After sleeping with Marcus on Saturday night, I stayed at his place Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday. It wasn't the best time. He was still snobby like he had always been, but a little less immature. He was genuinely interested in modeling for the company. He told me about how he actually wanted to start his own modeling agency since he thought thirty was basically geriatric. He would be good at it. Despite being arrogant, he knew the modeling business well.

On Wednesday, Emerson was on the phone when I entered. I nodded at him and went into the office. Something was up with him. Was he shutting me out? He seemed indifferent. Yesterday he left early, which he had every right to do, but it was so out of character for him. I guess it didn't help that Marcus had been kind of condescending to him. Truth be told, I didn't know what to do. I had to keep a professional distance. Maybe that's what he was doing too, but that didn't mean I hated it any less. I just wanted Emerson to sit on my couch and talk to me. He didn't even have to work. I wanted him to live at my house again. I wanted to cook for him. I wanted to hold him tight again. But I couldn't, and that's why I had Marcus with me.

"When was the last time you held a camera?" Marcus asked as we stood on the twenty-third floor. This was the floor where we did our photoshoots.

"It's been a while," I said. I used to take a lot of photos back in the day, when models were auditioning. Marion styled them, judged their runway walk, and then sent them to me to go through a photoshoot. This is what I was doing with Marcus. "Go ahead and sit on the windowsill."

Marcus was wearing our spring collection that was going to launch in March. He was wearing a pair of linen pants with a belt and a button up top left unbuttoned. It was a subtle look, just something to gauge how well he would do. He posed against the window in a few different ways. Hands in pocket, hands against the window sill, sitting on the window sill with his legs open, shirt held over his shoulder, shirt off.

"Do you still have those naked photos of me?" he asked, sitting in a chair now.

"As I recall, you took all of them back," I said, smirking. "I think one may have even been sold to a gay porn magazine, right?"

"Did you buy the issue?" he asked, smirking back.

"Put your leg over the arm," I instructed.

"If you want, I can let you take some for your private collection," he said.

I didn't say anything. Sometimes desire got the better of me. When I stood up, he stood up too, walking over to me. He put his lips on mine. I kissed him back, at first. It was very tempting to fuck him again, but things were getting out of hand. I knew Marcus well enough to know where this was going. He was going to want me to himself. I just wanted him for a distraction. I should've known better than to get involved with him again.

I pulled away. "You're hired," I said. "You can go to HR and fill out the paperwork. You will directly report to Marion."

He smiled, grabbing my belt. "HR can wait, can't they?"

I turned my head when he tried to kiss me again. "If you're going to work for me, any form of a physical or romantic relationship will cease to exist," I said.

His smile dropped. "So, you just fucked me as part of the interview?" he asked.

"No, Marcus, you know that's not the case," I said. "When I went to you, I told you I just wanted to have sex. You were the one adamant on interviewing with Marion. I mean come on, what is this? You want me back? Is that it?"

He rolled his eyes. "No, of course not," he said. "At least, not deep down, but at first, I thought maybe you were actually interested. I just moved back to the city and half of the people I thought I was friends with don't actually care that I'm back here. So I've been kind of lonely and then you texted me. I knew you were just looking to hook up, but then you stayed, and it was actually bearable for once. You've kind of softened up since you've gotten old."

"I'm thirty-two, I'm not old," I said. "I'm sorry for taking advantage of you. I didn't realize you were lonely."

Marcus looked at me up and down. "You've never apologized to me before," he said. "You really have changed."

"I don't think I've changed that much," I said.

"I mean, yesterday you were playing with children," he said. "When we were together, you said you didn't like kids, but you seemed to be having a blast yesterday."

"Well, kids have grown on me. It's not their fault they can be annoying, but the ones yesterday were, you know, adorable. They seemed to like me, too," I said.

"It sounds like you might want to have some of your own one day, which I definitely do not. So, I guess we shouldn't waste our time with each other," he said. 

This was something he liked to do. He liked to take the decision into his own hands. When I dumped him, I told him I never wanted to talk to him again. He begged me to come back to him or to at least be his friend still. As soon as I said we could try being friends, he told me that I was a horrible person and that he was never talking to me again.

"Good. You'll be better suited as an employee than anything else," I said. "Put your clothing back on." I watched him put this shirt on. "You've kind of changed too," I said. "Only a little. You seem...not as mean. Still mean, of course, but a little nicer."

He rolled his eyes. "Well, maybe I've realized that perhaps, all of the friends I thought I had were fake, so maybe if I'm a little nicer I'll make some real friends."

I nodded. "Maybe. You can try being friends with Em. He likes everyone."

