Work Text:
Alastor took a moment to check himself over in the bathroom mirror, grateful the rain had held off until he’d almost made it to Vee Tower. He hadn’t avoided all of it, but at least he was only damp instead of completely soaked through. He’d done what he could with the paper towels in the men’s room and was pleased to see he was still presentable for his first day of his internship.
He’d settled on a white button up, black slacks, and black shoes (sneakers, but Rosie assured him they were appropriately business casual). He’d also opted for the wine red sweater vest she’d bought him for his birthday a few weeks ago. Its quality and subtle argyle pattern elevated the look from broke college student to broke college student who could still somehow afford an outrageously expensive piece of knitwear. Or at least that’s what he hoped.
He couldn’t afford a new suit and the only one he already had, he’d just barely fit into for his father’s funeral six years ago. Rosie had offered to buy him one. He’d refused. Just because her family was well off, didn’t mean he was interested in taking advantage of her generosity.
He shoved his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath before stepping back out into the building’s lobby. He made his way up to the front desk, offering the dark haired woman there a small smile.
“I’m here to see Mr. Voxal,” he offered by way of greeting.
She blinked, eyes briefly darting up and down what she could see of him over the chest high counter. “And you are?” she asked.
“Alastor Doré. I’m his new intern. The recruiter said I should stop by the front desk to get a visitor’s badge since the badge office won’t be open until ten.”
“Do you have your driver’s license or passport?”
He handed his license over and she put it through a small scanner on her desk before returning it. He tucked it back into his wallet while her acrylic nails clacked loudly against her keyboard.
“Thank you.”
She made a noncommittal noise before tapping the top of her monitor. “Look here.”
He blinked but did as she asked and a moment later, she handed him a temporary badge made of thick cardstock, his picture, name, and employee number printed on it. He studied the photo, noting it was somehow a step up from the one on his license.
“Mr. Vox’s office is on the top floor. You scan the barcode on the back of the badge to get in through the security gates. You’ll also use it for the executive elevator and any secure areas you’re allowed to access. Your access will be revoked at the end of the day.”
That seemed excessive, but he kept the thought to himself.
He slid the lanyard the badge was on around his neck and thanked her before heading to the gates she’d indicated. A security guard watched as he approached and scanned his badge. The waist height glass partitions swung open and he made his way to the elevator with more confidence than he felt.
He scanned the badge again to access the “executive elevator,” noting how much fancier it looked inside than the standard fare. Even the elevator music, some kind of mindless lofi, was crystal clear as he was carried smoothly up to the top floor.
The doors dinged open and he stepped into a smaller lobby that looked more like a lounge. Mimzy would have called it bougie, and he was inclined to agree. Various paintings hung in ridiculously ornate frames and the furniture was more modern than functional.
Alastor stopped in front of a portrait of the company’s CEO and his new boss, Vincent Voxal V. He was well aware of what the man looked like, his face was plastered everywhere. This painting, however, made his made-for-tv grin marginally more bearable. It must be fairly recent, too, seeing as there was a touch of gray at his temples.
He’d done some basic research on the man, hoping there was some substance under his television persona.
There wasn’t.
He would be forty-five this year, over double Alastor’s age. Yet, somehow, he felt like he led a more fulfilling life than the billionaire playboy.
He went by Vox in the media and had never been married, though he had an on-again, off-again relationship with the flamboyant CEO of one of the biggest porn studios out there.
While Vox played hard, he also appeared to work hard. Though what he found so fulfilling about working eighty hour weeks and partying the rest of the time was beyond Alastor. He undoubtedly had more money than sense.
He had no strong feelings about the man or his business. He was successful in his own right and sold his own branded tech in addition to running his network and seemed genuinely competent in both, if nothing else. More than could be said for some CEOs. But as far as Alastor was concerned, Vox was just a means to an end.
Alastor had no intention of working for him long term. However, being able to include an internship as the assistant to the CEO of one of the most successful networks in the world was exactly what he needed to get his foot in the door in the industry.
Unlike the nepo babies he rubbed elbows with (Rosie excluded) at his university, he couldn’t rely on his parents’ connections or wealth to make his way in the world. He’d known that to go to college he’d either need to go into debt or qualify for a scholarship, so he’d worked his ass off and managed to land a full ride at his dream school. It didn’t cover everything, but he picked up what else he could playing piano at restaurants and clubs around town and, when his schedule allowed it, picking up shifts as a barista or bartender.
