The nice, charismatic person I met that first day, the one who was kind and seemed to take an interest in me… he’s disappeared. I’m not working for him. I work for his evil twin. The one who only cares about two things.

Work and himself.

Aside from yesterday, his mood has gotten worse and worse each day. It’s been a roller coaster ride. One minute he’s pleasant and happy, the next he’s the devil himself.

I’m almost at my wits’ end today. It started the second he stepped off the elevator. He dropped a stack of papers on my desk and told me to plan on staying late before disappearing into his office and slamming the door. That’s the last I’ve seen of him.

His door has remained closed all day.

He’s buzzed me a few times asking for things, having me run errands, call clients to reschedule.

He’s not seeing anyone today. He can’t keep doing that. I’ve rescheduled more appointments since starting here than he’s had. His clients have to be questioning their decision to work with him, to work with Dixon and Sons. This is bad for business, and I’m sure he knows it.

The big question on my mind right now is how late he expects me to stay.

It’s Friday. I’m exhausted and I have plans tonight. Ian has a work engagement that I’m supposed to be attending with him, and after Ryder started to show his ugly side again today, I’m thinking about entertaining my other options. Working with Ian wouldn’t be my first choice, knowing how competitive he is, but it’s better than the alternative at the moment.

I finish Ryder’s list of demands just after five. Knocking softly on his door, he calls out for me to enter. I’m hesitant, but I slowly twist the knob and open the door. What I find is shocking.

Ryder is standing in the middle of his office, wearing just his dress pants and socks. He’s surrounded on all sides by small stacks of papers. They form a circle around him and he’s twisting in the middle.

“What is it?” he asks without looking up.

“Everything you asked for is finished. Is there anything else you need from me before I take off for the day?”

I spent a good majority of the afternoon planning my words carefully. I have about an hour before I absolutely have to leave. Ian won’t wait long for me to get ready. He’s expected to be there at seven o’clock sharp.

“Yes. Come in and close the door,” he says, turning again as he stares at the stacks of paper, his back now to me.

Doing as he asks, I close the door and when I turn back around, he’s only a few feet away from me, staring at me. Making eye contact, I can see his emotions on edge.

“This,” he says, motioning to the papers, “is confidential. I need your help, but you can’t talk about it. To anyone, including your boyfriend. Do you understand?”

“Of course.”

“I need you to say it, Emerson.”

“I won’t tell anyone about whatever this is,” I reply, breaking eye contact.

His intensity is startling. Being this close to him without his shirt on is making my palms sweat and my heart rate increase.

“Good. Now come over here and grab a stack.”

Following directions, I pick up a stack and take a seat. Ryder kneels on the ground, grabbing a stack for himself.

“I hope you’re good at making tough decisions,” he mutters.

Looking down at the papers in front of me, I begin to understand his recent demeanor.

Divorce is never easy, I imagine. Especially when a child is involved. Amara is only five years old. She doesn’t understand what is going on, and I’m sure he would like to keep it that way. For as long as he can.

“I’m not sure I can help you with this,” I confess, shuffling the papers in my hand.

“You can. I can’t do this alone.”

“What about your brothers?”

“They don’t understand it. They think I should give her whatever she wants so she makes this easier. I don’t agree with them. She doesn’t deserve to get anything, but I can make this end sooner if I concede.”

Watching as he pushes one stack aside and slides another in front of him, I take him in. He’s leaner than I originally thought. All muscle, toned chest and abs. There’s probably not an ounce of fat on his body. If he were facing me, I’m sure I would be able to see the well-defined outline of a six-pack. I shamelessly stole a glimpse when I first walked in.

I also noticed a tattoo under his arm, down his side. It looked like Old English lettering. It makes me wonder whose name he tattooed on his body. Was it his soon-to-be ex-wife’s? For his sake, I hope not.

“So, what do you want me to do exactly?” I ask, forcing myself to focus. If I can do this quickly, I should be able to make it home on time. If not… I should probably call Ian and let him know.

I thought about calling him earlier or sending him a text to give him a heads up that I had to stay late, but I was worried he would get upset. Then we would fight. If I get out of here, I can avoid both. If I miss this event, he’s going to be pissed. He made it clear that it is important. More important than my job to be exact.

Take the day off so you can go to the salon and spa. Go crazy. Get your hair done. Get pampered. Then you’ll have time to shop for a new dress.

His words have been playing on repeat all day. He wanted to make sure I looked the part. He was even willing to hand over his credit card to ensure that I did.

Not that I don’t want to make him happy. I know tonight is important to him, for his career, and potentially mine. Now, staring at the stacks of papers on the floor, I’m afraid I’m going to let him down. It’s becoming more apparent that I need to make the call.

“Each of these stacks is one option of how we divide things in the divorce. Some were sent over by her attorney, some by mine. I need to figure out two options to present on Monday when we meet.”

“And if you can come to a collective decision?”

The words are out of my mouth before I can filter them. Why did I ask him that? This is none of my business. He’s only asking me to help because I have no stake in any of this. I don’t know her and I barely know him. What I do know isn’t great.

I have heard a lot about the both of them, though. Allison and Justine have taken it upon themselves to fill me in on all the details of their life.

They’ve been married for six years. They met in college and dated for three years before getting married suddenly. Amara arrived six months later to the surprise of both their families.

Rumor has it, she cheated on him. That’s why they’re getting divorced. At first, people were saying that he was the one who cheated until they found out that he was the one that filed.

The “vacation” he was on… that was him asking her for a divorce. Away from their daughter.

The rumors are wild. Some make sense, others contradict sound reason.

