I handed him his water. "There you go."
"Thank you," he said, lifting his head from the laptop with his hair styled a bit away from his face and tugged behind his left ear, stylishly, elegant even though it looked so free and made him seem much younger.
Nicholas had his full lips pressed together tightly, for a brief moment, and those dimples of his never missing a moment to show off. "Still at it?"
"I want to be sure before we say. . .it's missing." I held the iPad close.
"I'm doubtful, but I won't stop you," he said, shrugging. There was a slight glint in his eyes that shone with humor as he continued to stare up at me with his left eyebrow slightly raised. "You're going to spend hours and hours on this?"
"If I have to." I nodded.
My hair was long enough when pulled, so it was not so harmful to tie it on top of my head and style it the way I had, I sometimes wished I had more of my momma's softer curls, and get along with it the entire day–I just had never been all that good with updos. Even when I was just small I had only compromised with my momma and had only let her braid my hair into somewhat long ponytails. I had to do my best and appreciate even having a job. I liked my hair, and myself, but my bills and moving out of my sister's place soon came first–so the updo was something I would have to tolerate.
"If I have to." I nodded, very proud of myself for some unknown reason. I wasn't going to slack off or take any form of pity, not even from my boss and I was sure he was being considerate and everything, but this was what he was paying me for–my job.
"You don't have to," he commented, looking up at me as if I was the oddest creature he had ever laid his eyes on–keeping his full lips in that slight boy-like pout.
"It's my job. " I did not need anyone feeling sorry for me, I had gotten a lot of that for the past year and almost half of this one.
"Okay," he said, smiling to himself.
"I don't mind doing it anyway, but. . .there's something else," I said, stepping forward quite carefully and it had everything to do with the fact that I was nervous, presently, and didn't even know if he was going to like this or not. The fact that he was looking at me and waiting for me to elaborate made it worse, especially when he arched his brow and urged me further–we didn't have all the time in the world. As much as I was certain he wasn't the type of man to use forceful language or raise his voice, I was sure he wasn't the nicest either and neither could say he was mean. Though I doubted I could say much, he was a mystery, and his beautiful hair and great eyelashes surely did a bit make trying to peel past that beautiful layer easily. It almost made it seem as if it was the scariest thing in the world, and then again, it was just me–I got into those crime shows a bit too much.
"You said you weren't good with gifts and everything, so. . ."I had to force myself to stride to where he sat. I put the iPad down immediately and went straight to the catalog, forgetting about me being so close that with just one wrong action and my boob was going to be pressed against his shoulder. My breasts were the last thing I wanted to pay attention to, but I didn't want things awkward and so I planted my hand on his desk and just let my nostrils drown in what they couldn't help but succumb to.
"What is it?" I was glad he chose to rather toss his eyes to the iPad screen itself and not stare up at me. It just didn't mean I couldn't smell his coffeed breath or his shampoo as his head was too close and I was practically hovering above him.
"I went online and found some stores I thought you'd appreciate," I said, leaning quite close as I left my arm forward to show him what I was talking about and battled to hold my breath as I prayed for him to not lift his head. Without thinking too much about it, which I was sure was just a mistake, I had leaned in with my chest and everything, enclosing him in, or at least as much as my frame could enable me, as my arm went over his shoulder a bit too much. He smelled great, it was no surprise there and at this point, I guess our faces were close enough that I could hear him breathing and I guess so could he. I chose to ignore it and rather paid more attention to the jewelry at hand, these were the sort of places I would have to be a boss myself to be able to buy stuff from, and that was the reason he was the better candidate. I led, despite almost having my chest shoved right against his shoulder, to my horror, him through the catalog and showed him everything else but was too giddy to get to the part of the latest collection that this high-end boutique had, they even had a range of gemstones and diamonds to fit the latest designs from their watch collection. I wasn't a fan of jewelry that much but I was sold on this–anyone would. Who wouldn't appreciate custom-made jewelry? Designed elegantly and just for your taste? It was basically what broke people like me could only watch on TV or gawk at on Instagram of some celebrity with too much money to spend. It was basically what rich people lived for and they were rich and these watches were the royalty of all watches, the stones encrusted so simply yet elegantly brought a personal and slightly glamorous touch to them but still kept the blink at minimal–less tacky and dramatic.
