2. Baylen

Chapter two

Baylen

“ Y eah,” I murmur, my mind miles away from the conversation in my ear. I stare through my open door, waiting for Milo to get back with my lunch. Our interaction plays over and over in my head. Gods, I really was a jackass, wasn’t I?

I’m not what people would call a people person. Interacting with people is hard as fuck, it always has been. I’m good with strategy and marketing and numbers. Those things tend to stay the same but people? People are always changing. When I finally get the hang of one social norm, bam, they’ve somehow changed the rules again and I’m left floundering all over.

I’ve learned to just stick with what I’m good at. I’m good at what I do, I’m good at keeping this business going, and I’m good at keeping my cool despite all the stress that comes with being CEO.

I lean against my desk, picking up a rubber band and playing with it between my hands as I listen to Glenn Green talk my ear off about his new restaurant. The man is a celebrity chef. Most people would be dying to listen to him talk, yet I can’t seem to get myself to focus, too busy worrying about the impression I’ve just made with my new assistant.

Jesus, he must think the worst of me. At the same time, I can’t help but marvel at his tenacity, at the way he didn’t take my shit and handed it back to me. I’ve only just met him but I already respect the hell out of him.

That’s without even thinking about the fact that Milo is gorgeous .

Fuck, I have to keep my thoughts in check. It wouldn’t be right for me to be lusting after my new assistant, no matter how temporary this position might be. I have to keep myself focused on what’s important; and that’s keeping this company running smoothly. It’s what I was raised to do. It’s what’s expected of me.

“So you’ll be there, Baylen?”

I startle as I realize my mind has drifted during the call. That never happens. “Sorry, say that again?”

“You’ll be at the grand opening, right?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I tell Glenn. “Make sure you have your assistant forward any and all details to my assistant so he can arrange everything for me.”

“Of course. I’ll have her send everything to you by the end of the day.”

“Brilliant.” For reasons that I don’t understand, my stomach leaps into my throat as the elevator doors open and Milo steps out. I watch him walk through the hallway and into our office, looking him up and down before he notices I’m checking him out. He’s got a styrofoam container in his hands with a soda balancing on top of it. “My lunch has just arrived so I’ll have to say goodbye, Glenn.”

“Sounds good. Have a good rest of your day, Baylen. We’ll speak again soon!”

I hang up the call before taking out my ear pieces and tossing it onto my desk. I move from my place leaning against my desk to sit down instead. Opening my laptop, I pull up the hundred of emails I still need to go through. I can look through them while I’m eating.

“Here you are, boss man,” Milo says as he steps into my office, giving me a wide smile. “The man running the food cart outside said this was your usual and he hopes that you enjoy.”

“I’m sure I will,” I murmur, my eyes catching an important email that’s just come in. Fuck, I really need to respond to this as soon as possible. “And call me Baylen or Mr. Ongash. My name isn’t ‘boss man’.”

“Understood. Enjoy your lunch, Mr. Ongash.” Milo sets my food on the desk along with my soda and debit card before walking away. I chance a glance in his direction, my stomach souring as I realize how tense his body is as he goes. Did I do that? Did I upset him somehow?

I’ve never understood nicknames and why someone would want to call me anything other than my name. Is he mad that I asked him not to use a nickname?

Jesus, why do I even care? What is it about this guy that has me suddenly spinning like a top? Why can’t I figure him out like I figure out marketing strategies? People are way too complicated.

I open my lunch and dig in as I answer this email, careful not to spill anything onto my keyboard. I type out a response, CC’ing the department head so they can also see my answer before closing that email out and moving onto the next one. I go on like this until my entire lunch is eaten.

Once that’s all gone, I throw out my trash and make my way to the bathroom to clean up. I have a few meetings this afternoon that I can’t be looking sloppy for. It would be embarrassing if I had something in my teeth or food on my face.

Passing Milo’s desk, I glance over, finding him concentrating on his screen, his brows furrowed as he goes through the colossal amount of emails that are usually directed at Martha. I make a mental note to give her a raise when she comes back for dealing with so much on my behalf.