This internship had added more time onto his schooling, but it was worth it, particularly because it was actually paid. He knew he was being underpaid for the type of work expected, but maybe he could save up a little extra now, or at least for the next six months.
He waited a little while longer, but seeing and hearing no one else, he began to wander the floor, familiarizing himself with it.
Everything was modern and state of the art. The kitchenette was more an actual kitchen with ample counter space and stainless steel appliances. All of which were either flawlessly cleaned or rarely (if ever) used. Everything except the outrageously complicated coffee machine and the microwave, that is. The refrigerator held only Vox branded energy drinks (V-Fuel) and bottled water, while the freezer held an alarming array of frozen meals for one, also bearing the Vox logo.
Did the man drink both coffee and energy drinks?
Alastor was beginning to worry his internship may be cut short due to Vox’s heart exploding.
Next he located what must be an executive dining area, which made the full kitchen feel marginally less excessive. An ostentatious executive boardroom with a comically large conference table came next, the wall of windows opposite showing the city skyline.
He’d been told the skyline was beautiful, but he didn’t see beauty as he looked out across it. Just metal skyscrapers filled with reluctant employees and too small apartments. The view of the harbor in the distance was nice though.
He looped back toward the seating area and then toward the executive offices, surprised to find very few doors were closed. Then again, he swore there were cameras pointed in every corner of the floor, in addition to the security measures one had to adhere to in order to make it up here in the first place.
He came to Vox’s office last, not needing to see his nameplate to know it was his. It was the largest of them all. The man had a truly absurd number of monitors on his desk and a veritable wall of flat screen televisions. At present they were all powered on and muted, despite no one being here to watch them.
Alastor gave them only a passing glance, noting most showed what was currently playing on his network. News, reality television, sitcoms, dramas…
He shook his head, circling back toward Vox’s enormous desk. While he had far more tech than any human could truly use, at least he kept things relatively tidy. The metal trash can was filled with empty cans of energy drinks and half full takeout containers.
More interestingly, his center-most monitor included what looked like a to do list. Alastor took out the notebook he used for most everything, scribbling the items down. If he was going to be the only one here for a while yet, he might as well get to work.
A sticky note on the side of the monitor added further context about where to find various files and all needed. Alastor took out the VoxTech branded laptop he’d been sent days before and used his fingerprint to unlock it. He had access to the folders and files mentioned, so he assumed this was within his purview.
Making his way back to the kitchen, he brewed himself some coffee, using the machine as little as possible, and took a seat on one of the stools tucked under the island as he studied the documents and to-do items in question.
He quickly lost track of time as he familiarized himself with everything and waded through Vox’s alarmingly full inbox. After skimming a long chain of back and forth emails that went nowhere, he picked up his cellphone and dialed the number for Carmine Industries.
He spent a large portion of the morning that way, calling people and speaking with them directly, or at least setting up meetings to do so in the near future. He made his own list of to-do items in the process, in addition to sending Vox recaps via email that detailed next steps. He would’ve preferred to speak to him directly, but seeing as it was nearly noon and the man had yet to make an appearance…
Well, he supposed he had earned himself a lunch break. He locked the laptop and put everything in his bag before heading back downstairs to run by the badge office.
The elevator doors dinged open in the lobby and he stepped out and back through security. He made a beeline for his target only to pause when he realized his new boss was just finishing up speaking to the receptionist. He lingered, waiting for him to finish before intercepting him on his way to security.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Voxal,” he offered, already extending his hand.
Piercing blue eyes met his own hazel before the man gave him a slow up and down that seemed wildly inappropriate for the office environment.
Alastor forced his eyes to remain on the man’s face, his smile tightening.
Vox finally took his hand, but rather than shaking it, he brought it to his lips. The only thing that stopped Alastor from yanking it back was his growing confusion, which quickly tipped into stunned shock.
“I’m glad they listened when I told them to send someone pretty this time,” he said with a wide grin.
Alastor finally managed to pull his hand back with a slightly too loud, “I beg your pardon?”
“Oh, you’ll be begging all right,” he leered.
His shock abruptly morphed into rage. “The fuck I will!” he spat.
Rather than apologize or back down, Vox only leaned closer. “Kitten has claws! Oh, I’m gonna enjoy our time together.”
