Page 2 of Heartstrings & Hijinks

Gregory

I opened the report that I had to review and focused.

Despite the late hour, I figured I’d get this task started and probably finished before calling it a day.

I ought to be heading home, being that it was Friday night, and I was the only one in the office—save for a few of the late-night crew that were working on deadlines, like my coworker Mark and his assistant Sawyer.

Alas, I wanted to get this done, because if I didn’t finish it here, I’d probably work on it tomorrow, and I promised myself I’d at least have one weekend of not working.

Mark and Sawyer were in the office across from mine, both diligently working away on whatever project they had.

Most everybody had trickled out by now, though.

They gave me awkward smiles and waves as they left, like perhaps they shouldn’t be leaving before the boss for the weekend.

In reality, everyone should leave the office before me. I should be the last to go home.

I really shouldn’t be working this late into the night. But what else did I have? My home was empty and cold. The white walls and black furniture had seemed so modern and fun when I picked them out after buying my apartment years ago. Now, they were just boring—like the rest of my life.

All I had was this business, and it showed.

If someone had told me twenty years ago, when I was fresh out of college, that I would be the grumpy CIO of a multimillion-dollar corporation with no life outside of it, I would have scoffed.

I was never gonna be the grumpy one in the office.

The CIO thing made sense, but I wasn’t going to be the stereotypical jackass boss.

My business was going to have a great culture.

Lots of fun. Everybody left by five. Perfect work-life balance.

My reality was very different than my young, newly graduated fantasies.

HR assured me that our satisfaction rates were up with all employees.

People loved to work here. So apparently, they had a work-life balance—or at least they didn’t hate their jobs.

I didn’t hate mine either, I just didn’t have anything outside of it.

I was about halfway through the report. My office was growing darker, now that the sun had gone down, and I hadn’t yet turned on the overhead light. That was when my phone rang.

Not many people called me, least of all on a Friday night.

Text message was my preferred method of communication.

I was old enough that I even preferred email.

I glanced at the phone, surprised to see Evan’s name on the caller ID.

I hadn’t even realized his name and number were saved in my phone, though it did make sense.

He was my best friend’s younger brother, and one of our best financial analysts.

My adrenaline spiked. The only reason Evan would be calling me was if something was wrong with Greg.

Greg was on a ski trip to some such place.

He was due back in two days. Had something happened?

Greg was my closest friend as well as my business partner.

It would make sense for Evan to call me if something happened.

I stared at the phone a little too long, then scrambled to pick it up and answer it before it could go to voicemail.

“Hello?” I said, my voice coming out rough.

How long had it been since I’d spoken out loud to anyone? Probably too long. I had been cooped up in the office for several hours. Had I even eaten lunch today?

“Is this Greg?” A woman’s voice came across the other line.

I didn’t quite know how to answer that. Technically, my name was Greg. I preferred Gregory. But if this was Evan’s phone, perhaps they were looking for his brother?

“This is Gregory Alton,” I said. “Why do you have Evan’s phone?”

“Oh, well, that’s complicated.” She let out an awkward laugh. “Umm.” Background noise filtered through the phone, loud music and lots of talking.

“Is Evan all right?”

“Sort of. He needs someone to pick him up.”

I knew through the grapevine that on Friday nights, Evan and his crew would go out to the bar for drinks after work. I had no idea how late they stayed out or how much they had to drink. It was none of my business.

It seemed awfully early to be so drunk that he couldn’t drive, and it didn’t seem like Evan’s style. And why would he call me?

“Ma’am, can you start at the beginning? Tell me plainly what has happened. Does Evan need a sober driver?”

“Sort of? Well, here’s the thing, Evan was a hero, really. His bravery is unmatched. He drank a drink that was spiked with a drug meant for me because my date is a scumbag, and, well, now Evan’s feeling the effects of the drug.”

Of all the things I’d expected her to say, that was not one of them. “What the fuck?!” I exclaimed. “I’ll be right there. Tell me where you are exactly.” Evan had been drugged?

“Oh, we’re at the Heist. It’s on—”

“I know where that is,” I said. I knew it well. I knew way too much about Evan and what he did. I knew that he frequented that bar and a little piano bar over on the south side. He and his friends spent their weekends enjoying karaoke, a pastime that I didn’t understand.

“I can be there in ten minutes. Does he need medical assistance? Should the police be called?”

“Oh, the police have already been here and arrested the scumbag, and Evan was cleared by an EMT to sleep it off.”

“Right. Okay.” Thank goodness. My breath whooshed from my lungs in relief, and the vice grip of emotions that had my stomach in knots loosened.

Evan always held an… interesting place in my heart.

He was the fun-loving type of guy who everyone said hi to in the office.

He organized potlucks, always made sure that everyone’s birthday was acknowledged, and he brought in donuts.

A lot. So much so, that I worried he was going to put himself into financial trouble because he was buying gourmet donuts by the dozen and yet no one else pitched in.

Sending the email telling him to stop buying donuts hadn’t been the best plan. Pretty sure that didn’t paint me in the best light.

I grabbed my coat and left my laptop. I didn’t have time to wait for it to shut down, then I left. I called the front desk while the elevator took me down to the lower level and had them bring my car around. Thankfully, they worked quickly.

Evan sacrificing himself to help someone else, someone he didn’t even know, totally tracked. He was selfless like that. Couldn’t say that I condoned drinking an unknown substance, though. That part had been dangerous.

For years I have fought the attraction I had toward Evan.

I had even tried—not very hard—to encourage Greg not to hire him.

Evan’s skills were too good to pass up, though, and I vowed not to cross that line.

Not only was he my best friend’s brother, but he was also an employee at my company.

That made him doubly off limits. I could be in the same office with him and not act on my attraction. It wouldn’t be that hard.

But it would be lonely as hell.

Maybe that was why I turned into a cynical grump.

Within minutes, I was pulling into the parking lot of the Heist bar. This definitely wasn’t on my bingo card for Friday night, but it beat reading reports.

Now, what exactly kind of trouble did my Evan get into this evening?