The grunts and groans were an occupational hazard, but I’d trained myself to at least not visibly respond to them anymore. I tapped the iPad with the stylus as he drank, knowing that once his caffeine levels were at “human interaction” levels he’d prompt conversation.

“So?” A raised sable eyebrow was sent in my direction. “How was yesterday?”

“It was fine, thanks for asking.” I smiled awkwardly. I’d taken the afternoon to go look at a shared office space I was considering leasing, but I’d told him I was going to help my mother with something. Every once in a while Theo got curious about my personal life and would ask questions. Just my luck that this morning would be his annual moment of realizing I was a human being with a life outside of arranging his dry cleaning and setting up his dentist appointments.

I scanned the messages Natasha had typed up for me in our shared Google Doc. Nothing I couldn’t deal with myself, except for one. I suppressed a sigh and opened my mouth, already knowing what he’d say.

“The producers from Star Renovations called again, and they—”

“Tell them I’m not interested.” He cut me off before I could even finish the sentence.

“All right,” I said with a tight nod and miraculously suppressed the judgmental tone that was burning to come out of me. Every few months for the last year one of the big reality TV production companies reached out to Theo and tried to recruit him for one of their home renovation shows.

Star Renovations was behind a very popular series that paired celebrities with a knack for design with a professional. Typically, the makeovers went to deserving families or nonprofit organizations. Theo wasn’t exactly a “celebrity” but ten years ago he’d won two Olympic medals for swimming while he was still in college. That in and of itself was a huge deal, but he’d also become a bit of an internet sensation—much to his chagrin it wasn’t due to the races he won silver and bronze in, but because videos of him drying off after his heats had gone viral. Once the public learned that the swimmer in question was New York City royalty and an engineering student at MIT things went nuclear. His pecs had their own hashtag: #OlympicNips...which had provided me personally with hours upon hours of entertainment.

Of course, Theo loathed all of it. I, on the other hand, would’ve killed for a chance like that. To be able to showcase my design skills on that scale could literally change my life.

“What?” The challenging tone in his voice made me snap my head up. Theo was not a man one would call impassioned. Deadpan was the most one could get out of him, but he was looking at me so intensely, I wondered if I’d spoken out loud.

“Nothing,” I lied, laughing awkwardly.