the office, including Daniel, who’s sitting in one of the small conference rooms. I’ll text him to tell him the situation, but there’s no way we’ll be able to see each other tonight; I can’t have anything, even him, hindering my concentration.

Of course, just as the elevator arrives, Daniel slips out of the conference room with his bag slung over his shoulder. “You heading out?” he asks.

“Yeah.” I step into the elevator and jam my finger into the button. Once the doors have closed and we’re alone, I spare him a glance. “I’m going to be busy tonight. Don’t worry about coming over.”

“You’ve got things to do that are more important than me?” he teases. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem offended by my brush-off.

I snort, but my anxiety is growing with every second that passes. “I have to edit an entire manuscript by tomorrow, one of the newer ones you acquired. I forgot all about it.”

Daniel squeezes my shoulder, his thumb digging into the knot that’s already forming at the base of my neck. “Want me to keep you company while you work?”

I blow out a breath and drop my chin. I hate to miss out on any time with him, but he’s the biggest distraction in my life. “I should probably be alone,” I murmur. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he says, massaging that spot until the elevator stops and he’s forced to let me go. “Do what you need to. When do you go home?”

“Tomorrow after work,” I tell him, disappointment sinking in my stomach. “I couldn’t get Jim to sign off on a longer visit. Naiad’s buckling down on travel stipends, apparently.”

“That’s okay,” he reassures as we step out and wave goodbye to Rolando behind the front desk. “Get the edit done. That’s most important.”

The thought of not spending my last night here with him makes me want to throw up, but my only response is, “Okay.”

I’m dying to at least kiss him goodbye, but we’re literally standing outside the office. Instead, I settle for a shaky smile, then I reluctantly turn away.

I love my job. But I’ve never hated it more.

It’s nine, and I’ve only completed about 20 percent of this edit. Thankfully, the manuscript is pretty clean. I have to break up the long chapters to make them more palatable for the Naiad reader, spice up the sexy bits a little, and expand a few scenes between the love interests, but it could be so much worse.

Still, I’m exhausted. Daniel stayed over until nearly three this morning, and I left for the office just after eight. This fuck-up couldn’t have come at a more terrible time.

I’m in the middle of rubbing my eyes to clear away the cobwebs when there’s a knock on the door. Sliding my laptop to the side, I frown. Minus hotel staff, there’s only one person it could be. My suspicions are confirmed when I look through the peephole.

“What are you doing here?” I ask Daniel after I pull open the door, somehow both surprised and not at his appearance.

He holds up a small bakery box. “I brought dessert.”

It’s a (literally) sweet gesture, but unless he’s here to drop it off and leave, I can’t entertain this. “Thank you. But I told you I didn’t have time for anything tonight.”

“Let me in, Selene.”

This is a bad idea, but I step back and allow him to come inside anyway.

“Put your laptop away,” he instructs, tipping his head to where it’s open on the rumpled bed.

I blow out an exasperated breath. “Daniel, I can’t—”

“You need a break,” he says firmly. “You worked an eight-hour day and now you’re doing overtime you don’t even get paid for.”

He’s right. My eyes hurt and I barely touched the dinner I ordered. And if I’m not careful, I’ll end up with a migraine that will take days to get rid of.

“Okay, but we can’t have sex,” I warn him as I close my laptop and put it on the bedside table. “I’m way too sore to even think about being touched. And if you make me come, I won’t be able to stay awake.”

He chuckles as he kicks off his shoes. “No sex,” he confirms, kneeling on the other side of the bed. “But I will be working on that knot in your shoulder and making sure you eat something.”

That sounds like heaven, but it won’t help me finish this manuscript. “Twenty minutes. That’s all I’ve got.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waves a hand. “Now come here. Get on your stomach.”

I bellyflop onto the mattress and rest my cheek on my forearms. When I’m settled, Daniel straddles my thighs and works his magic. His hands are warm and strong, and his thumbs dig into the tight muscles just right. God, that feels good. Enough to tempt me into closing my eyes and taking a moment to enjoy it. If he ever decides to give up his career in publishing, he’d make a great massage therapist. Or maybe I’ll keep him around to be my personal masseuse. Or maybe…

I wake with a start, confused and disoriented. A glance at the clock tells me I’ve been out for nearly two hours, nothing close to the twenty-minute break I insisted on. Fuck. I’m never going to make this deadline now.

Heart pounding, I push myself up and turn to the nightstand for my laptop. Except it isn’t there. In a panic, I scan the room…only to find Daniel stretched out next to me, leaning against the headboard with my computer resting on his lap.

I blink at him for a long moment. Am I dreaming? This feels pretty real, but who the hell knows anymore? “What are you doing?” I ask, my voice scratchy from sleep.

He doesn’t look over at me as he types. “Your edits.”

All I can do is gape at him. How the hell am I supposed to react to that? Maybe I am dreaming. I have to be. “You’re not a trained editor,” I weakly point out, still stunned.

“Neither are you, technically,” he counters.

I huff, but he’s right. Naiad hired me for my storytelling abilities, not because I know when to use lay or lie in a sentence (because I don’t).

“Go back to sleep,” he says, never taking his attention from the screen.

“I can’t. I have to finish this.” I motion for him to hand over my laptop, but he doesn’t budge. “Dan, please.”

“No. You’re exhausted.”

“I mean, yeah, I am,” I concede, throwing my hands up in exasperation. “But that doesn’t mean I can sleep right now.”

He curls a hand behind my neck and looks me in the eye. “Don’t let this job kill you, Selene. Let me help you.”

I study him for a moment, letting his words settle. There’s a fondness in my heart threatening to surge up and choke me. “You’re being so nice,” I whisper.

That brings a hint of a smile to his face. “I don’t want you having a stroke from stress. You’re too valuable to Naiad.”

“Naiad. Right.”

He raises a brow, questioning me, but I don’t pay any attention to it. Instead, I gently push my laptop out of his hands and onto the mattress beside him, then crawl into his lap, my knees on either side of his hips.

“Thank you,” I tell him as his arms encircle my waist. “But you shouldn’t have done this.”

He tilts his head back to look at me. “Why not?”

Because there’s no doubt that I’ve fallen for you now. “Because I’ll have to go back and check all of your work. So troublesome.”

“My work is always clean,” he says smoothly, raking a hand through my hair and pulling ever so slightly so my neck is exposed to him. His mouth is on my pulse a moment later, biting, then soothing. “I think you’ll be impressed.”

“I’m always impressed by you.” The words slip out, unbidden, and my face burns in embarrassment at my admission.

He pulls back and looks up at me, something in his eyes that I can’t read, brow dipping. I put my hands to his chest and push off, ready to put a little space between us and pretend I didn’t just give so much away. But Daniel moves faster than I can.

He pushes me onto my back, then slides between my hips and pins me to the bed. One hand is still in my hair, and he uses the other to support himself while he hovers above me.

“You mean that?” he asks, and I swear I hear a note of hesitance in his voice.

“Yeah,” I say softly. “I do.”

The second the words leave my mouth, his lips are on mine. I sigh and relax back into the pillowtop and drape my arms around his neck. We fit so perfectly together that it feels unreal, and I almost can’t believe there was ever a time when I wanted to fight him to the death.

“Okay, enough,” he murmurs when he pulls back. He gently releases me and moves to the other side of the bed to grab his bag from the floor. “Send me the second half of the manuscript. We’ll knock this out together.”

“Are you sure?” I ask, sitting up and smoothing down my shirt.

He pulls his own computer out of its sleeve and settles beside me. “Never been more so. We’re in this together.”

Yeah. That’s all it takes.

I’m 100 percent in love with Daniel Santiago.