I type away on my computer with a cup of coffee. Noticing the time on my laptop, I head to Mr. Madden's office to give my hourly report. I grab some files off my desk and walk to Mr. Madden's office across from mine and enter the room. I open my mouth to start my report but do a double-take when I see him eating the sandwiches I made for him. Seeing the satisfaction on his face brings a grin to mine.
"The preparations for our annual gala are completed. All that is left are our outfits and to stop by the venue to overlook everything and make sure it's the way we want it. The fashion design department has finished the clothing line that will be displayed at the gala. The photography department is also prepared as well as the marketing and PR team."
Mr. Madden finishes his sandwich and sets his pen down. For the first time ever, he looks at me when he talks. "You are going to see my personal tailor with me tomorrow. She will take your measurements and create a dress for you based on our theme for the gala. If there is a certain way you want your dress to look, write it down and give it to her tomorrow." He doesn't spare me another glance. He lifts his pen again and continues writing.
I deliberate if I should comment on the sandwich or not. I know our relationship only extends so far. There would be no bickering during work hours like we did at Saiya's house and in the elevator. "Are you going to continue to stare? It seems to be a hobby of yours lately. By the way, start knocking before you enter my room. The habit tends to lead outside of the office if recent events are to say anything."
My stance stiffens and my eyes slightly bulge. Why would he bring up personal matters at work? Two can play that game. I form a tight smile and say, "Are you enjoying that sandwich?" Still not looking up from his work, he responds, "My lunch doesn't concern you," a vein pops out of my neck as my agitation grows. The nerve of this man. I walk out of his office without another word.
Luke is in my chair with an identical cup of coffee in his hand. Coffee is the only thing keeping everyone working here alive. "Get out of my chair." I set my coffee on my desk and cross my arms. "Someone is grumpy today. I'm loving the outfit change by the way. The stereotypical white button-down shirt and jeans were getting old."
I exuberantly throw my hands up and let them flop for dramatic effect. "Thank you! It really accentuates my curves right?"
"Especially your ass," A scoff erupts from my mouth after a replay of what Mr. Madden said about my outfit in the elevator, runs through my head. "Exactly! Some people simply don't know what they're talking about." I pout and cross my arms.
"Who dared to say anything bad about your outfit? Point me in their direction," Luke gives me a fake scowl. A chuckle forms in my chest. "Talk to the CEO of the company then," I roll my eyes and lean against my desk since Luke makes no effort to get out of my chair. He nearly chokes on his coffee at my comment. His eyes bulge and I have his undivided attention.
"The man who doesn't look at you when talking noticed you changed your outfit?" A dry chuckle escapes my mouth. "Yeah, about that. It's a long story that I would rather tell you when there aren't 50 million ears listening in on us."
There are a bunch of gossipers in the building. This wasn't a fun job unless you were a fashion designer. The people up here typed their lives away on a computer and managed numbers. Aside from coffee, gossip was one of the few things that kept this job somewhat lively. I knew if anybody here aside from Luke knew about my situation with Mr. Madden, I would be the talk of the building for a month.
"You had better spill all of the tea or else," Luke flicks me an impatient and curious gaze before turning out of my chair and heading back to work. I replace him on my chair and get back to work. What was my relationship with Mr. Madden and why was he suddenly acknowledging me?
~~
I check the time and see it's midnight. I start to pack my things in my bag. I head out of the office area and towards the elevator, too tired to take the stairs. I enter the elevator and click the button with the number one on it. As the elevator doors start to close, I hear, "Hold the door," I quickly put my hands in between the elevator doors.
Mr. Madden quickly walks through the door and I wish I had let the doors close. I must've been too tired to recognize his voice. We stand in the elevator in silence until I break it. "I got many compliments on my outfit today. You know, the one that was allegedly 'not doing as much as I believe it is'. And my ass looks spectacular in it." We walk out of the elevator and into the empty space on the first floor.
"Why is my approval of your outfit important so important that you feel the need to bring it up again?" I stop in my tracks, noticing this, Jason turns around. "I don't need your approval. I know I look great in this outfit. I need you to admit when you're wrong,"
"An opinion can't be wrong,"
"Well, yours is. You don't get to act all high and mighty when insulting me then try to seem like the bigger person when I approach you about it," I turn around and head toward the clear doors that lead outside.
"Were you always this feisty?"
"You wouldn't know. You've barely spared me a glance," I scoff and focus on the doors. "Really? Because I saw plenty this morning," I stumble on air and nearly fall before a pair of arms wraps around my waist. Dangling from his arms, I rotate my head to look at him. "How did you? There was no light! There was no way you saw-," I can't finish my sentence as my tongue seems thicker and dryer in my throat.
