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A façade.
A way to pull me forward like prey, then pounce on me, devour my flesh, and crunch my bones.
“Are you going to stand there all day?”
I flinch, partly because my illusion that this is a dream is long gone. He’s right there, in person, and waiting. And partly because of his voice. It’s so deep but laced with a velvet-like quality. Which makes him sound approachable when he’s anything but. He also sounded disapproving just now, as if I’m a worthless rock in his shoe.
“Either come inside and close the door or get out. Leave your access card at HR while you’re at it.”
I force myself out of my haze and close the door with clammy, trembling fingers.
This job is important, not only for me but also for Jayden.
So what if I feel like dissociating from my own skin or digging my own grave? What if I feel like turning back, running, and never seeing those blue eyes again?
It doesn’t matter.
Jay’s survival and health do.
If I have to work for Daniel in order to provide for him, then so be it. Besides, there’s no flash of recognition on his features, so maybe he forgot about me.
Maybe he erased everything that happened between us and he’s now a new man who couldn’t give a damn about the past.
The thought tugs on those stupid heartstrings and I inhale deeply to put a halt to my reaction. But it’s all involuntary, pulled out from deep inside me by an invisible force I can’t control.
“Good morning, I’m the new assistant. My name is Nicole Adler.” I’m thankful my voice doesn’t waver and remains calm, almost as neutral as his indifference.
“I don’t care about your name. I’ll forget it once you fail the trial period.” He stares at his luxurious Swiss watch before he slides his icy stare back at me. “And it’s half past eight, which means you’re late, so there’s nothing specifically good about this morning.”
My stomach contracts and it has to do with his harsh words as much as his voice. I need to get used to it right away if I want to stay professional and keep this job.
“I’m sorry about that, but I had to finish up some paperwork with HR and—”
“All I hear are meaningless excuses,” he cuts me off. “Don’t repeat such behavior or your trial period will end before it even starts. Are we clear?”
“Yes,” I say, even though I want to scream, and not about this situation, but about all the chaotic thoughts and lines broken up inside me like distorted music playing underwater.
I want to scream and ask him if he’ll really pretend he doesn’t know me. He must’ve seen my résumé. He knows it’s me. I doubt he’s known many Nicole Adlers in his life.
But why does it matter?
In fact, I should be happy that it’s impersonal. That way, I can pretend this is only work that I’m using to keep a roof over my and Jay’s heads.
“Good.” He stands up and I suck in a harsh breath, hoping to hell he doesn’t hear it.
He was magnetic while sitting, but when he’s at his full height, it’s almost too blinding and unbearable to look at.
Not only is he tall, but he also has a mystic, attractive way of carrying himself. His shoulders are straight, his wide chest in perfect proportion with his jacket, and his trousers outline his long legs and thighs. I wonder if they’re still muscular from when he played football back in junior and secondary school.
The thought is chased away from my head when he rounds his desk, then leans against it, his legs crossed at the ankles as he faces me.
He seems to be waiting for something, but I’m not sure what, so I ask, “Do you need anything?”
“Your brain, Ms. Adler, or did you leave that at home this morning?”
I grind the back of my teeth, then I breathe in copious intakes of air. “If you tell me what you need, I’ll get right to it.”
“What else would I need from you other than taking notes of what I want to be done?”
