The Best

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Parrish had been with the company for four months now, and he found himself enjoying it more and more, especially since he’d overcome that…crush for want of a better word.

He had gone through the Observer’s archives after discovering Mr. Burke was gay, and learned that every one of the men he’d dated really was as fair as he.

It was a good thing he’d stopped dreaming about his boss.

His door opened, and in walked the man himself.

“Good morning, Mr. Burke,” he said, as the boss strode through his office.

“My office now, Rutledge.” Mr. Burke didn’t ask for his executive assistant because she was on vacation.

“Yes, sir.” He’d never heard the boss so irritated. He made sure he had a notepad, pencils, and a cassette recorder and hurried after him.

Mr. Burke was standing by the wall of windows, staring out into the brilliance of the Charlotte morning sun. “I apologize for my testiness.”

“Not a problem, sir.” Parrish sat down and prepared to take notes.

“Mrs. Campbell won’t be in today.”

“No, sir. She’s on vacation.”

“Precisely.” He stared at Parrish broodingly.

Parrish swallowed and began to sweat. Had he done something wrong?

Mr. Burke turned away. “Has Mrs. Campbell told you about the arrangement I have with Cupid’s Bow-quets?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How does that strike you?”

“Me? Excuse me, Mr. Burke, it’s none of my business.”

“Very good. You’ve got your own life outside of Burke, Burke, and Hammett.”

“Yes, sir,” Parrish said again. He wasn’t about to tell this man who went to the opera, the races, and attended numerous cultural and charity affairs that his private life consisted of hitting the gym when he remembered, going to the supermarket, and sometimes visiting Browse the Aisles, the used book store he’d found a few blocks away in the Fourth Ward Historic District. As for clubbing, the last time he’d done that was when he was still in college and had a boyfriend he could go dancing with.

“I want three dozen red roses sent to this address.”

“Excuse me? Oh, yes.” Parrish took the slip of paper with the name and address of the guy who must be Mr. Burke’s newest lover.

Parrish refused to acknowledge the twinge in his chest, since it wasn’t his chest, it was his stomach. It was just that burrito he’d nuked for breakfast disagreeing with him. He must have eaten it too quickly.

“Did you need me for anything else, Mr. Burke?”

“No.”

“Then I’ll get right on this.” He tried to walk sedately from his boss’s office, although he wasn’t sure how successful that was, and breathed a sigh of relief when he was behind his own desk once again.

* * * *

Parrish pretty much bounced into work that Monday. He was so happy, he’d stopped at the local coffee shop and picked up two coffees. Mrs. Campbell returned from her vacation today, and he knew how she took her coffee.

When he’d gone to pick up his paycheck the previous Friday, Ms. Leite, who ran the temp agency, told him she was getting excellent feedback about him from Burke, Burke, and Hammett, which had resulted in a raise. He’d gone out the next night to celebrate at a club he’d heard about while he was at Browse the Aisles. After more than a year, he’d connected with someone, and they’d traded blowjobs.

The guy—he’d said his name was Lon—had taken Parrish’s phone and texted his own phone, obtaining Parrish’s number that way. Lon hadn’t called yet, but that was okay, there was plenty of time.

“You’re looking chipper.”

Parrish yelped and almost dropped the coffees he held. “Mr. Burke?” He set down his coffee and turned his wrist to look at his watch, afraid he might be late, but no, he was actually a little early. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

His boss grunted. “If you’ll step into my office?”

“I’ll just put Mrs. Campbell’s coffee on her desk—”

“She won’t be in.”

“Is she running late?”

“No.”

“Is she all right?” It was unusual for her to take additional time off.

“She’s fine. Well, as fine as a woman her age who’s carrying twins can be.” He stalked away, and Parrish hurried to follow him.

“She’s pregnant? That’s wonderful!”

Mr. Burke turned and scowled at him.

“Um…it isn’t wonderful?”

“No, of course it is. However, her obstetrician has ordered her to stay on bedrest for the remainder of her pregnancy. Which will be for the next six months.”

“She’s going on maternity leave?”

“As of now, yes. And once the babies are born, she’ll be out another six months.”

“She’ll be gone a year?” Who was going to—

“You’ll be replacing her.” Mr. Burke answered his unspoken question.

“Me, sir?” Working in close proximity with the boss? It was a damned good thing Parrish was dating someone—kind of—and had gotten over his infatuation with Mr. Burke.

Mr. Burke continued. “I’ve been watching you.”

He had? Parrish felt his face heat up, and he was grateful his complexion wouldn’t reveal a blush. Mr. Burke didn’t mean anything personal by his remark.