Alastor very nearly clocked him in the jaw for that. Instead he managed to redirect his hand at the last moment, taking his lanyard from around his neck and throwing it in his face. Vox reared back, eyes going wide.
He pulled his laptop from his bag next, shoving it into the man’s middle so hard he gave an audible ’oof’ before scrambling to catch it.
Though he was several inches shorter than the other man, Alastor didn’t hesitate to rock up into his space, as he snarled, “I don’t need this opportunity that badly. In case it wasn’t clear, Mr. Voxal, I quit!”
All Vox managed was an inarticulate squawk as Alastor shoulder checked him and stormed toward and out the lobby’s front doors.
He seethed as he made his way back to the bus stop, hand so tight around the strap of his messenger bag that his knuckles had gone pale. Alastor couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so angry, so offended.
And just like that, everything he’d spent his entire life working for had gone up in smoke. He refused to feel remorse for quitting on the spot. He wouldn’t debase himself for the sake of his career.
By the time he reached the bus stop, his hands were shaking. The enormity of his situation crashed down on him and he leaned against the glass exterior of the bus shelter, eyes sliding closed as he tried to steady his breathing.
His degree didn’t require an internship. He’d applied for one of his own volition. But would he be able to find another now the semester had already started? Would he be able to sign up for enough classes to maintain his scholarship if he couldn’t?
He shoved his glasses up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t rely on the money he was expecting from this anymore. He may have to pick up more hours in one of the local coffee shops or bars. Maybe both. Not completing his degree wasn’t an option. His education was his parents’ proudest achievement and greatest wish for him, neither of them having been able to afford to go to college.
And now everything was in shambles because of some entitled, rich asshole.
His phone buzzed in his pocket and he sighed heavily as he dug it out, seeing Rosie’s name flash on the screen. He also had missed texts from his mother, Niffty, and Mimzy.
Alastor took his earbuds out, sliding one in and answering the call.
“Hey, hon! Wasn’t sure if you’d be free or not, what with today being the big day!”
He grimaced, uncharacteristically finding himself at a loss for words.
There was a beat before Rosie hazarded, “Everythin’ okay?”
“No.” He had to force the word from his throat.
“Oh, shit. What happened?”
Alastor gave a humorless laugh. “I quit!”
“You what?”
The laughter kept bubbling up until he was cackling, eyes watering.
“…that’s not concerning at all,” Rosie said, sending him into a fresh peal of laughter. She waited until he managed to rein himself in before hazarding, “It’s not like ya to just throw in the towel. What happened?”
Alastor wiped mirthless tears from his eyes, struggling to get his breathing back under control before he found himself in the midst of a full blown panic attack. “The CEO of the company commented on my appearance and then heavily implied he intended to fuck me.”
It took a lot to leave Rosie speechless. Almost as much as it took for him.
“I wish I’d actually hit him. I should have.”
“Ya absolutely should not have! The last thing your mama needs is for you to wind up behind bars for beating the CEO of VoxTek to a bloody pulp in the lobby of his own damn tower.”
She wasn’t wrong, but he still itched with the urge. He’d had to put distance between himself and the idiot before he did something he’d come to regret, purely because of the consequences to himself.
Unfortunately his more…unconventional methods couldn’t help him here. Alastor preferred to solve his problems without violence, but he certainly wasn’t above the practice. Rosie was all too aware, having had to pull him off of his fair share of wouldbe bullies while growing up together.
When she hadn’t joined him or been egging him on, of course.
“Where are ya at now? D’ya want me to come pick ya up?”
“Don’t you have class today?”
“I won’t miss anything important.”
“You’re not skipping class,” he protested as he took a heavy seat on the shelter’s bench. He dropped his head into his hand, staring sightlessly down at the sidewalk below.
“Al…”
Alastor closed his eyes, willing his voice into some semblance of normality. “Sorry, the bus just pulled up. I’ll call you later tonight, okay?”
There was a long pause before she said, “Okay. We’ll figure somethin’ out. Try not to stress about it in the meantime.”
“I’ll try,” he answered before hanging up.
He took a shuddering breath, guilt squirming in his gut at having lied to his best friend, but he couldn’t do this right now. He couldn’t talk about this. He needed to fix this and he needed to do it fast.
Fuck. What was he supposed to tell his mother? His mentor? Apparently Zestial and Vox’s father went way back. He couldn’t tell him what had happened. No one would believe someone like Alastor over someone like Vox.
