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Following Acheron inside, Wickham saw his employer yank his tie off in a rare gesture of edgy impatience, and his concern deepened into worry. "Anything I can help you with, sir?"
"Just keep everyone out of my way." He still had four hours to kill before Pippi was set to clock out, and until then, burning calories at the fucking treadmill was the only likely thing to keep him from going insane.
Sixteen
ITHINK I'M STILL INshock.The words echoed endlessly in Pippi's mind while she went through the motions of acclimating herself with what would be her workplace for the next thirty days. The framed portrait of her family went to one corner while her wooden box of pens and highlighters went to another. She pulled her drawer open and started mechanically organizing the items that made up her survival kit at work. Her pad of sticky notes went to this side while her can of page tabs and metal clips went to the other. Her writing board went under this, and her dotted notebook went over that.
It was a mindless routine, which was unfortunate since this gave Pippi too much time to dwell on the four-minute conversation she had with Acheron. Even now, she had a hard time understanding how a day that had started so wonderfully could end in such a spectacularly dismal way. She had heard of relationships having its expected share of ups and downs, but surely this was too much?
Or maybe she had just been too blind and naive that she hadn't seen the trees for the forest, and Acheron really was a jerk, just like how all wealthy men—-
"Everything alright there?" Her new boss had come up to her desk, a puzzled look on his good-looking face. "You don't seem yourself somehow..."
Pippi took a deep breath, preparing herself to make up some lie, but the next thing she knew, she had her boss sputtering as she burst into tears. If she hadn't been so miserable, she might even have managed a teary laugh at the stunned expression that crossed Gareth Evans' face.
You're not alone,Pippi wanted to say. Because she was honestly shocked at herself as well.
Pippi had been alone at home when Great-Aunt Agatha had suddenly keeled over in front of her. Terrified out of her wits, she constantly fought against the urge to go into hysterics as she called 911 and did first aid while waiting for the paramedics.
It was only after Great-Aunt Agatha had successfully undergone her operation that Pippi allowed herself the luxury of tears, and she had done so in the shower, to hide the sound of her sobs.
That was how tough...she used to be.
Unlike now.
"I'm so sorry, Mr. Evans," Pippi choked out. "This isn't like me at all."
"You don't say." Her boss' voice, albeit dry, held a trace of sympathy that only sent more tears trailing down her cheeks.Oh God, to cry in public, and in front of Gareth Evans no less!
Pippi angrily snatched a sheet of tissue to blot her tears and attend to her runny nose.I hate you, Acheron Simonides. But what was supposed to be a thought spurred by pain and betrayal ended up making her cry harder. She was just sodisappointed,and when she thought of how her own family would feel even worse, since they'd be worrying about her, too—-
Damn you, damn you, damn you.
But most of all, she damned her heart for being so stupid.
Gareth had enough experience with women to know when they were crying over a man, which was surprisingly the case as well with his newly-hired secretary.Will wonders never cease, Gareth mused. He had initially thought her as someone either frigid or inexperienced, someone he would have to coax into blooming, but apparently another man had already beaten him to that.
