Touch Me, Daddy

2 - Stefan.

I can't believe it.

I refuse to believe it.

It's been way past fifteen minutes since the door clicked shut behind my assistant, and I'm still staring at the handle with dry eyes. Waiting for it to jiggle. Waiting for Sadie to burst back in here and declare this is all a terrible joke—that this is the long-awaited sequel to the April Fool's Day cream tart made of shaving cream that she left on my desk last year. Yet another example of her god-awful sense of humor.

The clock ticks on the wall.

Swallowing hard, I wait.

But... nothing. The door handle is still, and there are no sounds from the next room. No muffled giggles as Sadie relays her prank on the phone, and no creak of floorboards as she eavesdrops outside the door.

Nothing. She's just... gone.

She dropped that bombshell, blew my goddamn life apart, then just... left.

Jesus Christ. Has she really found another job? Is that true?

Gusting out a ragged breath, I lurch to my feet and out from behind my desk, then pace back and forth in front of the windows, wracking my brain to make sense of this. Trying to sort through the wreckage.

Back and forth, I march. Back and forth.

Sunshine sparkles through the windows, warming the air, and my office smells like rug-cleaner and fresh paper. This room is more familiar to me than any other in the world, and yet everything now seems off-kilter. Wrong.

Were the walls always that eggshell color?

Is that really my desk?

And my trusted assistant didn't really just quit... did she?

Because it doesn't add up. I pay Sadie stacks more than any other assistant in the city, and her benefits package is even better than mine. She gets everything, damn it, every possible perk that money can buy, and that's still not enough?

Growling, I rake both hands through my hair and tug. My headache squeezes my skull, and unease roils in my belly.

Because I know Sadie likes her work, and she loves her colleagues. She's always babbling on about them, telling me stories about this accountant who had a baby, that designer who's getting married, the janitor who's learning to knit. Every tedious detail. Sadie loves Rodriguez Enterprises.

She knows my employees better than I do. She wouldn't leave them without good reason.

There's something I'm not seeing here. Something must have chased her away. But what?

Striding to my desk, I snatch the phone from its cradle—and freeze. Because this is where habit tells me to bark at my assistant, yelling at her to get in here and fix the problem. This is where Sadie bounces in with her swishy blonde ponytail and her big doe eyes, practically fizzing with excitement at being given a task.

Christ, it's like she was raised by golden retrievers. No one can be that perky—it's not natural. And yet... she is.

But perky or not, this isn't something Sadie can fix for me. Sadie is the damn problem.

She can't leave me.

This cannot happen.

When I throw myself back into my desk chair, it's because my legs won't hold my weight any longer. My muscles have stopped working, and my chest is icing over from the inside, and god, what is happening to me? What the hell is this nightmare? Why do my insides feel all wrong?

I'll double her pay.

Triple it.

I'll—Sadie can have this office, and I'll take her desk out there. Anything if it means keeping her close. My hand shakes as I press the intercom button, summoning her back, but there's no response. No creaking floor out there, no crackle of her sweet voice down the phone. She's not there.

I bury my face in my shaking hands.

Of all the blows I could weather, of all the losses I could take, this is not one of them.

This. Cannot. Happen.

----------------

Unable to concentrate, I pick up my phone and dial the only person I know who can make sense of this situation. My best friend, Chris, pick up on the fourth ring. He sighs. "Now, what has Sadie done again this time?"

I pause, swallowing a lump. When I speak, my voice is hoarse like I've been crying for hours. "Sadie's leaving, Chris. She handed in her resignation letter a few minutes ago."

"Good."

Blood rushes to my ears, and my face flames up in anger. "Good?" I growl. "What do you mean by that?"

"Don't even use that tone on me, Stefan. This is your fault. The girl is finally ditching your grumpy ass like she should have done months ago."

"I can't believe you're saying this."

"What did you expect? That she'd keep tolerating your bullshit? How many assistants have you had, Stefan? Sadie has been with you for three years, which is the longest time any assistant has ever worked for you. She's always working her ass off, trying to keep you satisfied, but her best has never been enough. Now she wants to leave, you intend keeping her back? For what? Are you that much of a sadist?"

"Sadie is mine, Chris," I say slowly, but firmly. "She can't leave. She can't."

Chris stays quiet for a few minutes. "Why did you call me, Stefan? Because this really can't be it. If you want Sadie to stay, then you already know what to do. This conversation is unnecessary."

"Come on now, man. Help me out here."

"You know what to do. Hit me up if you've got something more serious to discuss."

He hangs up, leaving me even more confused.

----------------------

There are three important meetings scheduled for today, and I cancel all of them. I'd cancel the party too if Sadie hadn't worked so hard on it for months, but I won't do that to her. Besides, it will only hurt my cause.

There's a private bathroom attached to my office, and I lock myself in there for the next hour, drowning myself under a long, hot shower. The steam fills my straining lungs and the heat soothes my taut muscles, but nothing seems to touch the ice spreading through my chest. It's a lost cause. I'm a lost cause.

I towel dry, thinking of Sadie.

Get dressed, thinking of Sadie.

Push back my damp hair and stare dead-eyed at the foggy mirror, searching for something, anything, that might tempt a woman like her to stay.

Stay—as my assistant, obviously. Nothing more. I won't kid myself that a pure ray of sunshine like Sadie would ever want... that... from a moody asshole like me.

Because what do I even have to offer her? Muscles and money and a special signed agreement with HR? That won't work. Sadie is a commitment type of girl. A relationship girl, and that is something I am ill-equipped for.

Doesn't matter. I'm getting off topic.

By the time I emerge in a cloud of soap-scented steam, Sadie's muffled voice floats through my office door once again. My numb legs carry me across the room, through the doorway to the antechamber and over to her desk, where I stand and loom over her, arms folded. My icy heart slams against my ribs.

"One second," Sadie says, covering the mouthpiece of her phone. She peers up at me, eyebrows pinching together. "Hey, boss. Is your hair wet?"

Yes. So?

I needed a scalding hot shower to reanimate my corpse. It happens.

"We're going out this afternoon." Away from these weird eggshell walls, closing in on me. Away from the empty, pointless future looming ahead, barren of all joy and flapjack crumbs. "Wrap up whatever you need to finish here."

Sadie gapes. "But the party—"

"We'll get there in time for the set up. What's your address? Get someone to deliver your dress and whatever else you need to my apartment. You can get ready there."

"But I—"

"This is time sensitive, Sadie." Her notice period is two weeks, after all. Only two weeks. And in the meantime, I can't let her out of my sight—not if I want to be able to breathe. "If you want a good reference from me, I still expect your best work while you're here. That includes this afternoon."

An angry flush creeps up my assistant's throat, but she forces a smile onto her face. How many times has she done that for me before? Pretended everything is fine? s**t. Why didn't I pay attention? If I'd known she was unhappy, I could have fixed this mess long ago.

A tiny voice echoes down the phone, and Sadie jumps. "I'll be ready," she tells me, then turns back to her phone call. "Oh, I know! Aren't suppliers the worst?"

That's my cue to leave her be, to let her wrap up in her own time, but I don't move an inch. Don't think I can willingly leave Sadie's side until she agrees to stay. My body won't allow it.

When it's clear I'm not leaving, Sadie rolls her eyes and wraps up the call. The phone clicks back into its cradle, then she sighs up at me. Shrugs.

"I'm done here. Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise."

To both of us. Haven't thought that far ahead yet.

All I know is I need Sadie by my side to feel okay.