Maybe he’d just give himself a few hours to decompress in his dorm room and then he could tackle this with a more level head. He wasn’t going to get anywhere with his thoughts racing a mile a minute.
Alastor would handle this.
He had to, because he sure as fuck didn’t have any other choice.
Vox stared after the fiery younger man, utterly flabbergasted.
What the actual fuck?
First off, no one talked to him like that. And second, hadn’t he explicitly told the tabloids that if they wanted anymore out of him, they needed to make it worth his while?
Clearly someone hadn’t given this primadonna the memo. And why the fuck had the kid given him his laptop?
He glanced down at it only to freeze when he realized it was one of his own, bearing the company logo, serial number, and everything.
Oh.
Oh, fuck.
Who the fuck was that kid? He knelt to grab his visitor’s badge from the floor, staring down at his smiling face.
Alastor Doré.
Now why did that name sound familiar?
And then the last pieces of the puzzle clicked into place and he felt the color drain from his face.
That hot little piece of ass was his new intern.
He might’ve recognized him if Doré had more than the barest digital footprint. Worse, none of the very few profiles Vox had scrounged up included any photos or videos of himself.
He might’ve dismissed him as a candidate entirely if he hadn’t come so strongly recommended by Zestial, of all people. It took a lot to impress the old timer.
Velvette loved telling him his dick would eventually get him into trouble. Maybe he should have listened.
For a moment he warred between calling the professor or his lawyer, only to do neither as his phone began to ring. He shifted the laptop and badge to one arm as he pulled it from his pocket, blinking down at the caller ID in surprise.
“Hello?” he hazarded on answering.
“Vox, where on earth did you find that new assistant of yours?” Carmilla answered by way of greeting.
Oh, shit, maybe he had reasonable grounds to deflect any potential incoming lawsuits. “Why do you ask?” he hedged.
“Because he’s far too good for you. My daughters are already drawing up an offer letter for him.”
Wait, what?
“Huh?”
She laughed and he couldn’t remember the last time the frigid bitch had been in such a good mood. “I don’t want to know how long it took him to sort through everything for our upcoming event. And he even figured out that sound issue we were having at the venue.”
Vox blinked. “Oh. Uh. Yeah.” He glanced down at the guest badge. “Ol’ Al is just…that good!”
Fuck.
Fuck his fucking life.
“Anyway, I just had to call and let you know you’d better be paying him well because I’m not the only one interested in stealing him.”
“Ha, ha… Well, good luck with that! You’ll just have to collaborate with us more in the future!”
“Oh, my daughters have already been brainstorming on that front.”
Vox’s phone buzzed with another incoming call. Velvette.
Shit.
“I hate to cut this short, Carmilla, but Vel’s calling me.”
“No trouble at all. I need to get going myself. I can finally focus on our other projects now that’s out of the way.”
Vox couldn’t decide if he was grateful or not for the tongue lashing he was about to receive as he switched to the other line. At least Velvette would give him a moment to catch his breath and wrap his head around this new problem.
He held the phone from his ear to protect his hearing, but the yelling he’d expected didn’t come. He cautiously brought it closer.
“Is the phone close enough for you to hear me now?” she drawled.
“…maybe.”
“Good. I want your new assistant. Give him to me.”
What the fuck was going on?
“Oh? Why’s that?” he hedged as he started toward the elevator. He may have been the one who fucked up, but he wasn’t spending his morning chasing that surprisingly competent twink down the street.
“Because you wouldn’t even know how to use him properly. It's like seeing a prize stallion being relegated to a workhorse.”
There was no way this guy was that good.
“Didn’t he just start today?” she continued. “And he’s already fixed things with that bitch Carmine and he managed to get Lilith fuckin’ Morningstar to agree to a meeting with me.”
“He what?”
Velvette had been trying to get through to Lilith for almost two years now. Vox hadn’t even given him any fucking work to do! Hadn’t even been in the building! It was fucking noon!
“So give him to me,” she insisted. “Or, better yet, put him on and I’ll talk to him myself.”
The elevator opened at the top floor and Vox stepped out. He couldn’t let Velvette find out about this. He would never hear the end of it.
“Oh. Sorry, he just went to lunch!”
“Fine. I’ll come to the office and talk to him when he gets back.”
