Breaking Out by Lydia Michaels

Author:Lydia Michaels
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Group, USA
Published: 2013-11-18T16:00:00+00:00

***

Lucian looked over the portfolio Jeff Burnet placed in front of him. He had been staring at it for over five minutes now, seeing the man’s expertise in advertising displayed beautifully in the contrasting colors highlighting the plans and drawing buyers’ eyes to the pros of the project, yet all he wanted to do was tear it to pieces and demand he come up with something better.

It had been four excruciating days, and things had not improved. He’d gotten worse, far worse. He hated being in the penthouse by himself. His first hour home he’d thrown her craft desk and broken it. He asked Dugan to order a new one. Evelyn’s presence was everywhere, on their sheets, in his closet, under his sink. There was no place she hadn’t left her mark.

He decided only to use the penthouse for sleep, coming to the office before the doors opened to the public and working long past closing. He’d taken to having his meals delivered to his desk, dining out by himself for late suppers, and last night he had lost his nerve to go home to his empty condo altogether.

He spent the night at his place of work, sleeping on the stiff couch in his office. He showered and shaved that morning in his executive bathroom and found several suits hanging in his closet, a cautionary expense from his days as a bachelor. Freshly laundered dress shirts hung like empty skins all in a row. The lower drawer of his desk was filled with brand new T-shirts, underwear and socks still in their packaging and tissue. How much longer could he go on like this?

Jeff cleared his throat. “Would you like me to come back, Lucian?”

Lucian turned the page, not really paying much attention to what he was seeing. Jeff had worked for him for almost a decade. He trusted his ideas, which had been validated by their profits over the past several years. “No.”

He turned the page again. Everything was perfect. Lucian could find no room for improvement, which for some reason pissed him off. He shut the portfolio with a slap and met Jeff’s eyes. “Do you feel this is the best you can give me?”

The man’s expression hitched. He seemed to consider his answer before giving it. “I put three months into that, Lucian. It’s everything you asked for.”

“That doesn’t answer the question. Is this the best you’re capable of?”

Jeff frowned. “Do I feel it’s the best I’ve ever done? No, but I’ve done over one hundred pitches for you. Every one can’t be the best or my favorite—”

“Why?” he snapped. “Why shouldn’t everything you put on my desk be the best, Jeff? Do I come in here, day after day, and give only a percentage of what I’m capable of? No. I work my balls off so that things can get done around here and you and all the other people who depend on me can get paid.” His voice had risen by the end of his reply.

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