Seconds pass as I stare at it, dumbfounded, before I guess and pick one up. I bend down and hand it to the child.
I hope it’s blue. “Here.”
Her eyes narrow at the ball, but then her smile returns. “Thank you!”
I tug at my clothes while standing up. That never gets any easier, but it’s either guess or let everyone I talk to know I’m colorblind. The latter always brings on a never-ending slew of questions that I don’t have the time or energy for.
Which means I swap those for people looking at me like I’ve grown an extra eye when I can’t pick a color, exactly like Kingsley’s doing right now. I meet his gaze and my brows furrow, asking, “What?”But he doesn’t look away, jaw clenched, stance firm, challenging me.
“Do we have an issue?” he asks.
I feign a gasp. “So he speaks.”
His lips form a line, unamused. “Only when it’s worth my time.”
“Is this worth your time?” I wait for a response, but he only nods. “Doesn’t seem like it. Out of curiosity, how do you think this persona will go over with the public? Surely they’ll notice your drastic personality change, which, by the way, is like whiplash from the way the media portrays you.”
“I don’t think that’s any of your concern.”
“Seeing as I’m the one making sure these advertisements reach the people, I say that it is.” Shrugging, I turn my back. “I’m only suggesting stuff, but what do I know? I’m only an employee.”
Kingsley stands before me, arms folded across his chest. “Yeah, you’re my employee. I’m your boss, and your attitude will get you nowhere but out the door.”
He holds his glare, and I give it right back. We’re practically the same height, me maybe a smidge taller than him, but nowhere near enough to make him look up at me.
King’s so close I can feel his breath. With two fingers, he taps my temple and says, “Get that into that pretty little head of yours, darling.”
I throw my head back, moving away from his touch as heat crawls up my neck.Darling.It’s so condescending coming from his mouth; he’s patronizing me.
So why don’t I hate it?
Perhaps the same reason I don't mind how his hand has now brushed against my upper thigh a total ofthreetimes, despite my best efforts to believe otherwise. Is he even aware that he’s doing it? Doubt it, but I sure am.
I can’t start thinking this way. My goal is to work, gather intel on him, and maybe kill him if it comes down to it. Not fight off a boner every time the man I’m working against happens to brush his hand against my thigh.
He said he’s my boss. If we’re being technical, his parents are above me, but saying that out loud sounds ridiculous. Hell, what am I saying? None of them are above me because this isn’t my fucking job.
Yet another reason we need to speed this along. Kingsley hasn’t got a clue who I am or where I come from. He may think he has the power here, but if things go to shit, he’ll be the first one to feel my tight hands around his throat, squeezing until the light leaves his eyes.
Because if thingsdofall apart, they’ll take us out if we don’t take them out first.
Kingsley, only inches away, doesn’t move until I give a sharp nod, the fucker.
“Kingsley.” Thomas stands before us again, out of the loo—thank goodness. “We got some good clips to use, so I’llget started on this right away. Can we do another session tomorrow?”
“That’s good with me.” He gives a closed-lipped smile.
Thomas yaps to Kingsley about what tomorrow will entail, and I follow in silence, shocked at how much my brother has already planned. I have to hand it to him; he’s stepped up his game.
Kingsley listens to Tommy, but doesn’t have much to add as per usual. I’m clutching my pants, chest still tight from what he said. Not only are we off to a bad start at the friendship thing, but he probably loathes me.
I haven’t got him all figured out, but I did see something. Kingsley’s words, albeit few, are very calculated. He has a certain way about him; his eating, his posture, and his fashion all appear thrown-together, but he clearly thinks them through. It’s like he stepped out of some glossy magazine.
Similar to that of a prince.
5
Kingsley