“I don’t want to think about that at the moment,” Ryder says, exasperated. “I just want to figure out what I should do.”

Sliding to the floor, he knocks a stack over in frustration, sending papers flying everywhere. Out of habit, I start gathering them and making a new pile.

“I’m not sure I’m the right person to help you with this, Ryder. I barely know you and I know nothing about your relationship with…”

“Megan,” he says, finishing my sentence as I hand him a few of his scattered papers.

When I look up, he’s staring down at me. His eyes are filled with defeat but there’s something else I see that surprises me. Hope.

My mind begins to wander the longer we stare at each other. Thoughts of pushing him against his chest, rolling on top of him and helping him forget about the horrible situation he’s in right now. Thoughts that make my heart race and bring a smile to my face. They are also thoughts I shouldn’t be having. Thoughts that are inappropriate whether or not I work for him.

Acting on those thoughts wouldn’t make life any easier for either of us. He would still be getting divorced and I would be a cheating whore. The rumors about me attempting to sleep my way to the top would run wild. I would feel guilty on many levels, but mostly because if there is one thing I’m not, it’s unfaithful.

I’m nothing like Megan.

“Yeah, her. Look, I think you need to figure out what things are the most important to the both of you. What is it that she’ll fight you over? Then, figure out what you’re willing to live without so you can make this happen.”

“That’s the problem. We both want the one thing that can’t be split. Amara.”

Of course they do. I’m sure that’s always the biggest issue when parents split up.

“What about joint custody?”

“She won’t agree to that.”

“Did she say that?”

“In a way. She’s trying to make this hard on me. She’s trying to make my life a living hell. All I want is to find a way to get along for the sake of our daughter, but I’m not willing to give her up. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me and I know that if I let her live with Megan full time, she’ll find a way to ruin that. She’ll turn her against me or keep her from me any chance she gets. It’s the way she is. She’s vindictive.”

Nodding my head even though he’s no longer looking in my direction, I try to sympathize with him. I know nothing about being married, but I do know a thing or two about being in a relationship with a selfish person. Before Ian, my boyfriends were compassionate and supportive. Ian was too. At first. Now I see his other side most of the time.

Life is about him. What will make Ian happy today? What will Ian want to do tonight? What should I make Ian for dinner?

Aside from taking this job, which I didn’t consult him on, he makes all the decisions for us.

Remembering I have to still call him, I let out a little huff. He’s going to be furious. Irate. This could be the straw that breaks us. I should be concerned, upset at that thought, but I’m not. I’m at peace with it. I know our relationship will end eventually. As soon as I moved in with him, I knew it. He was different than the person I dated in college. He wasn’t “my Ian” anymore.

“Okay, before we get started, we need provisions,” I state, trying to lighten the mood. The air is heavy and Ryder is tense. “Pizza or Chinese?”

“Um,” Ryder says, standing and moving behind his desk. “You choose. Here are a few options. I circled the things I like for my last assistant. She kept screwing up my order.”

Handing me the takeout menus, I stand but don’t move. He’s blocking my path. Only inches from me, I suck in a breath and let it out slowly. My nerves are shot right now, dirty thoughts of him running through my mind every time I steal a glance in his direction. I’m sure he can see it. I’ve never been good at hiding my feelings. Most of the time, they’re written all over my face.

Stepping aside, I slide past Ryder, careful not to knock over any of the stacks of paperwork he has spread out. Out of habit, I close his door behind me. Dropping into my chair, I pick up the menu on top and quickly glance through it before I call and place our order.

As soon as I hang up, I hear my phone ringing in my desk. Looking at the time, it’s almost six o’clock. It’s Ian. I’m not home and he’s wondering where I am.

The ringing stops as soon as I open my desk. Ian’s face disappears from my screen and I contemplate not returning his call for a minute. I don’t want to fight with him right now and no matter what I say, he’s going to pick a fight with me.

Talk? No, he’ll talk. I’ll listen. I’m sure he’ll have plenty to say too.

My job is pointless. I should quit. I should have taken the day off. I don’t care about him or his job.

Five minutes pass and my text goes unanswered. Yep, this is the straw. I can feel it in my heart. I didn’t cave to his demands and he’s not going to let me forget it. He’ll hold this over my head for a long time.

Well, I’m not going to let that happen. It’s only a party, just like this is only my job.

“Hey, can you grab us a couple sodas?” Ryder asks, poking his head out of his office.

I wonder how long he’s been there.

Was he watching me?

“Sure. Food should be here in twenty minutes,” I reply, standing and straightening my back. I don’t want him to see my weaknesses. I want him to think I’m tough, that I can handle anything he throws at me.

I want to move up with this company. I want this to be my career. Now that I understand why he’s been such a demanding asshole, I think we can get along and make this work. One day we’ll be on the same level, or close to it.

“What did you order?”

“You’ll see,” I tease, walking past him toward the break room.

I’ve built up a stock of diet and regular Coke over the past week. He changes his mind as much as his mood changes, which explains why there were so many empty cans of both littered around his office while he was gone. I need to keep both on hand to make sure he’s happy. The smile on his face right now tells me that he’s in good spirits, especially considering the task we’re about to tackle.

If he smiled at me like that every day, the only thing getting tackled would be him.

Down girl.

Keep your dirty thoughts in check. You’re highly emotional right now, fighting with Ian. Having these kinds of thoughts can only cause you more trouble. You don’t need that right now. Let’s figure out one fucked up situation before moving on to the next.

Plus, he’s still shirtless and you’ve always been a sucker for abs. You’re in the danger zone. Beware.