Twelve Days to Love

Susan, his executive assistant, was already there, quietly moving around the reception area as she prepared for the day.

Cain almost smiled. Susan’s personality was the perfect match for his—quiet, calm, and efficient. She never broke under pressure and just seeing her here had a calming effect on Cain’s nerves.

If he wasn’t mostly into guys and she wasn’t his most valued employee… well, no. They really were too much alike for anything besides business.

“Good morning, Mr. Masters,” she said, giving him a polite, business-like nod as he walked past. “There have been a couple of last-minute additions to your schedule today, so I’ve shuffled some meetings this afternoon to accommodate. I’ll have the updated schedule printed out for you in just a moment.”

“Perfect,” Cain nodded. “Thank you, Susan.”

He crossed the reception area and reached his office door, then sucked in a sharp breath as he was nearly knocked over.

“Hey, wait,” Cain called out, stepping to the side as a reed-thin, sandy-haired man darted out of the darkened office. “Stop right there.”

The man froze, but kept his eyes downcast. He looked vaguely familiar from what Cain could see of him. The top third of his face was hidden behind his floppy bangs, and he looked like he was barely out of his teens. Cain was pretty sure the kid worked somewhere in the building, but definitely not anywhere near the executive floor where he was now.

Hell, he looked too young to even be someone’s assistant.

“Who are you?” Cain asked, his brow furrowing as he took a step toward the young man. “Where are you supposed to be and why were you in my office?”

Cain turned to shoot Susan a questioning glance, but for the first time Cain could remember, she looked as surprised as he was.

Shocked, even.

“M-my name is… Jeremiah, sir,” the nervous, lanky young man brushed his bangs back and finally looked up to make eye contact with Cain. “Jeremiah Wright. I was… um… delivering the mail?”

He made it sound like a question. Like even he wasn’t sure how he’d ended up in Cain’s darkened office.

“The mail comes to my desk,” Susan said, looking and sounding more irritated by the second. “It always has. You know that. You’ve worked here for… for long enough to know better.”

Cain was at a complete loss for words as he studied the young man. He certainly didn’t look like a trouble-maker, but Susan was right—he really should have known better than to sneak into Cain’s office.

That was just unacceptable, no matter what his reasoning.

And so far, the guy hadn’t even come up with a good excuse.

Cain had so many questions. The young man looked like a deer caught in headlights—no doubt because he had been caught—but he also looked so vulnerable, so genuinely scared that Cain didn’t want to press the matter too much.

The poor guy might have a heart attack if Cain and Susan kept asking questions.

“I think we can be done here,” Cain said, waving a dismissive hand. “Don’t let this happen again.” He paused, then turned his attention to Susan before adding, “Either of you.”