OFF THE CUFF

One

10 months later…

“Craaaap,” I whined as I glanced at my watch—late again.

I was still wiping formula spit-up off my shirt as I stepped onto the elevator. Why did I decide to wear white today? After only three or four hours of inconsistent sleep, I was lucky to be standing.

Thank you, espresso machine.

Kinsey had kept me up half the night—more teething, but hopefully it was the last of it for a while.

When I took on the guardianship of my niece, it was sink or swim. This was a sink kind of day, and to top it off, it was Monday.

It could only get better, right?

Oh, the lies I told myself. Even as I thought about it, I laughed.

It was fifteen minutes after eight when I flew out of the elevator toward my desk. I flashed a glance at Matt’s office as I ran by, but he wasn’t there.

Shit.

The moment I hit my cube, my bag was on the ground and I was waking my computer up.

“Late again, I see,” Matt said from behind me.

I jumped and cursed as I turned to look at my boss. “I’m sorry.”

He waved me off. “You know the drill by now.”

I nodded and smiled at him. “Short lunch for me today!”

I had an arrangement due to my situation—as long as I got my hours in each day, I was good. However, that often led to working through my lunch breaks.

“Maybe I could use you later to pick up my lunch for me?”

I nodded and let out a sigh of relief. Maybe the day wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Picking up Matt’s lunch wasn’t a punishment like many in the office thought it was. I wasn’t reduced to acting assistant or anything. In fact, my boss was one of the few people who knew why I was often late, even if it was only a few minutes most of the time.

By picking up his lunch, it ensured that I would also get a meal, but purchased on company time, not using my extremely limited break for lunch. It was a break I was bound to work through anyway.

“Thanks.”

He tapped his hand on the top of my cube wall. “Don’t forget to get that new social media pitch in today.”

“You’ll have it this afternoon.”

For two years I’d worked at Donovan Trading and Investment in the marketing department. It was a great company, and I actually loved my job. It helped that the owner happened to be a friend. I’d met James Donovan and his wife, Lizzie, a few years prior in the emergency room—me with my sister and them with their daughter, Bailey.

We’d struck up conversation that turned into a great friendship—one of the few that survived the last ten months.

It was due to our friendship that I’d learned about the opening in the marketing department. While it was my friend’s company, the only help I received was the link to submit my resume.

Lizzie was my rock those first few months with Kinsey, as she had a six-month-old at the time. I couldn’t thank her enough for helping to keep me sane.

My pitch was ninety-five percent complete, and I spent the next few hours combing over it, fine-tuning my ideas.

At noon, I received a text from Matt with his order, and I saved my work before seeing his assistant, January, for his credit card.

When I stepped into the elevator, I smashed my finger into the wall, misjudging the distance.

“Ouch!” I cried out. I looked down to my middle finger and the cracked nail. Crap.

I shook my hand, hoping that would make the pain fade faster.

It had been nearly a year since I’d gotten a manicure, and I desperately missed them.

After dropping off Matt’s lunch, I returned to my desk with my own meal in hand.

I wasted no time stuffing my face with the Cuban sandwich, which smelled delicious, and I was halfway through when a glob of mustard dripped out and onto my shirt.

“s**t,” I hissed. Immediately I tried to wipe it away, which only made it smear. A groan of frustration left me, and I threw the napkins down and picked my sandwich back up.

After finishing the last few bites, I headed to the bathroom in hopes that I could get the yellow smear out of my white top. Some cold water, paper towels, and two minutes later, it was still there.

I threw my head back. “For f**k’s sake.” A half laugh, half cry left me, and I huffed before trying again.

It wasn’t coming out. I knew it, the mustard knew it, and so did my shirt.

I gave up and returned to my desk, opening the bottom drawer to pull out my spare shirt, only to find the space empty. A groan left me, and I banged my head against my desk.

A similar disaster had hit last week, and I’d used my backup and apparently forgot to bring another one back.

“Fantastic,” I hissed just as my calendar app chimed.

Up popped an event reminder, and I glanced at the clock. There were only fifteen minutes until my one o’clock meeting with Matt and Donte. Thankfully, I just had the re-read of my social media pitch to deal with after that.