Smooth as he could be in a business emergency, this kind of emergency was not his forte. Vox let his silence last a beat too long while he thought of another excuse. Velvette immediately smelled blood in the water.
“Vox.”
“Uh huh?”
“What did you do?”
He strode into his office and sat down behind his desk, scowling faintly at his lockscreen. It was all the shit he needed to deal with that had been driving him fucking crazy for weeks now. He’d set it as a reminder, hoping it would jog his subconscious or something. Instead his eyes glazed over every time he looked at it.
Except.
Holy shit.
Both the issues with Carmilla and Velvette had been on there, among a few other things. Was that why the kid had started there?
“Vox, I am going to count to ten and if you haven’t answered me by the time I get there, I’m gonna start screaming.”
Shit!
“…do you have anyone free who can maybe run by his place right now?”
He’d call Zestial as a last resort. He was more his father’s friend than his. Anything he told him would go straight from the gossipy old bitch to his father’s ear.
“What. Did you. Do.”
He logged into his computer only to pause again when he saw his inbox was missing a few hundred emails. Before he could panic, he saw new ones from the intern’s address. He clicked on one, skimming its contents.
Straight to the point, yet comprehensive. Easy to read, with next steps and questions clearly listed.
He slumped over, letting his cheek rest on the cool wood of his desk.
“…I thought he was one of the tabloid reporters.”
The silence following the statement was deafening.
“Give me his address. I’ll go and fix what you fucked up and then we’ll both come kill you.”
There was a long pause and then his own voice came over the line. “I’m glad they listened when I told them to send someone pretty this time.”
Fuck. Fuck his fucking life.
How did she even have access to the lobby security feed?
He listened to the short conversation play out, lightly banging his forehead against the desk all the while.
The silence after it finished was somehow even worse.
“Vox,” Velvette finally stated, voice eerily calm.
“…yeah…?”
“If you don’t go apologize to that kid and get him back here, I’m sending him this video along with the name of the best lawyer in the fuckin’ city.”
He jerked upright in his seat. “What?”
“You heard me. And you better get on your knees if you have to. You fucked this up, you fix it.”
“You literally just watched the video, Vel. I’m pretty sure I’m the last person he’s going to want to listen to.”
“You’re right. I’ll go too so you can’t fuck it up any worse than you already have. I just emailed you his HR file. I’ll be there in ten. You better be standin’ out front.” That said, she hung up.
Vox bit back a groan as he sank further into his chair. The last thing he wanted after spending his night out drinking way too much and sleeping way too little was for Velvette to bitch at him for the rest of the day.
He clicked on the email and added the intern and his contact info into his cell. His thumb hovered over the call button before he reluctantly tapped it and switched it to speaker.
It rang so long he thought it had gone to voicemail, but then the line clicked and he received a distracted sounding, ”Hello?”
“Hey! This is Alastor, right?”
There was a brief pause before he cautiously answered, “Speaking.”
He laid the charming and charismatic television host schtick on thick as he continued, “Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot earlier and I—“
The line immediately went dead.
The fucking balls on this kid. He could have him blacklisted from every company even remotely related to the entertainment industry in a heartbeat.
Unfortunately Vox was the one who’d fucked up here, though. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried dialing again. It took three more rounds of hitting the prissy twink’s voicemail before he picked up again on the fourth.
“Stop calling me.”
“Give me five minutes,” he insisted. “If you don’t like what I have to say, I swear you won’t hear from me again.”
He’d hear from Velvette instead. Not that the kid needed to know that.
The pause this time was long enough he thought he might’ve hung up. Finally there was a heavy sigh. “You have exactly three minutes and not a second longer.”
Fine, he could work with that.
“I’m sorry for my behavior earlier,” he began. True only in the sense he was sorry it had led to this.
Alastor stayed silent.
Fuck.
“I thought you were with one of the tabloids that’ve been hounding me for months now.”
More silence.
Was the twerp even fucking listening to him?
“If I’d realized who you were, I never would’ve said those things.”
“You shouldn’t have said them regardless,” he snapped back at him.
Anger. Not ideal, but better than nothing.
“You’re right. I’m running on fumes. I was out late last night and was admittedly not at my best. Normally I’d never say something like that.”
“We both know that isn’t true,” Alastor retorted.
