Chapter 2

Three days later, Peter had to admit that he had really underestimated how much the soulmate nonsense would affect their firm. Most of their employees had requested leave, and when they had been denied, some of them had quit and quite a few threatened to. HR had been working hard, trying to appease the unhappy employees. To Peter’s distaste, in the end they were forced to compromise. They gave everyone some time off but staggered it, to make sure the firm ran smoothly—as smoothly as possible when people had lost their fucking minds. Everyone seemed distracted either by the urge to find their soulmates or the elation at having found them. It was utterly disgusting.

Peter felt like the only sane person in the building. Well, with a few rare exceptions. He was somewhat surprised that Justin didn’t seem affected by the craze, either. Normally his associate had a soft, bleeding heart, and the soulmate nonsense seemed right up his alley. But to Peter’s surprise and pleasure, Justin remained as efficient and useful as ever. Not that Peter ever let Justin know that he considered him useful. Associates needed a firm hand to toughen them up, not praise to stroke their fragile egos.

Though, truth be told, Justin probably deserved some praise—and a nice bonus. Not only did he not let this nonsense affect his work, but he was also more dedicated to his job than ever, working in Peter’s office all night long to pick up the slack of other associates. Strictly speaking, Justin shouldn’t be working in Peter’s office—or sleeping on his couch, for that matter—when he had a perfectly functional cubicle next to the other associates, but Peter decided to take pity on him. He wouldn’t have been able to bear being around those idiots 24/7, either. Besides, Peter had a study in his penthouse in the same building as the offices of Hayes and Turner, so he had no need for his office at night. Justin could sleep in it.

“When will this goddamn spell wear off?” Peter said, glowering at yet another leave request on his desk. A request from a senior partner. He’d had a higher opinion of his partners’ intelligence before this debacle. Only Turner seemed as uninterested in the soulmates bullshit as he was.

Justin looked up from the paperwork he was proofing on Peter’s couch, a yellow marker in his hand. “The North American coven estimates that the spell will last at least another week. Which you would have known about if you didn’t foist the case on me. If only those poor people knew that they’re paying for your ridiculously high billable hours when they should be paying my much lower rates.”

“You’re my associate. You’re here to do the boring work that’s beneath me. I’ll take over the case once we’re at the negotiation table. Until then, you do the grunt work. Your work is mine, because you’re mine.”

Justin stared at him. “I don’t think that’s how it works,” he said faintly, clearing his throat. His face was a little red.

“Besides,” Peter said, dropping his gaze back to the Sabatini merger files. “You’re already a better lawyer than most junior partners, so they have nothing to complain about.”

“Okay, did you just praise me?” Justin pinched himself. “It must be the lack of sleep. I must be losing my mind.”

Peter just scoffed. That was what he got for trying to be nice for a change.

For a long while, they worked in companionable silence. Justin was probably the only person of his acquaintance who didn’t make silence awkward in the slightest. This felt truly companionable. Familiar. They’d spent countless hours in this office sharing space—and sometimes thoughts—as they worked on different things. Peter knew what Justin looked like right now without even looking at him. There was probably a tiny furrow between his brows as he frowned in concentration, and he tended to chew on his bottom lip when he thought. It always looked a little red and swollen because of this habit.

“Can I have tomorrow off?”

Peter snapped his gaze up. “Tomorrow off?”

Justin rubbed at his eyes. “Yeah. It’s Sunday. I know the concept is unfamiliar to you, but people normally leave their workplace for a day or two. It’s called a weekend.”

“We don’t do weekends. In fact, you know as well as I do that most of our clients mess up on weekends.”

“I know,” Justin said with a sigh. “But my brother is arriving tomorrow morning. I haven’t seen Riven in five months, Peter.”

And why should I care? That was what Peter should have said. Instead, he said, “I thought you said he’s a brat who doesn’t want to have anything to do with you?”

Justin pursed his lips, suddenly looking far younger than his twenty-seven years. “He is. But he’s still my baby brother. And I miss him, even if he doesn’t miss me. I barely talked him into spending Christmas with me.”

“It’s not Christmas yet,” Peter said. “There’s no need to take an entire day off. You can take two hours off.”

Justin rolled his eyes with a laugh. “God, you’re impossible. Tomorrow is Sunday . I’m not supposed to be working on Sunday at all.”

“You’re getting paid for your work.”

“Money isn’t everything. I need some me time, Peter. I don’t actually remember the last time I left this building. I swear this couch has permanent indents from my ass. Don’t get me wrong—it’s pretty soft and comfortable, but I actually miss sleeping in a real bed.” He grinned. “Surely you can survive one day without me?”

Peter leveled him with a flat look. “Fine. Have a day off. I expect you here on Monday at seven sharp.”

“Yessir,” Justin said with far too much cheek for someone still working at eight PM on Saturday, and nearly ran out of the room, as though afraid that Peter would change his mind.

Peter scowled and turned his attention back to the contract he had been reading, but try as he might, he couldn’t seem able to focus on it, his mood souring.

Sighing, he rolled his chair back and got to his feet.

He might as well take the evening off. Have a shot of scotch and maybe get laid.