They’d been working on getting their childhood sanctuary up and running again far too long for Zack to not be impatient. Starting Frantic had been Max’s dream, one Zack had helped him with from square one; reopening Ringside Boxing was Zack’s, and he’d be damned if anything would stop him.
Max downed his beer far too quickly and tossed the bottle in a recycling bin. “My investor said he was looking to find some new LGBTQ businesses to invest in around Toronto. He’s got connections, and Ringside has solid PR opportunities given what you’ve planned. The teen programs are also great advertising to have at schools. We’ll make this happen.”
“We better.”
Max frowned. “What the hell crawled up your ass and died? You’re more of a jerk than usual.”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit. You look like you’re ready to run a marathon or take on crime or something.”
Max had been his closest friend since they’d met at the original Ringside gym when they were both sixteen. If anyone could tell when Zack was on edge, it was Max. “I just don’t want anything to screw this up.”
Along with their friend Eli, the three of them had spent the better part of their high school years as part of an LGBTQ teen-outreach program at Ringside. Max and Eli had used boxing as a way to develop their self-confidence and learn how to defend themselves. Zack had never lacked either of those skills, even at a young age. No, he’d used his workouts at Ringside as a way to funnel the buildup of emotions that constantly swirled inside him. Sparring in the ring had helped him learn how to direct that charge outward and stop himself from losing his shit on his parents, friends, and teachers.
Russel Kinson, the previous owner of Ringside, had done so much for so many people over the years that a piece of Zack had broken when he’d died and the place shut down. How many more kids and troubled youth could have been helped in the intervening years? How many more like himself, Max, and Eli?
Despite what everyone thought about him, working at Compass Technologies wasn’t his life’s goal. It was little more than a means to an end. Within the next year or two, he wanted to walk away from all things technology and spend his days helping people the way Russel had helped him.
Max started taking clean mugs from the wash tray and stacking them in the bar. “So what happened at work to get you all riled up? That boss of yours on the warpath again?”
The image of a too skinny and pale Nolan flashed through his head. “I hired an assistant.”
“Jesus. I thought you swore you wouldn’t do that to someone else again?”
“It was an impulsive hire.”
“Nooo. You’d never do anything like that.”
Zack growled. “He’s different from the others, though I doubt that I’ll keep him. Better to have HR rehome him before I chew his head off.”
“Whoa, back up. You hired a male assistant?” Max leaned over the bar and grinned. “Is he cute?”
“He’s way too thin and not even remotely my type.” God, he couldn’t imagine anyone further away from the sort of man he was attracted to; Nolan lacked confidence, didn’t have that edge Zack looked for in a partner. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have sex with someone like that. He liked it rough, fucked the same way he fought both in the ring and in business. Nolan would no doubt be overwhelmed by everything Zack would want. Not that he was into any kinky shit, but he liked things hard and fast: fucking, not making love.
Max clicked his tongue. “Huh.”
“What?”
“Nothing. You’re just full of surprises.”
Zack’s cell chose that moment to sound off. “Shit.”
“What?”
The notification tone he’d specifically assigned to Samantha Rollins told him who’d emailed without his having to look at the name. Problem with the Korean shipment of the network appliance. “I have to head back to the office.”
“Something wrong?”
“Nothing I can’t handle.” He was the best at putting out fires, a skill set Samantha had taken advantage of for the past three years. “But I won’t be stopping in tonight.”
“Good, that’ll leave some of the hot guys for me for a change.”
“Like you’ve ever had a problem with that before.”
“I take it your assistant won’t be with you this evening?”
“No. Starts Monday.”
“That’s good. Don’t want to burn the poor boy out before he’s even gotten his feet wet. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear from my investor and I can set up a meeting between the two of you.”
“Thanks. I’ll talk to you next week about it.”
Traffic had kicked up considerably since his arrival, as people began their treks home from work. The buses and subway would be packed, but faster than a taxi. Still, Zack flagged the closest one down, not wanting to deal with the off and on and jostling of bodies.