I cleaned up my mess before detaching my laptop, grabbing my water, and heading to Matt’s office. As soon as I entered, Donte gave me a sad smile.

“Rough day?”

A whimper left me. “Tell me it gets easier.”

He patted my arm. “It does, and it will. Teething?”

I nodded. “I think I maybe got two solid hours of sleep and a few cat-naps.”

Donte was another of the few people who knew about Kinsey. It wasn’t that I was keeping her a secret per se, but I only interacted with a few people in my department. I didn’t feel the need to scream out that I suddenly had a baby.

Donte had two kids himself, so he understood.

“Sorry about that,” Matt said as he rushed in and got settled back at his desk. “How’s everyone’s day today?” He looked me up and down, then shook his head at my new stain.

“Yeah, it’s that good,” I said with a chuckle. Because if I didn’t laugh, I might cry from exhaustion.

“Get some sleep tonight,” Matt directed.

“Can you tell the ten-month-old that? Because she doesn’t seem to agree.”

Both men chuckled.

Matt drummed his hands on his desktop. “Okay. The boss wants us to draw up some materials for the initial public announcement of the Worthington Exchange takeover. He wants their customers to be reassured and excited about the changes.”

“Print graphics? Commercials? What media are we talking about?” I asked in an attempt to get a handle on the scope while tamping down the excitement buzzing through me.

“All.”

My eyes widened. “That is a huge undertaking.”

“Which is why I’m giving it to you two. You’re going to hand over a lot of your other commitments to Liza and Mateo. This will be your focus.”

Donte nodded. “Sounds good.”

Matt drummed his hands on his desk again. “All right, get to it. Roe’s getting me the social media proposal and Donte’s got the editorial in by…”

“Tomorrow afternoon,” Donte replied.

“Excellent. Off you go,” Matt said, shooing us from the room.

“We should nab some time in one of the conference rooms this week,” Donte said as soon as we were out of the door and headed back to our desks.

I nodded in agreement. “Definitely.” They always seemed to fill up fast, and we would need a few hours each day to talk things out without disturbing people working around us.

“Now to finish up this social media pitch and figure out what information I need to send with these other projects.”

“Want me to go over the pitch for you?”

“Would you mind? I’d really appreciate it.” I reattached my laptop to the docking station and woke my computer up. “I’ve spent the last two weeks on it and could really use another set of eyes.”

“No problem. This is just for ads, right?”

I nodded. “f******k. Twitter. Instagram.” My eyes narrowed at the screen. Something wasn’t right. I’d enlarged the top font earlier in the day, and it was smaller. I scrolled down, and a few other things I’d changed were also missing.

A prickle of panic shot through me, and my stomach dropped.

“No. No, no, no.” My eyes were wide as my breath left me. I saved before I left. I knew I did, but it was back to the point of my arrival that morning. “I saved before lunch, but all those updates are gone!”

“Calm down,” Donte said over my shoulder. “We’ll find it.”

“I will seriously cry if it’s gone,” I said, on the verge of tears as I sat back to let him get closer. I couldn’t even think straight, and I was thankful Donte was there with a clear mind.

He leaned over me, focused on a list of files. It was a few minutes before he clicked on one. “I think I found it,” he said.

The file popped open, and I gave a huge sigh when I saw a more recent update. As I scrolled through, I noticed it wasn’t to the point it was when I left for lunch, but it was closer.

“Almost, but a lot better than that other one.”

“It’s a large file. You may have closed it down before it finished saving.”

That made sense. I was rushing to get out to pick up lunch. “My fault, then.” I looked at him and gave him a strained smile. “Thank you so much.”

“Is it too far off from where you were?” he asked, scanning the file along with me.

I shook my head. “No, but it still stings, given the day I’ve had, and this delays me more.”

“It’ll be okay,” he said as he straightened. “Take a few deep breaths, get some coffee, and maybe put in your earbuds to drown everything out.”

“That sounds like a great idea.”

He smiled down at me. “About time to recognize.”

A laugh left me, and I rolled my eyes. “All right, you’ve got mad skills.”

“That’s what I’m talking about.”

“Thank you again, Donte. So much.”

He grinned at me. “I got you, dog.”

