“Where?”
“I . . . I thought that maybe I could show you how to file the hard copies of the financials.” That didn’t sound as convincing as he’d wanted it to sound.
“You want to show me how to file?” She looked confused.
He nodded. “Did you even know we had a filing room?” he asked.
She shook her head, “No. I didn’t.”
“Well, don’t you think that’s something you should know?” he asked. “As my assistant. Because you will need to file things in it.”
“Uh . . . sure. I guess it would be good to know where it is.” She stood up, straightening the creases in her shirt.
He couldn’t help but be transfixed by her hands, as they ran over her curves, flattening the material against her waist.
“Okay, let’s go,” she said.
He was going to take her to the filing room alright . . . only, he had absolutely no intention of showing her how to file. He had every intention of showing her something else entirely . . .
CHAPTERSIXTY-TWO
Poppy
The filing room was just that, a massive room filled, floor to ceiling, with rows and rows of files. I looked around and sighed; this definitely looked like something I would have no idea how to do.
“So what do you want me to do with these files, then?” I turned and asked, as he closed the door behind us.
“Nothing. I don’t want you to do anything with the files.” He stepped closer to me.
“Well, then why are we in the filing room?”
“I wanted to thank you,” he said.
“For what?”
“Emmy went to school this morning without a fight—in fact, I haven’t seen her in such a good mood in a while,” he said.
“It’s my pleasure.” I smiled up at him.
And then, without warning, he took a step closer to me and, in one swift movement, pulled me into his arms. His arms were huge and I felt completely dwarfed by them. He pulled me in tightly and my head connected with his large, hard chest. I froze against it.
“You’re hugging me?” My voice was muffled against his chest.
“Yes,” he replied. His tone was soft.
“Didn’t you say no hugging once?” I teased.
“I did,” he said. “I said many things, once upon a time.”
I breathed him in and he smelt good. Very good. He was warm, and the hug felt comforting. I turned my head and put my cheek to his chest. I could hear his heart beating; it sounded fast. I could feel his chest rising and falling gently every time he breathed, like small waves ebbing and flowing in the sea. I synced my breath with his and held onto him.
“So how long do we hug for?” I asked after what felt like hours of holding onto him.
I felt him shrug against my body. “I have absolutely no idea.”
“You seem to not know a lot of things, these days,” I said.
His arms loosened and drifted up to my shoulders. He pulled my body away slightly, so he could look in my eyes.
