Page 13 of Blue Gold
Seeing her face reminded me of something, so I stood up. “Could you please fax these to my father’s office?” I asked, handing her a bunch of files, then turned back to my desk.
“Of course, sir.”
“I’ll take my leave now. I promised Claudia I would be home early tonight, so why don’t you go, too? You deserve some rest,” I said, stacking the rest of the papers on my desk into a neat pile.
“Sir, there’s someone here to see you.”
“I thought I was done with my meetings for the day,” I answered her while reaching for my suit jacket that hung on the back of my chair.
“I don’t think he scheduled a meeting, sir.”
“So? Tell him to schedule one, then send him home,” I declared, annoyed with people’s audacity to just show up here.
“The problem is that… I don’t understand him, sir.”
I stopped what I was doing only to glare at her. “What is that supposed to mean, Sherry?”
“He’s French, sir, and I don’t think he knows English. But he did say your name—”
Every word that came after French was lost, and my heart suddenly stopped. Feeling as if I was just kicked in the chest, I took a deep breath, my brows pulling closer.
“French, you said?”
She nodded.
What was Elliot doing here?
“Should I send him home?”
“No.” The word came out of my mouth so fast it caught Sherry by surprise, given the confusion on her face.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Please let him in,” I told her.
She didn’t bother with more questions before she left my office, closing the door behind her.
Quickly, I ran my fingers through my hair to make sure it looked decent, then smoothed a hand over my dress shirt to fix the wrinkles. I’d just leaned my hip against my desk when the door to my office reopened, and Sherry walked Elliot in. The way she looked at him with hearts in her eyes didn’t escape me, and a bitter taste filled my mouth.
“Merci,” Elliot told Sherry, who just giggled in response.
The second I saw her flipping her hair forward, I decided I’d had enough.
“You can go home now, Sherry.”
Her face fell. “What about the fax?”
“I’ll just do it myself.”
“Sir—”
“Good night.”
Knowing better than to argue, Sherry nodded, then gave Elliot one last flirty smile before finally leaving. And while annoyed, I couldn’t blame her. Wearing a denim jacket and a pair of blue jeans that complemented his long legs, Elliot looked like a movie star.
The second the door closed behind Sherry, I pushed back from my desk.
“Elliot, what are you doing here?” I asked in French.