I make quick work of using the bathroom and cleaning myself up. As I look into the mirror, I freeze. The sight before me leaves me off-centered. There are dark circles under my eyes and despite my skin looking amazing due to my rigorous moisturizing routine, I still see wear and tear. I’m getting older. Or maybe the stress of this job is finally catching up to me.

My father passed away a few years ago. Heart attack. Sometimes I wonder if being the last CEO was the thing that caused it. I take care of myself religiously, walking, working out, and eating healthy. I don’t smoke or drink. Yet, there’s a little voice in the back of my head whispering it’s not enough.

I splash some cool water on my face to chase those worries away. Worrying about these things won’t actually change anything other than give me worry lines on my face.

On my way back through, I find the same confused look on Milo’s face as before. I stop at his desk. “Is everything alright?”

Milo startles, looking up at me with wide eyes. “Yes! Everything is fine. I’m just - “ his voice drifts off for a moment. He looks almost guilty. “I’m just going through some of these emails, that’s all.”

I lean down and look at his screen. “Oh,” I say, realizing what’s going on. He doesn’t want to get Martha in trouble, but he doesn’t know how to deal with all her personal emails. “It’s okay. We have a rule about not using your company email for personal things but Martha likes to subscribe to certain newsletters. I let her get away with it because she’s the only one who can properly wrangle me and everything I come with.”

Milo clears his throat, looking up at me. This close, I can make out the details in his dark eyes past his dark frames. They might actually be the prettiest brown I’ve ever seen with the tiniest specks of golden that make them look like they sparkle.

“That’s kind of you to allow it,” he says softly. Then he looks back at the screen and sighs. “It’s just a little overwhelming with everything else.”

“You can always block those addresses from your email. That way they still go to Martha’s account but will be blocked when they try coming to yours.”

Milo goes into his settings, starting to do just that. Then he smiles back at me. “Thank you, Baylen. This is the perfect solution.”

“You’re welcome. Martha and I usually had team meetings every morning, if that’s something you think would be helpful. We can go over my schedule for the day and make sure we’re on the same page.”

“I’d like that.”

I nod my head. “Okay. Good.”

I turn on my heels and walk towards my office but not before getting a noseful of something I can only describe as delightful. It’s warm and homey, like a worn book in my lap and a hot cider in my hand. Is that Milo’s cologne? I have to admit, I really, really like it and want to smell it again.

Oh geez, is that creepy? Wanting to sniff someone?

I quickly lock that particular thought away as I jump back into my work. The rest of the afternoon flies by in a flurry of emails, phone calls, and meetings. One meeting leaves my teeth on edge. Apparently I have to continue to fight for my employees to have proper pay. Some people on the board think it would help costs to lay people off while I know for a fact that the heart of any company is its employees and to keep those employees we have to actually pay them a living wage.

Sometimes these old men have to get their heads out of their asses and realize just how privileged they are. Occasionally, I worry they’ll see me fight against them on these matters and they’ll realize how easy it would be to vote for a new CEO. Thankfully, that hasn’t happened so far. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m my father’s legacy or if they actually see how much we’ve grown since I’ve taken over. Either way, I’m glad to have this position and I’ll fight to keep it.

Getting back to my office, I pull out my flat treadmill, setting it up on the floor beside my desk before making a few final phone calls. I want to get my steps in before I head home.

A knock on the door makes me look up. “One moment, Charles.” I wave Milo in. “Yes, Milo?”

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m going home for the night.”

I check my watch, startling as I realize it’s already five thirty. When the hell did it get so late? “Thank you for letting me know.”

Milo pauses for a moment. Then he looks at the floor, shaking his head. I feel like I’ve once again missed something. “Have a good night.”

“Thank you.” Then I quickly add, “you too.”

Mile gives me a small smile before leaving my office. I watch as he packs up his things and heads towards the elevator. I don’t understand the swirling of emotion going on inside of me so I do my best to push it down. If I don’t think about it, it’ll probably go away. I touch my earpiece, joining my call once more. “Sorry about that, I’m back.”