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I feel it.

It gives me a hardcore lurch in the guts.

He cares.

Eli actually gives a fuck about me, even though I’ve been a waste of space for years.

“You’ll have it,” I say. “You’ll have consistency, right from today.”

“And when whatever happened stops hurting, what happens then?”

My chest tightens.

“I’ll still be here.”

Eli’s eyes don’t waver.

“You don’t know that.”

“No,” I admit. “I don’t know that. Not for certain.”

My honesty surprises both of us, I can see it in his stare. Just a flash.

I rest my hands against my knees.

“But I want to find out. Honestly. I want to find out. I’ll give it everything I’ve got, and hopefully manage to make the grade without being a total dick.”

Eli’s expression shifts.

Barely, but enough.

He looks at the reports on his desk and takes the top file from the pile.

“There was a discrepancy in Friday’s numbers.”

“How large?”

“Not large. Irritating.”

“Staff error?”

“Possibly. I want another set of eyes on it before we close the week.”

He slides the file across the desk.

I take it. Paper. Figures. Work somebody expects me to complete. Nothing but boring analysis.

Yet it feels significantly more weighty than the bidding paddle did.

“When do you need it?” I ask him.

“Four this afternoon.”

“You’ll have it by two, I guarantee it.”

“Three, realistic.”

“Two. I’m holding position,” I say.