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Sir.
I already regret telling her to call me that. It… does something to me. Every time she says it, something almost feral stirs deep within my core. Plenty of people call me sir or Mr. Stride, but it doesn’t sound as good as when it comes from her pouty little lips.
I know I’m staring and I know I should stop, but I’m hypnotized by her.
“Take your lunch break,” I tell her, refusing to give her an inch. To givemyselfan inch.
Eden shrugs and retreats to her desk, sitting down to unpack her food. I do my best to focus on the email I’ve spent the last twenty minutes drafting, but time and time again, I find myself peering over the top of my screen to watch her.
She keeps herself busy by setting up her workspace, adjusting her chair and setting out a notebook she brought from home. Eden eats while she reads from a big textbook of some sort, her brow furrowed in concentration as she chows down.
I can’t help myself and ask, “What are you reading?”
Eden shuts the textbook and shoves it away into her top drawer. “Nothing.”
I’m oddly not annoyed at her non-answer. I have half a mind to press the issue but think against it. “So, UCLA?”
“That’s right.”
“You used to tell everyone you wanted to go to Harvard.”
Eden smirks. “You remember that?” She pokes at her food with the tip of her fork. “Didn’t pan out. Wasn’t smart enough to get in.
I seriously doubt that.
“But UCLA’s just as good,” she continues. “Besides, I wanted to stick close in case Dad needed…” She trails off, her dazzling mismatched eyes growing dark.
“How’s Thomas doing?” I ask. I don’t actually care, but I figure it’ll make for good small talk.
“Fine,” she grumbles.
“What’s he been up to? Still directing?”
“Yep.”
“And your mother. Still acting?”
“I don’t know.”
I frown. “What do you mean you don’t know?”
Eden shifts in her seat. She avoids making eye contact with me. “I don’t talk to her much anymore. Not since the divorce.”
Ah, got it. Touchy subject.
“Why Spencer?” I ask.
She holds her head up, proud and maybe a little defensive. “I know it’s been a while since Dad’s had a super successful project, but his name still holds weight. I want to do things on my own terms, not have things handed to me just because I’m his daughter. I don’t want rumors of nepotism to follow me wherever I go. Everything I have, I earn.”
I’m impressed by her tenacity.
Her desk phone rings. She answers, fumbling with the clunky receiver. “Um, hi?”
I clear my throat. She gets my message.
“Oh, I mean, Hunter Stride’s office, how may I help you?”
I hold back a chuckle. At least she’s a quick study.