He says nothing. He sets me on my feet and walks off with a smirk. I lag behind, stunned by his previous comment. When I finally scurry outside, his vehicle is gone. After a lengthy groan, I jump into my car. I slam my head on the wheel before driving to Saiya's house.
With nobody being on the road this early in the morning, I get to Saiya's house in less than an hour. I unlock the door with the spare key Saiya gave me and enter the house. I leave my shoes at the door and walk down the hallway into the kitchen. I dig into the fridge and grab an apple before heading down another hallway into my room.
Seeing no point in taking a shower, as I would have to get up in a few hours, I take off my clothes and slip on a tank top and sweats. I put my computer and phone on charge before plugging my headphones in. I blast my music, finish my apple, and let sleep take me.
~~
I wake up two hours before my alarm sounds. I groan when I see I got less than two hours of sleep. Needing to pee, I get out of bed and walk into the bathroom. After finishing, I wash my hands and head to the kitchen. I grab oatmeal out the pantry and pour it into a bowl before adding milk and putting it in the microwave.
As I wait for it to heat up, a figure suddenly appears in the hallway. A silent scream exits my lips. My heart drops in my chest as it pounds heavily. It only slows down when I make out the figure in the dark. Jason. Again.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I keep my voice down so I don't wake Saiya. His eyebrow lifts at my aggressive words. "I didn't know walking into a kitchen labeled me as a psych patient." I roll my eyes at his comment. "You get labeled as a weirdo when your feet are as light as a mouse and your breathing as undetectable as a fly on the wall!"
A deep chuckle escapes his lips. The sound evokes something dangerous in my core. I ignore the feeling and focus. "Your analogies are very unique. Why are you up so early?"
"I could say the same for you. I didn't wake up this early by choice,"
"I never went to sleep," he responds. "Are you a bat? Or nocturnal perhaps. The moment I fell on my bed, I was asleep." He shrugs at my comment and my oatmeal finishes. I take it out of the microwave and pull a spoon from the drawer.
"You must really like that. You ate it this morning too," he points his head toward my oatmeal. "It? You don't know what oatmeal is?" He doesn't give me a response. "Should I?" He finally says. My eyebrows crease. "Yes, everybody knows what it is even if they haven't eaten it."
I grab my spoon and give him the bite that was supposed to be for me. "Here, it's cool by now," I lift the spoon toward him. Much to my surprise, he eats the oatmeal while the spoon is still in my hand. My mind retains every action he makes while eating the oatmeal. Every bite, how his Adam's apple bobs when he swallows, and when he licks the remaining bits from the edge of his mouth.
Feeling my lips become dry, I pass my tongue over my bottom lip. "You're staring again," Jason's words pull me out of the trance. I shake my head and try to remember what happened. "I didn't expect you to eat it while the spoon was still in my hand,"
"What did you want me to do?"
"I don't know, grab the spoon?" I state the obvious answer. I pull another spoon from the drawer and give him the first one. "Did you like it?" he grunts a response. "Then share with me. I'm too tired to eat two full packs." Without saying anything, he digs in and we share the bowl of oatmeal. After we finish our meal in silence, I put the bowl in the sink and fill it with water to let it soak.
"You have some on your face," Jason tells me. I trail around my face yet can't come across the grain he is talking about. "Are you lying to me?" He comes closer, too close. He slides the bit of oatmeal off my face with his thumb and eats it.
I lick that part of my face to rid the sticky feeling from the oatmeal. My eyes stare intensely at Jason's thumb as he continues to lick the remainder of the oatmeal off of it. I inhale a deep breath. My core and my vagina start to heat up. I clench my legs together to try and relieve the pent-up energy. I try not to think of Jason's tongue in between my thighs.
He's your sister's fiancee and your boss, I repeat in my head but my body doesn't seem to get the memo. I let out a low whimper that I hope Jason doesn't hear. Luke was right, I needed to get laid. I'm hitting rock bottom quickly.
By the time I come to my senses, Jason is so close to me that my hardened nipples are touching his chest. I need to get out of this kitchen. His earthy scent is clouding my head and my judgment. "You should get rid of this habit. Staring is rude," he looks down at my figure as our heights are separated by more than a few inches.
He puts both of his hands on the sink behind me, trapping me in. He leans his head into my neck and asks, "Is my figure doing something to you, calla?"
I try to form a response but come up short. Yes, he is doing something to me and I hate it. This isn't right. None of our interactions were and he's making fun of me. I replace my attraction with anger. Knowing pushing him would be futile, I duck underneath his arms. "No, I was just wondering why you would eat food from my face. It's disgusting,"
He lifts his eyebrow, "It didn't go into your mouth." I clear my throat, "Still, and what the hell is a calla?" A smirk replaces his confusion. "Goodnight, calla" He walks into the hallway's dark depths, and once again I am left confused.