I made it back to my office a little before two. It had been a long day, half of it spent on Marion's floor and then with Marcus. I was very hungry, so I ordered some food to be delivered from the restaurant to my office. I went to Em's desk where he was listening to music. I tapped on his desk to get his attention. When he pulled his headphones off without saying anything, staring at me expressionless (which was uncommon for him), I knew something was wrong. "Do you want me to order anything for you from the restaurant? Or have you eaten?" I asked.

"No and no," he said, looking back to his screen.

"No you don't want anything and no you haven't eaten? You've gotta be hungry," I said.

He sighed, annoyed. "I ate a bag of chips and a granola bar that I had," he said.

"Well, let me get you some food," I said.

"No. I already took my forty-five minute break, half of which I was waiting on you. So when I realized you weren't coming I didn't have enough time to go and get anything. So no, I'm not going to eat because I already took my break," he said. "It's Wednesday, remember? We always get lunch on Wednesdays."

"Em, I'm sorry, I completely forgot," I said.

"Yeah, it's fine, I'll just get used to you forgetting, like how you forgot our Halloween plans last night, too." He was mad. I didn't blame him.

"I'm sorry. I was busy with Marcus. I-"

"I know, it's fine. I'll just lower my expectations of you," he said.

"That's mean, Em," I said quietly. I didn't want to let on how much that actually hurt to hear. I didn't want to disappoint him.

"Well, sometimes I just..." His face tightened as he blinked away his watering eyes.

"What is it?" I asked.

He was shutting me out. He never shut me out like this. I knew I had a bad habit of shutting him out, but he wasn't supposed to do it in return. "Nothing," he said. He looked down at his computer. This is when I noticed a bruise on his cheek.

"How did you get that bruise?" I asked.

"It's nothing," he said.

"Did someone hit you?" I asked, going to lift his chin.

He pulled his head away. "It's none of your business how I got this. No one hit me, at least without my consent they didn't."

It was my turn for my face to tighten, but not because I was about to cry. The idea of someone hitting him, bruising his face. How dare they? Even if Em begged me to slap him, I couldn't. His face was too beautiful to bruise. "You can't let people hit you," I said, knowing I was overstepping.

Em glared up at me. He locked his computer screen and stood up. "On second thought, I think I will go ahead and take that lunch, but I'm going out," he said. He started putting on his jacket.

"Em, I'm just saying, your face is too-"

"I don't care, Lafayette," he said. "My personal life is my personal life. You're right, you know, my work-life balance has gotten completely out of whack. I think it would be best if we stop doing dinners and lunches, especially if you're too busy."

I frowned. I hated this. I put my hands in my pockets, my brow furrowed. "Em," I said. "I've just been preoccupied a lot this week, okay?"

"Am I allowed to go on my break? Or are you going to keep me here?" he asked.

"I'm not keeping you here." Was I? "Don't...don't be dramatic." I didn't want to react in anger. I hated being angry. It came so much easier than sincerity.

Em rolled his eyes. "I'm not being dramatic. I'm asking my boss if I can go. Did you forget that you're my boss?" he asked.

"Of course I know I'm you're fucking boss," I said. "Don't you think I realize that everyday? So no, I'm not keeping you, I just-"

He started to walk to the door again.

"Em, stop," I said.

"Anything you say, Mr. Jett."

"No, I want you to stop not because I'm demanding it. I just want you to listen." I was still keeping him. I was in a bind. "Just..." I clenched my jaw. "Fine. Whatever. Just go."

Em glared at me again before turning and walking out.

I went back into my office, slamming the door. I hadn't felt like this since I was a child. I felt...hurt. My feelings were actually hurt, but it was different than when Richard would say terrible things to me. It was different than anyone else ever saying anything mean to me because I didn't care what other people said. I cared what Em said and thought. He was mad at me, and I cared. 

I sat at my desk, putting my head in my hands. What if there was no coming back from this? What if he was forever going to put up a wall with me? What if he quit? The day got worse when Em never came back from lunch. I figured he was just trying to make a point, a valid point, about how I needed to ease up as a boss.

The next day, I arrived a little later than normal. I couldn't wait to see Em, even if he was mad at me. I wanted to apologize and make things right. Maybe he had enough time to himself that he would accept my apology. Except, when I went into the reception area, he wasn't there. It was unlike him to be late. I asked Sasha if she had seen him, but she hadn't. I figured maybe he was trying to prove a point again. So I sat in my office, with the door open. When nine-thirty rolled around, I was worried.

Sharon, the HR manager, called me. "Mr. Jett," she said when I answered. "I just wanted to let you know that Emerson will be using his bereavement today and tomorrow."

"Bereavement? Who died?" I asked. Emerson loved his family.

"He had an aunt pass away yesterday," she said. "He'd like some time off."

"That's fine. Thank you for letting me know. Did he say when the funeral was?"

"It's tomorrow morning."

"Thank you, Sharon."

The next morning, I made a trip up to Ossining.