The next morning, while searching for my keys in the pockets of my suit jacket, I see him leaning against the office door. Tall, with massive arms, an easy smile, and a backpack slung over one shoulder. "Edward Harrison? I'm Blake. Your new assistant." It takes me several seconds to process what he's saying. I rub my eyes, but he's still there, like someone left a big, dumb dog waiting for me.
It’s his scent—subtle but lingering—that pushes me to shake his hand and open the door to my office.