Fucking hell. Vox rubbed at his temples, trying to dredge up what little patience he had left. “Fine, I lied. I still would’ve said that if you were from the tabloid. In my defense, most of the people they’ve sent have been willing to get in my pants for the sake of a few lines for an interview. That’s not how I treat my own employees though.”
There was a soft, weary sigh. “If you’re concerned I plan to file a complaint, I don’t intend to. I sincerely doubt your HR team would take my side, regardless of how egregious your behavior was.”
“Well, yeah, but—“
“Then I don’t know what else there is you could possibly want to discuss with me.”
“Let me make it up to you!” Vox was quick to interject.
“I don’t want anything else to do with you,” Alastor shot back. “I don’t know how much clearer I can be about that.”
“What about a raise?” Everyone liked money, right?
He swore he could feel the man’s disapproval through the phone…
“If you think I’ll let myself be treated like that for the sake of—“
“No, no, no! I will never treat you like that again!”
“You shouldn’t have in the first place!”
Fuck, how was this going so badly?!
There came a click of heels and Velvette made her way over to him, holding her hand out for the phone. Vox bowed his head as he wordlessly handed it over.
“Alastor, right?” she prompted, switching it off speaker. “This is Velvette. You helped me get the meeting with Lilith Morningstar earlier.”
She fell quiet as he replied, absently wending her way around the room.
“I’ve been trying to get her to agree to a meeting for two years now and you managed to get it done in half a day.”
She spun on her heel, shooting Vox a glare.
“There’s no need to give up the entire internship over that idiot. If you’d rather not work with him anymore, I hope you’ll at least consider working with me instead.”
A smile came to her face and she spun away again. “Are you still free now? We can discuss it over lunch.”
She pumped her fist in the air. “Excellent. I’ll send my driver around. I’m the one asking for your time, after all. It’s the least I can do. What kind of food do you like?”
Velvette circled back to Vox’s desk, nudging him and his desk chair aside as she opened up his browser and began furiously typing. Within moments, she had the page up for a Cajun style restaurant with over a thousand favorable reviews.
“Oh, I know just the place,” she insisted.
This close, he could hear Alastor’s voice but not his actual words.
“I’ll have him pick you up at the front of the school,” she said before hanging up and dropping Vox’s phone into his lap. He scrambled to catch it before it could fall the last few feet to the floor.
“Now that’s how it’s done, you fucking idiot,” she snapped. “Call your driver, we’re taking your car to the restaurant. And you’re gonna be on your best behavior, or so fucking help me…”
He held up both hands. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
The look she gave him had sent lesser men running. “You’re coming to prove you can act civilized and to play Daddy Warbucks. Meanwhile I’m gonna have my people brainstorm what we can offer him that he might find appealing enough to put up with your idiot ass again.”
“I already offered him a raise!”
“He’s clearly not the kind you can just wave money at, you fucking numpty!”
Vox glared balefully back at her. “Literally everyone likes money, Vel. It’s what makes the world go round.”
“You really need to try thinkin’ outside the box more,” she retorted as she started out of his office, expecting him to follow after. “People are a fuck of a lot easier to manipulate if you know what they actually want.”
“I don’t think anyone’s that complicated,” he retorted as he stood and strode after her. “I think my only fuckup here was propositioning him.”
“Only,” she said with an exaggerated roll of her eyes.
His driver was waiting for them by the time they made it outside and he opened the door for Velvette, letting her get in first. Thankfully she was too focused on her phone to berate him the whole drive, though the quiet that settled over them was interrupted when she received a call.
“What’ve you got, Ang?” she said upon putting the call on speaker.
Ang? Why did that name sound familiar?
“Not a whole lot, toots. Guy doesn’t spend much time online.”
“I could’ve told you that,” Vox grumbled.
“His ma, however…”
Vox blinked, glancing up from the news article he’d been skimming.
“I found her Facebook. She just celebrated anotha cancer free year. An’ she gushes about her ‘baby boy’ nonstop.”
Velvette snorted softly. “Yeah? Mama’s boy?”
“Looks like it. She’s friends with two other gals that have pics of him too. Some chick named Mimzy and, oh shit, Rosie Vandergelder?”
“What?” Vox demanded.
How the fuck did this nobody know the Vandergelder girl? Her family was nearly as well off as his own!
Neither answered him and Vox scowled as he leaned over to see Velvette’s phone screen. Sure enough, his wayward intern featured heavily in the girl’s photos, which indicated the two of them had known each other since they were teens, if not longer.
