Still standing behind me, I sensed him sigh. His voice tightened with a hint of frustration, yet his hands never lost their rhythm.
“We really don’t.”
“It’s just... he has a valid point.” Stepping away from his touch, I turned to face him. In the cramped confines of the linen closet, we were uncomfortably close. Close enough for me to see each water droplet clinging to his lashes from the shower, every wisp of steam rising off his bare chest. “There’s a lot riding on this merger for the company.”
His eyes narrowed, but I understood him well enough by now to recognize that none of his frustration was directed at me. Rarely, if ever, was it directed at me.
“And why should my social life affect my father’s company?”
It was a naive question, one neither of us believed he truly meant.
To
