“No, I’ll be ok.” I grin weakly.
“I’ll call and check up on you every now and then.” He gives my shoulder a reassuring pat as he walks me out of his office.
Once back in the main room, I see a handful of people hovering close to a cubicle. Wiping my tears, I rush to my desk, ignoring their stares of sympathy. I definitely don’t want to see that right now, considering how vulnerable I feel. I’m thankful for these new cubicles, and I take a moment to collect myself as I sit down to find a notification from my coordinator Sasha, who sits across from me. She’s sent me a direct message on Teams so as not to draw attention.
Sasha: Myssa you ok?
Me: Yeah, why?
Sasha: Pretty sure the whole office heard Pete. You could hear a pin drop out here.
Sighing, I look over at her and shrug.
Me: I’m taking some time off. I’ll send you a list of what needs to be done and forward you any upcoming meetings I’m going to miss.
Sasha: Ok, no worries, Myssa. I’ll take care of it.
Catching her eye, I mouth, “Thank you.”
She nods and gets back to work.
A few hours later, I send Sasha the outstanding tasks and close my laptop before standing up and grabbing my things. Sasha stands and walks over, wordlessly wrapping her arms around me. I smile, nod, and quietly head down the hall to the elevator.
After pressing the button for the elevator, I take my phone out to text Vix, letting her know what’s going on, and seeing if she wants to meet up for coffee. God knows I need my bestie right now. Plus, she had an interview at a club this morning, and I’m curious about how it went.
Vix and I have been best friends since high school. A rebel in her own right, she was her own party. She chased her dream of being a bartender as soon as she’d graduated. The end game was to eventually run a club—she wanted to learn everything from the ground up on her own.
Still in mid-text, I hear the elevator ding. The doors open, and I walk in, eyes focused on the message I’m finishing when I sense someone in the elevator.
As I look up, the amber eyes transfixed on me unleash a rippling surge of static that pierces every single nerve ending, causing me to pause. Long, dark strands of hair kiss his brows and frame his face, and his strong bone structure gives him a mysterious aura. I realize the small noise that just came from mewas loud enough to hear, as a small quirk lifts his full lips. Lips that invite you for a taste, and all I could think was,don’t mind if I do.
I can’t help but notice the dark ink that begins at the nape of his neck, trailing below his black dress shirt, and peeking back out at his wrist, before wrapping around a skull on his hand. As I drink him in, the more I feel this undeniable pull from him, a small tug in my chest that attempts to reach out to him. I force myself to blink, grounding myself back to earth from a high I didn’t know could exist.
Jesus, Myssa, get a grip.
“I—uh—” I stutter. “I’m sorry.”
Quickly averting my eyes, I take my spot in the back corner of the elevator. My fingers vigorously tap my phone screen as I try to look like I wasn’t just eye fucking him ten seconds ago. I finish up my text to Vix and hit send. My eyes still glued to the phone, I mindlessly check my email to avoid looking up.
He’s out of your league, Myssa—hell, he’s out of your universe.My mother’s torments seep through, cementing the doubt.
“Why can’t you be more like your sister?”
“You know, if you would go on a diet, you wouldn’t have this problem—maybe then you could find a boyfriend, too.”
Fighting off the negativity ricocheting in my head, I take a quick glance, and I can’t help but notice this weird connection I feel to him. The temptation to touch him is an itch I want to scratch.
Of course, my mind goes into overdrive as I attempt to figure out what to do with myself. It feels like an eternity since the doors had closed. The elevator stops on the floor below, and a few men in suits, smelling like they’d bathed in cologne, walk in, they paying no mind to us as they continue discussing their conquests from the night before.
“Did you see that blonde last night?” the tall man says, leaning into the other guy.
“Dude, see her? I got her number,” he says, straitening his tie.
“Bullshit, bro, prove it,” the tall man says, playfully pushing the other.
I roll my eyes and continue to scroll Instagram, ignoring the two douche canoes in front of me. Trying to be nonchalant, I slowly try to peek over to the man who’d caught my attention, all the while giving myself a little pep talk.Keep cool, Myssa, a few more floors.
Instead, I start to spiral.