“His ma was their cleanin’ lady,” Angie finally offered.
Ah, well, that explained a few things. But if he had a connection with the Vandergelders, Vox’s faux pas might be a lot more serious than he’d thought.
“Are they dating?” Velvette prompted.
“Hmm, dunno! If they ain’t, they’re still pretty damn close.”
No wonder he’d been so pissed off by Vox’s advances…
“Looks like he lives on campus,” Angel added. “In the dorms.”
“Well there’s something we can offer,” Velvette said, glancing up from her phone. “Company housing. At least for the extent of the internship.”
Vox considered the suggestion, nodding. He owned more than just the tower downtown. In fact, his new luxury apartment building was about to open. He and Velvette already lived there. It was a short walk to the office (not that he ever did) and it wouldn’t be hard to get a unit furnished. Or, hell, if this went badly he could offer the kid a stipend or something to buy the shit he wanted for it.
It’d be a hell of a lot cheaper than a fucking lawsuit. Plus, assuming Alastor wasn’t already set to marry into the Vandergelder family, there were plenty of other perks he could offer him to help him show off to his little girlfriend. Like a company car and maybe an actual fucking suit.
Velvette was right, money wasn’t always the answer, but it sure as fuck funded one.
Velvette hung up with Angie and the driver opened the car door for them. Alastor was already waiting for them outside the restaurant. To his credit, he didn’t shy away from eye contact with Vox. He had one hell of a set of balls on him. Most people were ready to piss themselves over something as simple as bumping into the boss man.
Fuck, maybe he was already in contact with his girlfriend’s lawyer… They’d likely want to settle rather than go to court, but keeping things quiet would be all the more expensive for it.
Velvette made her way over to him, her head barely reaching his shoulders. “If it ain’t the man of the hour!” she offered cheerily, extending a hand.
His smile shifted into something more genuine as he shook her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”
“I know you southerners like your sirs and ma’am’s but I’m not old enough to be a ma’am yet. Velvette is fine.”
“Right, I’ll keep that in mind,” he said before glancing over to Vox. His smile vanished entirely.
“Hey there, Al!” he said, extending his hand.
“It’s Alastor,” he answered, making no move to take it.
Vox’s eye twitched and Velvette had the fucking nerve to giggle.
“This place all right, love?” she said, gesturing to the restaurant.
“More than,” Alastor insisted, perking up.
“Ever been here before?” she asked as she started toward the door.
“I have, actually,” he said, quick to open it for her. He passed through immediately after, almost letting the door hit Vox in the face.
This fucking kid…
Not that he could complain too much, seeing as walking behind him gave him a front row seat to his ass. Fuck, the things he could do with him…
“Such a gentleman,” Velvette was saying as the hostess led them to one of the private rooms.
They sat with Velvette and Vox on one side of the six person table and Alastor on the other. The bastard had the nerve to pull Velvette’s chair out for her before taking his own seat directly across from her.
She shot Vox a smug look before returning her attention to him. “Have you ever modeled before?” she asked, studying what she could see of him and likely already taking mental measurements.
“No, I haven’t.”
“Hmm. You should. You’ve got the perfect silhouette for it.”
Vox had spent enough time around her to know she wasn’t just blowing smoke. His lithe frame, small waist, and six feet or so in height made him a great candidate. He’d probably fit into most of her outfits with minimal tailoring and he was pretty enough to get away with the more androgynous and feminine looks too.
“That’s very kind of you to say,” he answered, clearly not believing it.
Velvette grinned. “I’m serious, Al. Even if you decide you’re not interested in resuming your internship, I’d love the chance to have you walk for me.”
He looked genuinely surprised by the offer, but was quick to school his expression. “Thank you. I’ll definitely consider it. Of course if my friend finds out, I might not have a choice.”
“Oh? Girlfriend?”
He snorted softly. “No. But she’s a big fan of your work. She’s bought most, if not all, of your pieces.”
Velvette preened at that. “Well, she has excellent taste!”
Vox briefly considered kicking her under the table. He decided against it upon recalling she was wearing stilettos.
“Your sweater vest looks like one of mine, actually.”
Alastor glanced down as if reacquainting himself with it. “It probably is. I’m not as well versed in fashion as she is, but she did buy it for me.”
