“And now there’s something you need to do for me,” he said, as he sped towards the office.
“Yes?” I said nervously; I had no idea where he was going with this.
“We have a meeting later with my board members and the shareholders, and, as my assistant, you’ll be there taking notes. But I can’t have you wearing purple ruffles. At lunch you’ll go to the shop and get yourself something corporate-looking. Get at least two outfits.”
“Is that what you want me to do?” This was the last thing I’d expected him to say. But truthfully, I didn’t blame him. The top was hideous, and if I wasn’t trying to disguise myself as someone else, I would not have chosen to wear something like this. Not in a million years. But Doris seemed like the kind of character that didn’t care much about fashion. Besides, the clothes were from the telenovela, so they’d been free.
“Yes. Very much.” He sounded gruff and businesslike again, and I couldn’t help but wonder if this was how he treated his partner. Told her what to wear. Told her what pets she could have, told her not to stutter and fidget and put newspaper down onherfloor.
“Okay. Sure,” I conceded.
He pulled the credit card out again and passed it to me. I paused before taking it. This felt weird.
“It’s not a gift, Miss Granger. I’ll take it out of your salary at the end of the month, along with pigeon stuff—that is . . .” He paused and looked at me pointedly. “When you decide to tell me what you think you’re worth.”
I took the card, slipped it into my bag, and the two of us fell into another bone-crunchingly awkward silence.What was with these silences?They weren’t normal silences. These silences had a sound that wrapped around us and filled the car. A buzzing, scratching, prickly sound that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Persistent white-static silences that seemed to be filled with some kind of strange, silent subtext.
What was it?I didn’t know.
CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
Ryan
He was babysitting a pigeon. In his office.
He looked down at the thing. It stared up at him as if it was trying to tell him something. Doris hadn’t wanted to go to the shops unless he watched it!Watched a fucking pigeon.He tried to work, but the sound of its claws walking across the cardboard box was driving him crazy and making his skin crawl.
“Shut up.” He looked down at it again and it glared back at him, as if it were judging him. “Yeah, yeah, buddy! I’m the reason you’re still alive so stop looking at me like that, okay!?”
“You know you’re talking to a pigeon, right?” Doris’s amused voice wafted into his office and he froze, embarrassed to have been caught like this.
He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “We were just renegotiating the terms of this babysitting arrangement. That’s all.” He looked up at her, and when he did . . .crap!He knew he hadn’t been able to hide the look that must have flashed across his face. He knew this, because her cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink.
“That looks better.” He forced his eyes back down to his desk before the look on his face gave too much away. He heard her approach and then saw the credit card on his desk. He reached for it and, without looking back at her, put it into his drawer.
“Thanks,” she said softly.
“It’s not a gift,” he said, allowing himself one quick look up at her. She looked stunning. She was wearing a simple knee-length black dress that was cinched in at the waist, showing off her petite figure.
“Please take this bird now!” he said.
“Sure. Thanks for watching him.”
“It wasn’t my pleasure,” he grunted. She bent down to pick up the box and that’s when he noticed the label sticking out of her dress.
“You haven’t taken off the label.” He pointed at her neck.
She stood up, stuck her hand behind her back and began trying to pull the label off. She was struggling, bending her arms into strange positions as she tried to get a better grip on it. He couldn’t take it anymore. He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a pair of scissors.
“Turn around,” he barked, waving the scissors at her. For a second she looked like she didn’t trust him, but she finally turned. Like this, he could appreciate the back of her dress. The way it clung to her body, the long zip accentuating her curves as it ran the length of her back and stopped just above her bottom. His hand physically twitched as he imagined dropping the scissors and taking the zip between his fingers instead. She glanced over her shoulder at him, as if wondering why he hadn’t started yet. He stepped closer and took the label between his fingers. He could smell her again now. That powdery, floral scent that had been so hard to wash off the other night. He snipped the label off carefully, not wanting to damage the dress. He looked at the back of her neck; she had a very distinctive mole just below her hairline and, at this angle, it looked like the African continent. It fascinated him for some reason.
“Thanks.” She turned around slowly and, for a moment, their eyes locked.Like pools of molten gold, he thought, as the overhead lights in the office accentuated the luminous color of her eyes. He quickly looked away and walked back to his desk.
“Meeting in an hour. You need to take notes,” he said over his shoulder. “And get that pigeon out of my office, please.”
“No problem, Mr. Stark,” she said, sounding upbeat.
He was trying to talk with confidence and sound intelligent, but she was very distracting. She was sitting in the corner taking notes, but her tongue kept wandering out of her mouth every time she wrote. And he couldn’t have any distractions now. This meeting was important. Tensions were flying high. Tensions were always high.