He turned and I wished he hadn't done so for two reasons. One, the words that soon came out of his soft lips, something I only really guessed, to be honest, and the way they moved was just distracting–I tossed my eyes away just to be safe. I didn't like how curious my eyes were and being able to smell him this close was in itself cruel, I could only force myself to ignore just how close our faces were and the fact that he was to receive it better than me made it even more difficult. The detail of his wide, and quite full, heart-shaped lips were, or at least seemed to be, as delicate as that of his chin and his skin which looked to be littered with tiny little beauty spots–I had to quit staring at him so much.
His words brought me back to reality, fast. "You shouldn't have."
I stood there, or better yet leaned, for a couple of seconds and maybe even a minute or more. I, of course, wanted to kick myself for crossing this line and a little bit even him for letting me assume I could, but I was a big girl and so I put my big girl panties on and was supposed to stand up straight and do my actual job, instead I found myself staring at him and instead of wearing the look of a wounded cat or rather a pissed of one, I couldn't tell. It wasn't in my place to be upset, but I was and I didn't like making things more than what they were.
Which brought me to reason number two–how close we were. This only realized as soon as I sighed and he raked his eyes a little too much along my face, then I stood up straight. It was already awkward at this point and he tossed his eyes away, probably embarrassed that he had been starting for too long and I chose to punish him by letting him be guilty about it. I had no clue where this side of me was coming from or if it belonged there with me, let alone if it was even merited, and I found myself okay with it.
"They'll deliver the catalog by lunchtime and if you've changed your mind or still hate it. . .then you'll share that piece of information," I said, stepping away from him and returning to my usual post–right before him. It took quite some time before he lifted his head and stared at me, his eyes could hide a whole lot and the world could never catch a thing, but not this one.
There was still that onyx ocean dancing about within the depths of his eyes, promising to drown you and never return your bones to shore, but before me, for a brief moment, was just a man trying to regain his image after being caught staring–ar least he was decent enough to feel awful about it. I found a slight smile tugging at my lips but I did not let it bother my face, though that harsh stare only remained undefeated for only seconds and then a tossed my eyes to my chest–my blouse had acted up. It had a button undone and I, at that moment, something which I had not felt since high school, felt so small, and the feeling of being trapped in that pantry returned. I frowned and faced the reality of what this must have looked like while I was busy trying to 'punish' my boss and then even that sounded so wrong.
I couldn't wither though, I kept my head held up high as he lowered his head while I, despite my already injured pride, had to turn my back towards him and button my blouse up.
I swallowed, even sighed as my shoulders fell, and through gritted teeth let out something I didn't favor spitting out that often. "I'm sorry about this."
"It's okay, let's not make it what. . .it isn't, okay?" He forced me to turn around and face him. I hated being in the position that I was in and had was right, it was nothing. If only we could just look at each other right in the eye. I cowered and rather chose to find some way to get out of there, to gather my very thoughts, and to force myself to just get over it I didn't want my boss to feel I was trying something. Perhaps, I was close to trying with how pissed of I was and my hands were slightly shaking as I forced them to fists.
"I will make the copies and send them to you. . .would you also like some coffee?" I forced myself to look at him and crossed my fingers I wasn't upset, I didn't need him to assume I was anything close to soft and incapable of handling my emotions. I was a big girl and therefore I was going to forget this and do my job, it wasn't as if it was something anyway. It was just a little cleavage and closeness, nothing more–it could happen to anyone.
"I don't know if coffees fine with me. . .but I'll take it anyway," he said, probably have received at this point"and I'll be waiting for those reports."
"Will you be having lunch after the meeting?" I stood up even more straight, he wasn't going to beat me at it–I was going to be calmer.
He shoved his wavy hair behind his ear as he nudged his chair forward and trained his eyes to the laptop, parting the lid open. "You can go out for lunch if you like."
I wanted to say something else but I didn't. "Thank you."