There are some things that just didn’t happen in Simon’s life. He had never gotten a parking ticket. He had never cut in line. And he had certainly never danced with a future boss, let alone had his future boss suck on his--

“I’m really sorry,” Evan said. “I mean, I never would’ve have done that if I’d known it was you. I mean, it’s like we’re related! Oh, no, god, why did I say that, I only made it worse!”

Simon waved his hand, nearly knocking his coffee off the table. “No, no, of course, no. Forget it ever happened. I have.”

“You have?”

“Poof, gone, like I’ve been hit on the head and have amnesia.”

Which was a lie, of course. Simon couldn’t forget. The moment between them had been on his mind, in one form or another, ever since. It was almost physically painful to sit here across from Evan, with his beautiful skin and perfect clothes.

In spare moments since the club, he had fantasized about running into the gorgeous stranger again. Simon himself would have been shy, but the confident stranger would have drawn him in; over long conversations they would find themselves compatible, and then the stranger would whisk Simon away, somewhere magical.

Instead, the mysterious stranger was his new boss, so the only place he was getting whisked to was right back to work.

If only the shock could make the arousal go away. Just being this close to Evan, Simon could feel his body responding. Quit that! Not here!

Evan cleared his throat. “I mean, in any case, clearly you and I can’t work together.”

“It would be awkward,” said Simon.

“Totally inappropriate. I don’t even think the legal department would allow me to work in your office, given what happened,” Evan said.

Simon paled, and felt his heart race. “You’re going to tell the legal department?”

“What? No! I’m just saying, you know, if I did tell them.”

“Why would you tell Legal?” His lips were starting to tingle with numbness.

Evan held up a hand, as though he needed a second. They both did. Simon took another swallow of his coffee.

“I’m sorry,” Evan said finally. “It’s just nerves, I can’t think straight, I can’t talk. This has been a really stressful few days. Of course I wouldn’t tell anyone. Not that there’s anything to tell. I mean, there’s no story to tell anyone. It’s just one of those things that happen. You meet a cute guy at the club—”

Oh shit did he just say he thinks I’m cute? thought Simon. Maybe it was one of those consolation-prize words, like if you didn’t make it to hot or sexy, you’d get cute.

“It’s not something that ever happens to me,” said Simon. He couldn’t lift his gaze from the table. “That’s what’s so mortifying about it. Can you imagine if your uncle found out?”

“His rage would be positively operatic,” said Evan.

“Worse, though, all I can think is, what if your dad were alive to find out? He’d hate me.”

“Oh please,” said Evan. “You were like the son he never had. Always with the Simon’s so smart and Simon’s so good. Although like I said, I thought you were about sixty, with bad posture. Possibly smelling of vinegar and onions.”

Simon ran his finger along the edge of the table. “I’m glad I inspired such a dazzling portrait. Vinegar and onions?”

“I couldn’t imagine someone our own age being so devoted to Dad!” Suddenly Evan’s voice dropped. “Clearly I wasn’t that devoted to him. And now he’s gone, and I’ll never get the chance to make it up to him.”

He sounded so lost. I’d always wondered how his father’s death had hit him. I knew he couldn’t be as shallow as everyone said.

“I don’t know if it’s my place to say this,” said Simon, “but he thought about you all the time.”

“Thought about me, or worried about me?”

Simon shrugged. “A little of both? You were always getting into trouble.”

“That’s the thing,” said Evan. “Now that he’s gone, I’ll never get a chance to tell him why I’m always in trouble. I’ll never be able to explain anything to him. I’ll never…”

His voice trailed off. He looked embarrassed. Simon could understand that. How do you talk about this stuff with a stranger? Especially a stranger in the position they were now in?

It was strange, though, because Evan was a Cray. Evan had spent a long time thinking of the Crays as emotionless money-machines. Ash and Callum had been mortal enemies of Evan and his friends for a long time, and the only thing that made working here bearable, was that the two brothers had no interest in the records department.

Evan looked like he came from a different world than them, in a way Simon couldn’t quite put his finger on.

Maybe that was just the attraction talking. The attraction that he had to stop thinking about.

“Well,” Evan said, “you’ll have to forgive me for moping for a moment there.”

“It’s not moping, it’s grieving.”

Evan stood up from the table. “Regardless, I’m sorry for troubling you. I’ll let my uncle know that I need someone else to work with.”

Simon looked up uncertainly. “You won’t tell him why though, right?”

“Oh god, no, I’d never hear the end of it. I’ll say we were…I don’t know. Incompatible or something. I’ll figure it out.”

“It’s just—”

Evan paused before walking away. “Yes?”

Simon swallowed. He wasn’t sure how to say this. “The problem is, if I’m not working with you, I’m not sure your uncle will have a reason to keep me in the company. Ever since your dad passed away, they’ve moved me from office to office. I think they’re just keeping me here out of respect for him. But if you say we can’t work together…they might let me go.”

Evan looked startled. Simon could see him thinking.

“I didn’t think about that,” Evan said. “We’ll work something out. I promise.”

He sounded confident enough when he said it…so why did it feel to Simon like it might be the end of the world?