“You do good work. Felicia…Mrs. Campbell…thinks so, too. She concurs that you’ll be a good replacement.”

There, you see? he told himself. It’s all about business. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate your confidence in me. I’ll make sure to notify the temp agency—”

“Do that. Mrs. Campbell would have, but she only discovered the situation on Friday afternoon and notified me over the weekend. You’ll be employed directly by Burke, Burke, and Hammett from now on.”

“And when Mrs. Campbell returns?”

“I’m keeping her position open, of course. She’s been my assistant since before my father…retired, and she’s a gem. However, she isn’t certain if she’ll be returning.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I enjoyed working with her. However, I promise I’ll do my very best for you.”

“I’m sure you will.”

“Oh.” He glanced at the second cup, then gazed up at his boss. “Would you want this coffee? It’s a Cafe Americano with two extra shots of espresso, breva with half and half.”

“That’s how Mrs. Campbell takes it.”

“Yes.” He couldn’t help smiling at Mr. Burke. “I had a very good weekend myself, you see, and I wanted to share it.”

“In that case, I’ll accept it on her behalf, with thanks. How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing, sir. I told you I’m celebrating.”

“Thank you again.” He took a sip and nodded in satisfaction. “The next time you celebrate, I hope you’ll bring another coffee.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Only make that one a venti latte with almond milk, three extra shots of espresso, three pumps caramel syrup, four pumps caramel sauce, two pumps toffee, extra hot.”

Parrish took out his phone and made a note of it. “Got it.”

“All right.” He tilted his head. “What did you have to celebrate?”

Parrish didn’t think it would be a good idea to mention Lon and the blowjob, so he simply said, “I got a raise from the temp agency.”

“Really? Make sure you inform payroll and see they match it.”

“Thank you. Is there anything else?”

Mr. Burke shook his head.

“I’ll get to work, then.” Parrish hurried back to his desk to make those phone calls. By the end of the day, he was a full-fledged permanent employee of Burke, Burke, and Hammett. And he didn’t think even once that put him totally out of the running for a spot in his boss’s bed.

Not once.

* * * *

Working with Mr. Burke was an amazing experience, and Parrish relished every moment of it.

For instance, Mr. Burke hadn’t said a word when Parrish arrived at work with a black eye and a butterfly bandage on his cheekbone. He’d simply raised an eyebrow.

“I went over a wall at the Warrior Dash a little too enthusiastically,” he hurried to explain. He’d gotten involved because the company was one of the sponsors of the local 5k “run from hell,” which included jumping over fire and crawling under barbed wire through mud, in addition to the wall climbing. Lon had gone with him, but he’d left with someone from another team.

“In that case, I’m glad it wasn’t worse.” He’d continued staring at Parrish’s face, then smiled faintly, shook his head, and said, “Now, about the Vinton account.”

“Yes, sir.” He’d tried to smile back, but the cut on his cheekbone pulled, so he had to settle for a simple, “I’ll get those files.”

* * * *

One of the perks of the job was the periodic bonuses he received, although frankly he could have lived without them. He was smart enough to recognize they coincided with Mr. Burke telling him to contact Cupid’s Bow-quets and order the three dozen white roses tipped in gold. And in the past three months, it seemed to be happening all too frequently.

On this particular day, Parrish looked up when the door to his office opened. Mr. Burke stood there, leaning against the doorframe. “Good morning, sir. I hope you had a good weekend?” Parrish had been instructed to see his boss had tickets for a charity event at a local art gallery.

Mr. Burke grimaced. “The art was excellent—I bid on a few items that stuck my interest—and the food they offered was good.”

Parrish could almost hear the “but.” He waited.

Sure enough, Mr. Burke sighed. “I found Jason in a stairwell making out with the artist’s model.”

Parrish had seen pictures of the model in the Charlotte Gazette, and she was breathtaking.

“I’m so sorry, sir. I’ll get right on the phone with Cupid’s Bow-quets.”

“Thank you.” Mr. Burke pushed off from the doorframe and left.

Parrish shook his head. How sad was it his boss just couldn’t seem to find someone who made him happy. This made the third—boyfriend? Companion?—in as many months. He’d met Jason Wilby a couple of times, and he would have thought the man—another blond—seemed to be fascinated by Ransom Burke. What had happened that caused him to break the one condition his lover insisted on, and with a woman?

Oh, well, not his business. Parrish reached for his phone. He had the florist on speed dial. He had to admit to a tiny feeling of relief. Mr. Burke was a good man who deserved better than Jason Wilby.

He refused to admit to the niggling feeling he’d have treated his boss so much better.