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He leaned on the door-frame a sarcastic venomous look in his eyes. “Seems to me you were about to jump from my bed to his, just like that.” He clapped his fingers and folded his strong arms over his broad chest.
At that she simmered. Anger and rebellion showing boldly in her focus. “How dare you judge me without even asking for the facts?” She spilled in between her teeth.
They looked at each other in anger and strong-will. “I don’t need to ask. I witnessed it!”
“And jumped to conclusions, naturally!” Her hands came to her hips.
“It’s all too obvious, isn’t it?” He looked at her so beautiful in her defiance. A lightning of a thought sliced through his mind: If he lost her, he would lose everything.
“For your twisted mind, maybe!”
Mark’s blood boiled at that. “My twisted mind? Do you deny that the project-of-a-Latin-lover was merely inches from you, touching you in a very personal way?” The memory of them moments ago was burning him inside.
“You saw him doing something; certainly you didn’t see me doing anything!” She pointed her ten spread fingers at herself.
In quick strides he left the door-frame and came near her, holding her shoulders. “You are mine! Only mine! Don’t you forget that!”
She lifted her eyes to him in intense ire. “I am nobody’s!” She jerked her arms free. “I am my own!” She spat hotly.
They faced each other in rage, fuming breaths coming from both of them.
“You get this straight...” He begun to sentence, but she interrupted him.
“Out with you now!” She hissed. They needed to calm down before some irreparable mistake was made.
Their stares clashed and sparks jumped out of them. Amy kept her ground with hardness in her stiff body language. Reluctantly, he turned and left.
Amy sat on her chair in total upturned emotions. She hid her face on her hands and sighed nervously. That was an awkward situation to be caught in the midst of. Never had Mark’s possessiveness been so disturbing. She praised her freedom, her independence. Nevertheless, this torrid...connection had become part of her life. An important part; too important actually. She didn’t have a clue as to how to deal with this. All sorts of contradictory emotions criss-crossed her.
For the rest of the afternoon she worked in a rush of stress, directing her anger to her productivity. Her bright wide eyes were unblinking at the screen and her fingers dashed over the keyboard. By the end of the day the tumult was still there and she didn’t know what to do to spend it away. She decided to walk home. It’d take one hour and the exercise might do her good.
Mark rocketed downstairs, as he left Amy’s office, in a fog of jealousy, anger and f
rustration. It utterly disconcerted him to realise how deep his feelings for her ran; and how much he needed her in his life. He disappeared into his office room, sat in his chair with a big glass of water. It was necessary to get hold of himself before he did something stupid. Like punching damn Torres. And getting sued for that. To sit there drove him crazy. He sprang from the chair and started pacing the length of the room, hands clasped behind him. After a while he was less angry and more capable of taking action.
He walked swiftly through the corridors, knocked at Torres’ door and opened it without waiting for a reply. Juan lifted his head from the screen and faced Mark stoically. Mark closed the door silently behind him. He stopped in front of Torres, arms folded.
“What was it I saw upstairs?” He asked boldly, without caring if it was appropriated or not.
Juan sat back on his chair, one hand on its arm, the other under his chin. “I was trying to invite Amy out for dinner.” He said neutrally.
Those cold claws of jealousy squeezed Mark inside, but he made an inhuman effort to retain control. “What gave you the impression that you could make such a move?” Mark had to ask, or he’d be judging without knowing, as Amy had accused him of doing.
“As far as I know she’s not...seeing anybody.” Juan had a piercing look creeping in his brown eyes. “She goes straight home every day.” This last sentence was dripping in sarcasm.
Mark knew it was a bait and he was cornered. If he admitted anything, he’d implicate Amy without her acknowledgement. If he didn’t; he’d imply that she was free to be courted by that...person, which was inadmissible. “I’d take it easy if I were you.” He answered carefully, in a tone that warned Juan to maintain a distance.
Juan spread his arms on the chair. “Should I deduce that you are seeing her, in this case?”
Mark gave a hard look at Torres. “Deduce whatever you want.” But underneath the message was ‘keep away from her’.
Juan exhibited an understanding lopsided smile. “I see.” He murmured.
“I really hope you do.” Mark answered quietly and left the room.
But Mark returned to his room overflowingly dissatisfied. His real intention had been to reassert his association with Amy; only to find his hands were tied. This could easily become the gossip of the month. He’d have to take action concerning it. Straight away.
Amy heard the front door open and shut as she set the table for dinner. She was at a complete loss how to proceed, but she’d not hide in her room. Cowardice wasn’t her fashion. A lump of awkwardness was placed exactly on the location of her stomach, bowling up and down.
