Page 7 of Ache
I inhale a deep breath and knock on the door. Here we go.
“Come in.” His low timber vibrates through the wood. I enter, still holding my breath, and walk swiftly to his desk. He doesn’t even look up as I stand there. It’s like I’m invisible, a tribulation, nothing of importance at all.
A silent moment passes. I don’t know what I’m waiting for. Neither does he, because Alec finally looks up, his icy blue eyes cutting right through me. I push my reading glasses up my nose and fidget a bit. I wish he wasn’t so fucking attractive. He’s got all the damn goods. Smart, handsome, rich, too bad he loses major points for being a grade-A asshole.
“Is that for me?” His question is short, curt.
“Um, yes.” I hand him the folder. “Lara asked me to drop it off.”
“And where is she?” He flips open the folder and inspects the contents. He’s so critical for a second that I fear for Lara’s job.
“She left early. She needed a little extra time to get ready for the party tonight,” I divulge, questioning if it was smart to share.
Alec grunts. I’m not sure why. Maybe because he thinks she’s slacking. Half the office left early, so I don’t see the big deal. We’re basically the only two left. What does that say about us?
No lives?
Workaholics?
Antisocial?
All of the above?
Probably.
Definitely for me.
Alec just shakes his head as he looks over Lara’s highlights.
That is my cue to go.
I turn on my heel to leave. My blood has turned into an icy stream from just being in his presence.
“Aren’t you going to the party?” Alec asks, detached. I glance over my shoulder.
“Yes,” I squeak, then clear my throat.
“Then why are you still here?”
“Why are you?” I don’t know what compels me to fire back. Maybe it’s because I hate the way he talks to me. The way he talks to everyone. I’m rebelling, stupidly.
Alec pauses, lifting his bold, blue eyes slowly as I turn to face him.
My pulse pounds in my ears as he looks me over. He is so fucking intimidating, but I’m not going to cower. Not on the outside anyway.
“I brought my change of clothes to the office. Allows me to work longer,” he shares evenly. He’s so eerily calm and collected I want to check to see if he even has a pulse.
“I guess most people aren’t as smart or as dedicated as you.”
“They’re definitely not.” I may be imagining it, but I think he’s smirking. The lift of his lips is so faint I have to stare to make sure the curve is actually there. “Don’t you need some extra time to get ready?” Alec inquires.
“No. I can change quickly. It doesn’t take much for me to get ready.”
“Clearly.” He deliberately cocks an eyebrow at me. I glance down at myself. I’m dressed in neat work attire. A pair of slim black pants, black high heels, and a white, striped, button-up shirt. It’s freakin’ Calvin Klein. Why is he judging?
“Is there anything else?” I bite.
“Nope.” He looks back down at his paperwork, all but dismissing me.