Their waiter arrived with their drinks, sparkling water for Velvette, sweet tea for Alastor, and rum and coke for Vox. He took a fortifying sip, grateful to find the bartender hadn’t skimped on the liquor.
He had a feeling he was going to need it.
They gave their orders and their waiter jotted them down and left to put them in with the kitchen.
“So,” Velvette said, switching gears. “You had a pretty awful first day thanks to this one, yeah?” She tilted her head toward Vox and he had to force himself not to glare at her.
“Unfortunately,” Alastor said, not bothering to look at him. “I’d like to think behavior like that is an outlier, but seeing as it came from the CEO himself…”
“That’s fair,” she said. “Though I believe this is the first and only time he’s ever insulted an employee like that. I’m sure I would’ve heard about it otherwise.”
Vox took another sip of his drink in an attempt to avoid grinding his teeth.
“I should hope so.”
“I didn’t invite you out here just to try to make things up to you. You do fantastic work. I appreciate that and would like to see it rewarded. I’d hate to lose such a talented employee. So, what can we do to convince you to give VoxTech another shot?”
Alastor’s eyes widened a touch behind his glasses and…was he fucking blushing?
It was hard to tell, just the faintest bit of color in his cheeks, but Vox swore he was.
Praise kink much?
The kid took his time mulling the question over. Vox waited for both shoes to drop at once. Here was the moment he showed his true colors.
“I appreciate you buying me lunch,” Alastor finally replied. “That and a face-to-face apology, with the reassurance the incident will not be held against me for the duration of my internship would be sufficient.”
Velvette blinked back at him. “That’s it?”
He nodded as he met her gaze and then Vox’s. “Yes.”
“Not a very good negotiator, are you?” Vox grumbled.
Alastor’s eyes hardened. “Any success I achieve will be because of my own merit. Not because it was handed to me.”
Vox narrowed his eyes back at him. Was that supposed to be a dig of some kind? “I worked my ass off for what I’ve achieved!”
“I know. Which is why I expected better of you.”
That brought him up short. Most people assumed he’d gotten where he had because of his family ties and money. Sure, both had granted him a much better place at the starting line, but no one he employed worked harder than he did. And Alastor wasn’t just saying that either, seeing how he’d been perfectly happy insulting him straight to his face.
Goddammit.
Vox took a breath, running his hand through his hair before meeting those steely hazel eyes.
“I’m sorry, Alastor. For the way I acted earlier. And for being a little bitch about it after the fact. Velvette’s right. You made significant headway in a short amount of time on projects that have been stalled out for months and even years. I understand if you’d rather not work with me directly, but I hope you’ll at least consider giving Velvette a shot.”
He wasn’t sure which of the three of them was more stunned by his admission.
Alastor recovered first. “Thank you for the apology. I’m willing to give VoxTech, and you, a second chance.”
That brought a genuine smile to Vox’s face and he extended a hand to him. Alastor actually took it this time, his grip strong as they shook on it.
“You’re still getting perks,” Velvette cut in. “After seeing what you’re capable of, we’re gonna run you ragged.”
Alastor was already frowning. “I don’t need any—“
“Your campus is, what, half an hour by car to the office?”
Alastor’s brow furrowed. “Something like that. Why?”
“You’ll be working some early mornings and late nights. I doubt you’ll wanna drive all that way to and from.”
“I don’t have a car.”
Vox blinked back at him. “How the fuck do you plan to get to work then?”
“The bus.”
“How long does that take?”
“What does it matter?”
“Says here forty-five minutes without traffic, but usually closer to an hour,” Velvette chimed in.
Fucking hell.
“What about a five minute walk to the office instead?”
Alastor’s frown deepened. “My room and board is covered under my scholarship.”
“So?”
“What do you mean so?”
“How’s that any different from company housing? Your internship is supposed to last a whole year, isn’t it?”
Alastor pursed his lips.
Christ, why was it an uphill battle getting him to agree with any of this? Most people would be chomping at the bit.
“What if we meet you where you are now?” Velvette prompted. “Covering room and board, just closer to the office.”
Some of the tension eased from his frame. “I suppose that would be fair.”
She grinned and winked at Vox as their waiter returned with their meals, Alastor’s attention immediately redirecting to his food.
There! Crisis averted.
Piece of cake!
Unfortunately for him, Vox soon realized the only cake he would be getting for the foreseeable future was what covert glances he could sneak of his new intern’s ass.