My week at work has been bloody fantastic. I never said that about my work at Havre and Bell. I haven’t had a job I’ve enjoyed this much since I was a teenager working at the garage my dad still works for.

It’s Wednesday, and everything has been amazing here. I’ve hired three other people including a receptionist for my department—with Paige’s permission, of course. When she said each race crew would have their own department in the office building, I thought it meant they would each have their own accountant. Little did I know they all would work under me while managing their own accounts. I handle the big one, though. The main one the twins also control.

I’ve had a revolving door of people coming in and out to ask questions or, in Parker’s case, to lounge and bother me with random shit. I will admit he is actually pretty entertaining. When I’m not knee-deep in work, I’ve enjoyed having lunch down in the motocross garage with the guys and watching Paige and Parker go at one another only to have whatever they are fighting over be settled in the dirt.

My luck with running into Paige hasn’t been so fortunate. Between my non-stop working to get their accounts in order, hiring new employees, and basically falling face first into my bed each night, I haven’t seen her outside of lunch time.

Len was telling me yesterday that Paige has been busy talking deals over with the drivers of other motor sports. She has also been out on the finished moto track practicing every chance she can get.

It’s a good thing really. I was hired to do a job, not fuck around in offices, garages, or hallway closets with my boss. I fucked up my last job by banging the boss’s daughter, so as much as I want to fuck Paige’s brains out, I need to keep all that separate from who I am at work. It doesn’t mean I haven’t been looking forward to messages from her or phone sex at night.

Yeah, that hasn’t happened either.

If it wasn’t for the occasional glances she has thrown my way or the look she gets in her eyes when I walk into a room, I would think our sex life together has shriveled up and died. And then again, I have no fucking clue what is going on in that woman’s head. Nor do I want to know. Have you seen how quickly her moods turn? That is one place I never want to get into.

Just her pussy.

And her mouth.

Maybe someday her arse?

I can hope, so don’t look at me like that. Women get off on arse play too. I think Paige would be one of them.

While I’ve been busy with my own things and Paige has been busy with her deal, Parker has been left unsupervised. I have to say it is a dangerous thing to let him be this free. The man is a freak of nature who thinks himself a modern marvel, God’s gift to woman-kind with a twelve-inch dick and the attention span of a three-year-old with the maturity to match.

Yesterday, he came in right after I got back from lunch and proceeded to give me every dirty detail he could about his past conquests. None of which he could recall any of the women’s names. I know I’m not much better when it comes to past conquests, but I don’t go around bragging about the women I’ve bedded in the same type of flair Parker seems to enjoy.

He’s labeled them too.

There is a screamer, a giggler, a freak in the sheets, and his latest happens to be his prude. That one fascinates him. He can’t quite seem to get her to bend to his will yet. A challenge in the eyes of a man like Parker Bartin can lead down the land of trouble and will someday get him something he might not ever really want.

As for today… well, it isn’t much different from yesterday. I came back from my lunch break where I had watched Len work on one of the twins’ bikes and bullshitted for a bit. Heading back to my office, I dug back into the hole left from their past accountant.

What.

A.

Clusterfuck.

The man royally fucked them over and himself. He kept every single ledger from the very beginning when he started to rip the twins off, and a separate one for everything he took out of the company.

The stupid cunt.

The twins really did start with nothing. The only items they had to their names were a couple of hundred dollars, the clothes on their backs, and their racing gear along with two bikes. They hired the cunt they called an accountant when fame started to pick up for them. He was low in price, and at that time, he was only working for them. Until he was working for himself; it didn’t take him long to start taking a couple of hundred here or there from the twins’ personal accounts and their business account until one of them wised up.

And when I mean one of them, I mean Paige. I don’t think Parker thinks about anything in the world; not where his next meal is coming from or if the bills are even paid. He truly has embraced the celebrity lifestyle.

It took me until six last night to get a feel for what all was missing, and most of this morning, I’ve spent trying to sort it all through. I’m trying to rein my focus in, but that doesn’t really happen with the inflated ego lounging in my sitting area. My office may have a great deal of space from my lounging area to my desk, but it carries voices well. And Parker’s happens to be one of those who never runs out of air or things to say.

“The party is the biggest Salt Lake has ever seen, Ax.” Parker throws his arms out wide, indicating how big this so-called party he and Paige have every year out in the desert is. “The bikes, the speed, and fuck, man, the chicks are basically running around naked all weekend.”

“Okay.” I’ve been giving him small acknowledgements every so often; it makes him believe I’m listening to him when I’m really not. I’m close to having everything balanced out again, so they can finally bring on other motor sports racers with contracts.

“I kid you not. Tits are everywhere!” He says it as if he is seizing. It’s pretty comical to watch him from just beyond my line of sight while he loses his shit.

“Do you need to be alone?” My brows rise, and I push my glasses down to regard him.

Barking out a laugh, Parker shakes his head. “Nah, Ax. I’m good.” He finally gets off his arse and makes his way to the door. “I could tug on the albino cave dweller right there.” He points at my couch. “And you would be none the wiser. I should be asking you if you need to be alone with how into those numbers and books you are.”

And that is how it works. You underestimate a person’s capacity for intelligence and end up slapped across the face when they prove you wrong. Parker looks and acts like a moron, a pretty boy who has lived off his looks and ego, when he isn’t.

For the most part.

I think he relies on his dick, tongue, and douchebag charm most of the time and hides the fact he can actually think from most people.

“See?” My eyes shoot up from their fixed position on the opposite edge of my desk to Parker at the door. “Paige isn’t the only one hiding their true self in my family, Axle. You would be wise to remember that.” He turns and leaves without another word.

I can’t be for certain if I’ve pissed him off, but I don’t really care. I can’t read other people’s emotions worth a shit, and frankly, I don’t give a shit. He was bugging me while I was trying to do my work. Parker needs to go back down to the garage and start working instead of bugging me or flirting with the receptionists.

Shaking it off, I push my glasses back up my nose and go back to work. By the end of the day, I should be done with all this and can start focusing on whatever else needs to be handled.

My phone chooses to go off fifteen minutes later.

Have I told you I haven’t gotten any messages from Paige in the past couple of days?

I have? Well, good. Then I don’t need to go in to detail about how I felt like an addict coming off a bender. I had the shakes, night sweats, and all that wonderful shit from not hearing from her. So being the hopeless junky I am, I quickly pluck my phone from the top drawer in my desk and light it up.

Disappointment floods me like ice injected into my veins.