After he stepped away, I took a more in-depth look at the proposal. Thankfully, I didn’t lose much. The only reprieve to my day.

I made a few alterations, staring at the screen until a yawn rolled through me.

Coffee time.

When I got to the break room, I let out a whine at the empty pot sitting on the burner. Why didn’t the person who took the last cup make a new pot? We were all coffee addicts; it wasn’t like it was going to go to waste.

As I prepared a new pot, another yawn moved through me. I prayed that sleep would fill my night.

I leaned over the counter of the break room, watching the pot of coffee slowly fill. The smell of the fresh brew lifted my spirits, and it helped me knowing soon I’d have a delicious cup in hand that would help me get through the next few hours.

“Are you okay, Roe?” January asked.

I blew out a breath and turned to her. “It’s the worst case of the Mondays. Please tell me it will get better. Lie if you have to.”

“Oh, sweetie.” Her gaze moved down my shirt. “It will get better. Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Before I could ask or have her just meet me at my desk, she was gone.

My eyes drooped for a second, heavy as afternoon drowsiness hit and combined with my already tired state. After ten months of caring for my baby niece, you’d think I’d have the perpetual lack of sleep down to an art form, but alas, it wasn’t so. There was no such thing as getting used to operating on just a few broken hours of sleep. A quick intake of breath and some blinks shook me awake, at least for a moment.

While I spaced out, the dripping of the coffee subsided and I poured a cup. The smell was divine, and I pulled a container from the fridge. I loved to mix in some premade cold mocha to cool it down faster and make it even yummier. I took a sip of my coffee, a moan leaving me. Perfect.

In my tuned-out state, I wasn’t aware there was someone behind me. As I turned, my elbow caught his outstretched arm. The jostle sent a wave of coffee over the lip of the mug. Hot, dark liquid splashed across my hand and the clothing covering the person behind me.

My eyes were wide as my body bowed back to avoid more of it landing on me, my hand stinging from the warmth. Thankfully the mocha had cooled it down some.

“Oh, crap. I am so sorry!” My s**t day that was having a brighter moment just got even worse.

“f*****g incompetent twit!” he spat as he grabbed for some paper towels.

My mouth dropped open. “I am so sorry,” I apologized again, my brain stuck in blame-taking mode even though his words were grating on me. It could also be partially blamed on the hotness towering over me.

The man before me with his whip of a tongue was just as lashing with his looks. I’d seen him around before. Who wouldn’t have noticed that razor line of a jaw, stunning blue eyes, dark hair, or his perfect body in a suit that had to be custom made?

He may have starred in a fantasy or two of mine, but that was to be expected with a man like him.

My gaze caught on the flicker of his black cuff links as they glimmered with each swipe of his hand. They struck me as odd and off brand from what little personality I’d built up in my head.

“Sorry doesn’t fix this,” he growled at me.

He was pissed, and for some reason, that was funny to me. Of course Mr. Too-Sexy-For-His-Suit had a bad attitude. It was an accident. If he’d done something as simple as alerting me to his presence behind me, it wouldn’t have happened.

Past his looks, I knew who he was in name only, but our encounter showed me that it was more than enough.

“It was an accident. If anyone is at fault, it’s you for sneaking up on me.”

He glared down at me, taking in my stained shirt, and tsked.

“You are incompetent,” he sneered as he brushed a wet paper towel against his shirt.

Incompetent?

The word repeated in my mind as I stared at him.

The day had been long, the challenges hard, and I had battle scars in the form of the discoloration of my shirt to prove it.

The vein on my forehead throbbed, and the anger that simmered under my frustration of the day boiled over.

I’d had a s**t day, and he was the icing on that cake. Icing I didn’t want. I already had formula, mustard, and coffee.

Fuck. Him.

I narrowed my gaze at him before extending my arm and tipping my cup, splashing another dark stain onto the very expensive, fitted suit he filled out so well.

“Oops.” I smiled, watching the brown soak into the white of his dress shirt before heading to the doorway where January was standing, a detergent pen in her hand, jaw dropped as she witnessed what just happened.

“Thanks,” I said as I snatched the pen from her, ignoring the death glare being burned into the back of my head.

Well, my day didn’t get better, but I sure felt better after that.