1
It was late in the morning, and, dressed in his favorite new black suit, Harris hurried into Ilios’s offices. The second he walked through the door and into the large loft space bustling with activity, his assistant and good friend Reshone shot out of her chair. “Where were you? What happened to you?” she asked, sizing him up.
Harris passed a few desks and waved at some colleagues. Everyone was on the phone or clicking around on their laptops. Maybe ignoring him? “Hey, I’m not thatlate,” he said, stopping by Reshone’s desk.
Then, thinking of what he’d done this morning on his way to work, Harris tried not to feel ashamed. He’d have to cut himself some slack. After all, he was under a lot of pressure lately and using sex to release some of it. Besides, hadn’t the clerk at the store come on tohim?The guy had practically shoved him into the backroom of the empty store. He’d been on his knees before Harris had time to unzip his pants.
Smiling to himself, Harris shook the thought off and looked out of the dusty wall to wall window, down at Sainte-Catherine Street. His attention strayed to the beautiful Saint James Church across the street. He never tired of seeing that incredible facade, but even after two years of working right across from the church, he’d never dared to step inside the building. Why? Did he think he’d be struck down by God or something?
He turned away from the window and dropped a small box on Reshone’s desk. “Here. For you.” She’d been a real trooper these last months, putting up with him. In the advertisement business, Harris had earned quite a reputation for being excessively demanding and temperamental, and lately, Reshone was the only one at work who’d dared to pass the threshold of his office door.
Reshone’s large black eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What is it?” she asked, but her smooth, brown hands were already tearing at the silk paper. “Better be keys to my new condo in the Old Port.”
“It’s nothing. Just a little thing to say I’m sorry for being such a bad boy lately.”
“Lately?”
“Ha, funny,” he said, walking away to his office. He’d earned that office with actual walls and a door. He’d reeled in more accounts than anyone in the last year alone. He knew people were envious of his success. Some were even angry with him. What ticked off some of his colleagues though, Harris suspected, was that he’d been able to start his own new company, Hades in Love, without losing ground with Ilios’s top clients. He’d spent the last two years developing his first fragrance for men along with the marketing campaign that would launch it, while keeping his Ilios accounts flowing in.
Everyone knew he’d be leaving this place as soon as his perfume took off.
In his office, Harris checked his e-mails and phone messages. Nothing he couldn’t handle this morning. He’d get through another day at the office and hurry home to his lab, where he felt best. Left alone with his experiments and blotters.
Moments later, Reshone stood in his office door holding up the little figurine. “Who’s she?”
“Athena. Zeus’s favorite daughter. Minerva…” Harris touched his forehead. “She sprung from Zeus’s mind. She was a warrior. Stood for justice, too.”
“Oh, well, thanks, boss.” Reshone tucked the miniature Athena into her pocket. In her brown tailored suit, she could have been a modern warrior goddess herself. She entered the office and walked to the window. “Gorgeous day, huh?”
June in Montreal was always fun, but he hadn’t enjoyed the summer yet. He was always locked up in his apartment, working. Dreaming.
“So,” she said without looking back at him, “is that why you’re late again? You went for a little morning stroll?” She turned to look at him over her shoulder, her dark curls bouncing slightly. “You bought me this thing at that tacky gift shop around the corner because you hooked up with the cute clerk, didn’t you?”
Busted
“Oh, shit, how did you know?” This was the reason he loved having her at his side. She was fearless and so perspicacious, always a step ahead of him.
Reshone winked. “I was in there last week, and the second I saw the man’s face, I knew you’d be waltzing in there one day, on your way to work, and not be able to resist.”
“Yeah, well, I’m gonna stop doing that.” Harris fiddled with some papers on his desk. He was tired of the one-night stands. Tired of all these missed connections.
“You’re gonna quit casual sex?” She scoffed. “You?”
“What? I’m boyfriend material.” But was he? He’d messed up every serious relationship he’d ever had. Too possessive. Too intense. Too much of everything.