I felt stupid, I was feeling stupid and I was going to continue feeling so until the end of time probably. There were similarities and I hadn't put them together, though to be honest, I hadn't wanted to assume anything by that, just because people had similar eye color and close enough shape, and of course, even the lips a little, that didn't mean they were related. In this case, they were.
He didn't get comfortable with me just because of his identity or the fact that he had nonchalantly led me to his office right after the meeting was over, I hadn't yet recovered from him being so casual about me being his assistant, and I had taken everything which needed to make its way to his office with me. I still felt stupid even when I walked in and found him sitting in the chair that was usually empty, the fact that he didn't seem all that bothered me. It surely made me look so incompetent to not be aware of my employer standing right there in the elevator with me. Maybe I should have stalked Daniel on any social media platform in hopes of seeing him or Googled the company more instead of binge-watching How To Get Away With Murder, this had stolen the opportunity of me seeing his face before actually gawking at it as I had in that elevator.
I held the files close and stepped in and was hit with his perfume so subtly, followed by that of wood and wet soil–I guess that was the large pot plants just near the door. It took held that simple minimalistic decor, but was dimmer in some natural way as the dark tones of grey and black probably blocked off the sun from brightening it any further. It reminded me of those flashy vampires in one of those over-popular shows that some people were still watching.
They were overreacted and my head was ruined by watching detailed documentaries about notorious gangbangers and all types of stuff about murder, it gave me nightmares but I barely slept anyway.
I guess if I wasn't having a nightmare I was up thinking about things I didn't want to think about, this job made it easier to ignore it. It also made sure I saw those morbid walls less and there was still moving in with my sister and her husband–I wasn't excited. I was just grateful I would no longer face those terrible walls. I guess even that gave me nightmares itself.
I sat the files down and earned his attention. He arched his left eyebrow as he kept the other eye slightly squinted me, watching me suspicion or so I presumed. I was still on probation in some way, I guess and maybe that was the reason I felt the need to impress these people. It also irritated me as well and as much as I wanted to dwell on that for my pride's sake I chose to rather keep my job.
I did my best to keep my eyes on his–I was no liar. "That's. . .about everything you asked for and some documents that needed reviewing and the contract for the sponsor for the launch."
He reached forward, easily, and snaked his larger and longer fingers on the files, bringing them before himself, with caution, with his other hand closing the lid of his laptop slightly.
The silence was killing me and I regretted never opting to rather communicate with him over the phone, it would have at least made some parts of this rather easy.
I felt uncomfortably aware of the unfamiliarity which had long settled between us and he was my boss, I was going to work quite closely with him and so I had no choice but to get comfortable with him. Or even around him. Maybe the whole ordeal with my manager had taught me better. Here I was going to be professional and clear of my intentions–I wasn't going to attract unwanted attention. Therefore it began with how I carried myself and so without wasting my time on my thoughts and the pinch of anxiety digging a fist into the pit of my stomach I stepped forward further and decided to try harder.
"I did talk to Daniel about your uncle's birthday, he says he's already ahead when it comes to presents," I said, hoping this was to at least make him more of my employer naturally than a beautiful stranger.
He cocked his head to the side. "Of course he did."
"You haven't?" I remained a bit of distance away from faltering before his eyes. They were sharp, maybe even brutal as they stared right through me emptily, not even giving me a slight clue of what he must have been thinking about me. Or what I was saying in hopes of making myself comfortable in this situation.
He decided to stop looking at me and making me like I was in the principal's office and faced the documents before him, going for the contracts first as I had placed them at the top as they were mostly top priority in my opinion–I had been right. I wasn't going to run out screaming, however, because that was just my job and I hadn't done something out of the ordinary. Besides that, I had the issue of not even being sure just what was passing through his head and the man's eyes gave nothing away, unfortunately for me.
"I haven't gotten him anything," he admitted, paging through the thin contract. "I'm not very good with gifts. . .and my uncle's picky."
"You want me to put down a date where you can–"
"What would you get your uncle?" He quickly lifted his head and I met his eyes when I wasn't waiting for them.
"It depends on which uncle it is," I said, offering him the best smile that I could without making him feel like I didn't like him or had a stomach ache, though to be honest, I couldn't be sure. I wasn't very familiar with the subject of my uncles or any males of my father's side of the family, since they were the family close enough to use, and present, the reason being my dearest mother hating them as much as she hated my dad and was trying her best to pretend that she didn't. I guess in the twenty-five years of my life I had learned that loving someone and them staying doesn't mean the same thing, hence why I just went with what all of us chose to accept as being the truth–my father was dead. I didn't even know why I had I had gotten married to start with or why we still had their wedding photo up on our wall, or why some part of me was angry with myself for not fighting hard enough–for letting go. Maybe someday I would be better and wouldn't feel this pathetic and slightly bitter sometimes even close to not numb.
"You don't know either then," he said, forgetting the document as he stood up from where he sat, his hair plummeting neatly and loosely over his face, and meeting his jaw, as it sat slightly ruffled and slightly messy. "I'm on my own then."
"Is he difficult?"
He turned around from where he stood close to the tall floor-to-ceiling-window staring at other buildings and the city, slightly glistening underneath a hue of bursting orange, behind the glass, jubilating softly at a distance as the day slowly folded, with his one hand shoved into his pocket as he had his back to me. "He just likes making me run around this time of the year, maybe that's his favorite gift."
The light softly brushed against his features, plumpening his already full lips with color as he moistened them with his tongue and that is when I turned from the sight, choosing to focus on my shoes. "Maybe you can find something."
"He hates my gifts."
I lifted my head to look at him and maybe I had thought he would be sad or maybe laughing at his statement, instead, he was just holding this unreadable look with natural ease as if he hadn't just said anything which would make most people feel for him whether they found that humorous or not.
He then stepped away from the glass entirely. "I guess I'll have to do better this year."
"Maybe. . .your brother can help," I suggested, careful with bringing this up as I did not want him to presume I was too forward or was trying too hard to get close to everyone or that I had some ulterior motive. I guess ever since I had started there it was all I felt I had to not be and maybe it had something to do with their closeness and me being an outsider but I didn't want anyone there to start thinking I was there for something else. Something told me, deep in my gut, that, for some reason, that was the last thing I wanted of them to start insinuating about me and maybe some part of me felt too uneasy about it but the other was far too logical as compared to this. I had a history of turning things into what they weren't–I was going to stick it out this time unlike I did with my marriage.
"We can try and look for something when you're free," I said, without being sure just where that was coming from, "if that's fine with you."
He offered me a slight smile. "It would help."
"You usually get other people gifts, right?" I asked as I tried to find some familiar ground in the middle of unfamiliar territory. "Friends, family. . .lover?"
I had hoped that maybe the last part was to get him to at least show me something other than those eyes, that I was to maybe have something as I was sure I was far easier to read than he could ever be.
"I've never had to buy a gift for a. . .lover," he said, making sure to intensify the last part as he pushed his hair from his face.
"Really? Even flowers?" I arched a brow as I folded my arms.
His soft and slightly wavy hair was pushed from his face as he sighed, tilting his head to the side. "You wouldn't wish for a gift from me."
"You never know what to get them?" I offered him a slight smile just to be polite–smiling too much just seemed like the thing to send the wrong message.
"You want to help me?" He sat back down.
"If that's fine with you." I wanted to get on his good side and also had to prove myself.
He let out a soft laugh. "Okay."