Page 31 of Bite Me
“Eddie, do you have five minutes?”
Why did his voice affect me so much?
Cat looked at me meaningfully, which I ignored. My heartbeat quickened as I followed Russel into his office. It took my eyes a while to adjust to the darkness.
He closed the door and gestured for me to sit. The intimate setting did things to my underbelly, and my stupid dick tingled. I dug my nails into my palms under the desk.
Lucky for me, Russel’s request was one hundred percent work-related. He turned his laptop screen toward me. It was an initial brief, the kind we sent to the client for approval, together with a budget proposal, before we started working on a project. The language seemed pretty standard, but I frowned at the client’s name.
“So?” Russel asked after I’d read the page.
“Sorry, but I’m not sure what you’re asking. Will I be involved in the campaign?”
He shook his head. “It’s not final yet. The client approached us last night, and Anthony left it to me to decide whether we take him on. I haven’t sent the brief and the quote yet because I want your opinion.”
“It’s a good brief. I don’t have anything to add.” Why was he asking for my five cents? Russel had at least twenty more years of experience than me. He could write a brief in his sleep.
“I’m asking you if we should take the job or not.”
I gaped at him. That wasn’t the kind of decision I was supposed to be involved in.
“Eddie?”
“Honestly, that’s above my pay grade.”
“Yes. I intend to talk to Anthony about your salary when I have a more stable footing in the company. But you do have an opinion, don’t you?” He grinned at me like he could see into my head, like he knew me, and it gave me courage.
“Yeah. I do.”
“So?”
“I don’t think we should work with him,” I said. “I’ve seen him in interviews and at a couple of functions, and he’s bad news.”
Russel leaned back and folded his arms over his chest. For some reason, he looked smug. “Why do you think that?”
“It’s a feeling. A vibe. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Explain, please.”
He asked, so I was going to answer. “He’s rude to female reporters and dismissive of women in general, and that’s never a good sign. If he’s accused of sexual misconduct or worse one day, I won’t be surprised. He jumps in and interrupts people who have way better things to say than he does, says vaguely sexist and racist stuff, and when you call him out on it, he tells you that you should learn to take a joke or starts preaching about living in a free country. His social media feed is just macho posturing and reposting of random conspiracy theories. He’s a bully and a jerk, and I don’t think we should do a campaign convincing people he’s not.”
Russel smiled. “Thank you, Eddie. I’ll tell his rep no, then.”
I couldn’t help but feel suspicious about all of this. “Just like that? Because your most junior hire said so?”
“I had a bad feeling about this one, and you confirmed it. You’re right. We shouldn’t do an image-improving campaign for someone whose behavior will be impossible to justify. Besides…” He put his arms on the desk, staring at me with a crooked smile on his face. “I’m the newest hire.”
Chuckling, I pointed a finger at him. “Not junior. How old are you, anyway?”
Russel’s smile turned sad. “Fifty-seven.”
“Oh.” Had he been human, I would never have guessed him to be more than forty—vampire genes. But he looked tired. There were dark circles under his eyes, and the brackets in the corners of his mouth looked sharper. Those pale golden eyes… “That’s not old for your species, though.”
“No.” He stared back, unmoving.
My throat got dry.
I broke eye contact and braced myself to stand. I had to get out of there. “Do you need anything else from me?” I sounded breathless, but Russel didn’t call me out on it.
