A contented smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, it was nice. I drove up to Boston to visit my family.”
My eyes widen. “Isn’t that like a three-hour drive?”
He nods, flashing his white teeth. “Just over. Got there late Friday evening.”
I’m about to respond, when the elevator dings, and the doors slide open. Eli, the perfect gentleman, gestures for me to go first. Unbidden, my mind shifts to Evan. Is he a gentleman with women? I inwardly snort. There is nothing gentlemanly about Evan.
Eli steps in beside me, his eyes locked on mine, intense, and something else I can’t quite decipher.
“Must’ve been nice to get out of the city,” I murmur, feeling a rush of heat in my body.
“It was,” he agrees, shifting on his feet as he adjusts the strap of his messenger bag. He opens his mouth to say something else, but stops when a shadow falls over us.
I glance up, my breath hitching.
Evan.
He’s dressed in a navy suit that looks like it was specially made for him, crisp white shirt and custom Italian loafers. His masculine scent of sandalwood, vetiver and white musk cling to him. It’s enough to make me weak in the knees.
Why can’t he have a flaw? Something to turn women off, not draw them in.
I’m pretty sure men like Evan Maxwell were designed by the devil himself to test women.
His cold, indifferent, blue eyes meet mine.
“Elijah,” he greets my friend coolly, though his gaze never leaves my face.
Eli clears his throat beside me, but I don’t look.
I’m currently trapped in the asshole’s web.
“Just Eli. Good morning, Mr. Maxwell.”
Evan doesn’t acknowledge the correction, but I see the flicker of irritation seep into his expression. “Anais,” he drawls, a smirk curling his lips. “I thought all that hard work last week would’ve scared you off.”
My eyes narrow, and I stand tall, even though I’d still need six-inch heels just to reach his chin. I cock my head. “Now why would you ever think that, Evan? I’ll be here for the next seven weeks. Someone’s got to get your lunch, right?” My eyes widen in mock innocence.
His jaw tightens but he says nothing. Instead, he runs a hand down his tie and turns his attention to Eli.
“Conference room C. Ten o’ clock,” he says, voice cold. “We’ve got things to go over.”
Eli doesn’t miss a beat, replying smoothly, despite the thick tension. “Of course, Mr. Maxwell.”
Evan nods once then faces forward, effectively ending the conversation. The elevator feels like it’s crawling, so slow it’s like time stands still. The air grows thick, suffocating. Panic starts to rise in my chest.
I need to get out of here.
I close my eyes, fidgeting with my hands. Just breathe. It’s just an elevator. But since the incident, sometimes, like now, the fear creeps in. This is one of those times. Whether it’s the elevator or Evan stealing all the oxygen, I’m not sure.
I just know I need to get out. I need to–
Finally, the doors open. I rush out, sucking in much needed air.
Jesus Christ. What was that? I haven’t felt panic like that in months.
“See you around, Anais,” Eli calls behind me, drawing me from my fog. I throw him a wave over my shoulder and make my way to my desk.
Before I can take a seat, Evans voice stops me. “My office, Anais. Now.”
