The Professional Novels & Stories

I nееd to knоw what hе thіnkѕ whаt a rеаl рrоfеѕѕіоnаl thinks, not ѕоmеоnе I’m ѕlееріng with. Agent Cоореr рlасеѕ thе tip оf hіѕ раlmѕ tоgеthеr, mаkіng a руrаmіd оf hіѕ hands. It rеmіndѕ mе of a рrоfеѕѕоr.

He held the glass and thought: I am sitting at a bar in Brooklyn on a Tuesday night having taken the F train, and I do not have a contract or a cashier's check or a plan more developed than finding the person I came here to find. He thought: this is the most uncontrolled I have been in a professional interaction since I was nineteen. He thought: this is not a professional interaction. The distinction was important. He had spent most of his adult life in professional interactions—meetings and negotiations and board calls and investor dinners, each with its own script, each with its own set of expected behaviors and acceptable outcomes. He had become very good at those interactions. He had bui

“I simply want to ensure that our working environment remains… professional.” The word ‘professional’ seemed to echo between them, carrying all the weight of their shared history and the careful boundaries they’d constructed around their impossible situation. “Of course,” Lavinia said, her voice matching his tone of studied neutrality. “Completely professional.” * * * The afternoon brought an unexpected visitor, and with her, a complication Lavinia hadn’t anticipated.

"Go ahead." First — whatever this is, it is strictly professional. No grey areas, no gradual erosion of the boundary I just set, no testing it to see if it shifts over time. Professional means professional. I need to be able to walk into that building every morning and focus entirely on the work, and I cannot do that if the personal history between us keeps finding ways into the room. "Understood," he said.

I laugh. “You’re right, I can’t imagine you waking up with a prostate the size of my big-ass head,” I say and he hums in agreement after laughing. “You can bend over, I’ll stick my finger up there and check it out for you. I’m a professional.” I offer. He rejects me almost immediately. “On second thoughts, I’d rather worry about what you have to tell me.” He says, switching the conversation to where we were originally headed. “Oh, right,” I murmur.

I u‍sed the same f‍lat, pro⁠f‍essi⁠onal ton⁠e I used for th⁠e‍ Schneider Group. "You t‍old me to be a profes‌si​onal. A pro‌fessional perfor​ms a tas‍k f⁠or a salary. Y‌our fath​e​r‍ already pay my salary. You don'‍t g​et t⁠o buy my loyalty back wit⁠h a⁠ rock bec​ause you're sca‌red of a conference call." I loo‌ked back⁠ at Kai.

"That's what makes it interesting." I leave him with the bill. I always leave them with the bill. It's a small thing, but it matters — it reminds them who works for whom, and more importantly, it reminds them that I am not the kind of person who can be kept waiting. I am a professional. Professionals don't linger over coffee with clients. Professionals have places to be, preparations to make, identities to construct.

"This is a business dinner, Mr. Cross. Let's keep it professional." Something flickered in his eyes—hurt, maybe disappointment—before he nodded slowly. "Of course. Professional."

He chuckled silently. "Sir, have you had lunch yet?" Wenna asked in front of us. Rajiv nodded. "'Right, Sir, you were the one who visited my cousin's house?" he added. "Yeah." "I'm right. I was really surprised earlier that prof. It's you. You look so young. You're a fresh graduate, right?" Rajiv nodded again and simply took another slice. I glared at him but now he was just looking at Wenna who was talking to him.

he said in a low, rumbling voice as he stopped right in front of my desk. "Strictly professional, huh?""Absolutely,"I said, attempting to sound as unperturbed as I could. He leaned closer, and I could smell a combination of woodsy and masculine scents. "Does that mean no more kisses that break the earth?"My breath caught. My meticulously crafted professional façade was on the verge of disintegrating. Now more than ever, I had to keep control. That's exactly what's strictly professional' means, Mr. Heathrow, I said, my voice surprisingly steady despite my heartbeat.