12. WARREN

We weren't late, but we weren't on time either. I had a meeting at 9:30 A.M. and we arrived just in time. Alexi stood behind me the entire way into the office with his pink drink and a binder of paperwork under his arm. He was anxious there would be a telling off for being late.

In the meeting room, it was just Marcus. He stared at me, his eyes narrowing to the coffee in my hand. I wasn't his assistant, but there was some judgement for not asking him if he wanted one.

"Where is everyone?" I asked.

"They were waiting for you," he grumbled from the head of the table. He glanced at Alexi. He'd taken a seat at the back of the room against the wall.

"I don't know why," I grumbled, sucking coffee through the lip of the lid. "They know where to come. Anyway, there's some mock designs for the stall. We need your sign off, and then we can get them off to the printer." Something I should have been able to do, but Marcus liked to be the name signing off on anything. It was good that he was involved, but it was tedious.

Marcus shrugged, picking his legs up and resting his feet on the edge of the table. He nodded at Alexi. "First day as Warren's assistant. Apparently, he needs one of those. You'll have to let me know what stuff he has you doing."

Alexi's glance shifted from him to me and back again. "I think it'll be better than what I was doing."

"And he's not just my assistant," I added. "He's assisting the marketing department. He's an essential part."

"Well, don't let him overwork you," Marcus grumbled. "I like to think I run an easy-going company, besides, a couple people in customer services mentioned you got flustered."

"Nobody—" I said, louder. "Nobody is speaking about him. Alexi has already been a huge help. He's the one who put the festival idea forward. I already feel more organised with him."

"That's good," he said. "My assistant is always busy; she rarely has time to grab herself a pink—whatever that is."

"It was my treat," I said, interrupting once more, hoping the marketing team would arrive soon. "If you wanted a treat, next time I'll remember." But we couldn't be doing it every day.

"Must be doing a good job to get treats," he said. "I might have to poach you off him. But don't let him get too reliant on treats, he might start slacking."

Alexi was caught in the crossfire of what seemed like Marcus waking up on the wrong side of the bed.

A gentle tap came to the glass door.

"Ah, there we are," I said, welcoming in my team. "So, Alexi's making notes, bullet points. We want to keep this brief," I said, nodding to him. He opened the binder with paper and the drawing sheet I'd added. His eyes lit up. He pressed it to his chest so nobody would see. "Let's talk posters, flyers, and finalise the designs. We've also got the material swatches so you can feel the differences."

Since Friday, Marcus had been sent several designs via email and test prints. His common notes were hating the colours his cans were branded with, a yellow and blue logo with a bubbly font saying ‘FIZZ'.

During the meeting, I looked back only a couple of times to Alexi. Each time we made eye contact and smiled. It was nice to see him smile more now than he had when we first met. I liked his smiling face; I liked the fact he wasn't running to the bathroom upset, or worse, wandering into handsome strangers who begged to take him for coffee. Although so far, that was only me.

Marcus snapped his fingers. "Did he write that down?" he asked, jolting focus to Alexi.

"Yes," I snapped back, "no orange on the banner."

Alexi looked at me and only me. He nodded. I watched as he noted something. For all the colouring he did with the pen, he was surprisingly good at making random notes from what he heard.

"So, you want leaflet colour and placement of number three," I said, stubbing my finger on the table at a piece of paper, "and you want those on the front banner. We already have the measurements for that."

They nodded to me, furiously making notes.

"And a flag," Marcus said, standing. He placed his feet back on the end of the table. "I saw the emails; I didn't like any of them. Even the one—" he snapped his fingers at the team. "Nick sent before the meeting."

"We don't need a flag if you can't decide on it," I said. "Everything needs to be approved as soon as possible, we're cutting this fine. We need to agree on it. I'd even argue that since the event starts Friday, even this is late."

Marcus scoffed. "Well, what are you waiting for?" He removed his leg from the table.

"I'm behind the idea of having our logo on a Union Jack," I said, "we're a British brand, made and manufactured here, plus, it sends a message to the community."

He hummed, like he had the first and second time I suggested it. "It feels like it's been done."

Nobody on the team wished to speak up or pitch ideas in front of him, and I didn't blame them.

"How about no flag?"

"No, no, we need one," he said. "It's a symbol of being British. So, we'll go with your Union Jack idea."

My team sighed a breath of relief. I couldn't blame them. They looked exhausted. Trying to find ways to sell the company to the public was tough when Marcus had his own ideas, and his background was not in marketing. It was rough.

We were free, finally.

In my office, I shut the door behind Alexi. The glass walls were frosted. Alexi walked ahead, placing the file on my desk.

As he turned, I grabbed him by his cat embroidered cream sweater. "You did a great job." I kissed him.

"You taste like strawberries," I said, my tongue touching his lips.

"You taste like coffee," he said, sticking his tongue out to mimic me. Our tongues touched.

Pulling myself from him, I needed to before getting carried away. We'd both had our sexual screening tests back negative yesterday, and it was taking everything in me not to fill him up with my cream on the desk. But that would break several, and I didn't need to be caught having sex in my office.

"So, tonight," he said, sitting in the chair beside my desk. His hands together, excited in his lap. "What are we going to do?"

"It's a surprise." I placed my hands on his shoulders. We would both love it, but I couldn't tell him what it was until it happened. It wasn't exactly a done deal. "Do you like the sweater I picked out for you?"

"It's nice, soft, I like it, but I wished there was more colour," he said, peering back to look at me.

Reaching the embroidery of the cat, I patted it. "There's a little blue there," I said. "Tomorrow, there will be more colour."

"Thank you." He stroked the top of my hand. "I coloured the cat picture, it has green and blue patchwork fur."

"A Franken-cat?" I chuckled.

Opening the file on his lap, it was pretty much as expected for a green and blue cat. "Is that your favourite colour for a cat?"

"No, I already told you."

And he had. Alexi hadn't mentioned much from his childhood, except for having a cat. It's why I chose the embroidered sweater and the colouring page. "Right," I said, "a silver-grey one."

He nodded. "You remembered."

"I'm a good Daddy, of course I remembered." I leaned over, kissing him on the forehead. He tipped his head back.

A knock came at the glass.

Thankfully, we weren't in any compromising situation.

"Right," I told him, "I best see to it that those designs are uploaded and sent to the printer."

He kept a hold of my hand. "Ok, but I still want to know where we're going later." He stuck his bottom lip out pouting. "Please. Just one clue."

I was strong willed; he wasn't going to break me easily. But we had eight hours until then, and he was going to test me right up until then.

"You should go sit at your nice desk outside," I said. "I doubt any calls will come through, but if they do, just make a note. Nobody will complain to you." I gave him one more kiss, it was longing for additional reassurance. "And make sure to keep that sweater pulled over your jeans."

Alexi giggled. "You picked my underwear out."

Knowing the lacey underwear he wore, I could've been tempted to give in to him. It turns out my will could be broken, but only if he tried again. I'd just have to make sure he didn't.