Pushing open his office door with one hand, Jackson Lewis used the other to loosen his perfectly knotted tie. He sighed with relief as it came unraveled and he unfastened the top button of his white shirt, enjoying the freedom it gave him to finally breathe.
He hated wearing suits. Or any formal wear. He felt so much more at home in the jeans and t-shirts he usually wore in the office. But as the owner of Lewis Security Systems, when it came to visiting clients he had no choice. They wanted to know the company they paid to manage their cyber security was led by somebody serious. If it took a suit and tie to persuade them, then that’s what he’d do.
His assistant, Lisa looked up from her desk, shaking her head as he undid the rest of his buttons and shrugged off his shirt.
“What did I say about stripping in the office?” she asked, her mouth lifting into a grin. “I don’t want to see that kind of thing.”
“I’m wearing a t-shirt underneath.” Jackson threw his shirt onto the hook by the door. He stopped by her desk and ran his hand through his thick, dark hair. “Did I miss anything while I was out?”
“About a thousand phone calls and a million emails. The usual. I’ve marked anything urgent in your inbox.” Lisa had been working for him for five years. Previously, she’d worked at Newton Pharmaceuticals, the main employer in their small California beach town of Angel Sands. He’d poached her from Newtons at the same time he’d left the pharmaceutical company to start up his own business, knowing despite her penchant for mothering him, he couldn’t run this office without her. “Have you had a chance to look at those résumés I sent you?”
“What résumés?” he asked, walking over to the coffee machine. “You want one?” he asked, as he grabbed a mug.
“The résumés I sent you last week.” Shaking her head, she pushed her desk chair back on its wheels and stood. “And I’m supposed to be getting you coffee. You have this whole boss-employee thing backward.”
He ignored her and poured a second cup, passing it to her. “Consider it an apology for not reviewing the résumés.”
“You really need some more staff. We can’t go on like this.” Lisa sighed, following him to his desk. “You’re working seven days a week. I feel exhausted just watching you.”
“I know. I get it. I just haven’t had time to recruit and train anybody.” He took a sip of his coffee, closing his eyes as the bitter liquid ran down his throat. “It’s a catch-twenty-two situation.”
Right now, Lewis Security Systems employed seven people. Jackson, Lisa, plus five programmers who mostly preferred to work from home, though they came into the office once a week for a team meeting. But even with everybody working every waking hour, they couldn’t keep up with the demand for their services. In the past few years, he’d grown a reputation for creating unbeatable security systems. Which was why he wasn’t only wearing damn suits to meetings, but on the weekends he was in front of his laptop, programming like the rest of them.
It didn’t give him a lot of time for anything else.
“If you give me a shortlist, I’ll do the first interviews,” Lisa suggested. “After that, I’ll arrange for three of them to come and meet you. It’ll take half a morning at the most. And think of all the time it’ll save you in the long run. You need some free time. You’re a man in his prime.” She shrugged.
He grinned. “Thanks. I think.”
“Seriously though, please look at them.”
“I will.” He promised. “Was there any other urgent calls?”
“Your mom.” Lisa grimaced. “She wants you to call her back. I told her you were in meetings all day.”
Jackson sighed. “Did she say what she wanted?” Not that he needed to ask. It was always about money. He had it and she needed it. Theirs was the ultimate transactional relationship. He wouldn’t be surprised if she started demanding mortgage payments for the fact she’d rented him womb space thirty-three years ago.
“No, but I didn’t ask either. I cut her off, to be honest. Sorry.” Lisa wrinkled her nose.
“You don’t need to apologize. She’s my problem, not yours.”
Lisa gave a huff. “Yeah well, mothers shouldn’t be anybody’s problem.”
Maybe not. But Jackson’s mom had been trouble since she’d walked out on him and his dad when he was ten years old. Since then, she’d flitted in and