The moment the door closed and the cab pulled into traffic, Zack knew it had been a mistake. Being stuck in the backseat with nothing but his thoughts was liable to drive him nuts. He pulled out his phone and read through Samantha’s email, ensuring he had a grasp on the situation. Someone else had screwed up, and she needed him to smooth things over. Typical and easy enough to sort through.
A new email popped onto the top of the screen from Nancy in HR.
New Hire Confirmation: Nolan Carmichael
Nothing was set in stone yet. He could easily brush the entire incident off and Nancy would no doubt find another role for the man, or at the very least let him down easy. Zack had no illusions about how difficult he was to work with. Nolan seemed like a decent sort, and shouldn’t be subjected to him.
No one should.
He hit Reply, his thumbs poised over the screen keyboard to tell her never mind, that it had been a horrible idea.
And yet.
God, he couldn’t put his finger on it, but there’d been something about Nolan—about the way he’d looked in the bathroom, scared and lost—that spoke to him. Zack had been that way once, back before Russel had taken him in at the gym as part of his program. Nolan might not exude the same confidence Zack had, but neither had he shied away from him once Zack hijacked the interview. Nolan had held his gaze, given concise answers to his questions, and didn’t once look as though Zack was the Devil incarnate.
That was more than he could say for most employees at Compass.
Running on the same impulse that seemed to have been at his back all day, he typed out a terse acknowledgment. Nolan Carmichael, for good or ill, would start Monday morning as his new assistant.
Zack could only hope he wasn’t making a mistake. For both their sakes.
By the time Sunday afternoon rolled around, Nolan was exhausted. Background checks, reference calls, paperwork that demanded reading and signatures had filled the time from nearly the moment Zack had left the interview room on Friday. In between doing the various things he needed to for Compass, he’d called his parents to let them know the good news. Tina had been so excited she’d even taken him out for supper last night, though he really didn’t remember much of the food.
His head had been rolling through the series of events that had led him to this moment. What had Zachary Anderson seen in him to warrant such an impulsive hire? Sure, Nolan was skilled, but there’d been nothing in their brief encounter, either in the bathroom or in the interview itself, that should have set this in motion.
Had there?
Nancy from HR currently sat across from him at the Starbucks they’d agreed to meet at to go over the last-minute details. He’d tried to tell her it wasn’t necessary, but he got the impression that HR did things differently for high-ranking executives, including how their hires were dealt with. His coffee mug sat untouched between them as he read through what must have been the most boring document in the history of HR manuals. He only looked up when she started to chuckle. “What?”
Nancy was devoid of makeup and dressed far more casually than during the interview. The natural look was stunning and gave her a glow that hadn’t come through when they’d first met. Especially when she smiled. “You. I get the feeling you’re completely overwhelmed by everything that’s going on.”
There was the understatement of the century. “I haven’t slept through the night since the interview.” Setting the papers down, Nolan leaned forward. Despite everything he’d read, there was one question he knew he wouldn’t find the answer to there. “Is he really that horrible?”
Nancy’s smile faltered. “Zack can be . . . demanding.”
“You’re being polite. I can’t have you be polite. I need to know exactly what I’m going to be walking into tomorrow morning so I don’t have a panic attack. Because, believe me, my imagination is far worse than whatever the truth probably is.”
Nancy shook her head. “Okay. Zack can be a demanding asshole. He’s hard to get to know, shows little concern for anyone or anything outside of the company. In the eight years I’ve worked at Compass, I haven’t heard anyone say that they like him. Respect his work ethic, admire his ability to solve problems and get things done, stand in awe of his seemingly boundless energy. But not actually like him. His previous assistants have all quit or been fired within two weeks of starting. In their exit interviews they said Zack had trouble delegating and rarely gave out praise, which a lot of people have problems with.”