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The elevator stops and he lets go, standing to his full height. My skin feels flushed and hot and all he did was touch me.Caress me.
It’s scary how a single touch can affect me so vividly.
We step out and he places his palm on my lower back. I’m still daydreaming when I realize we’ve reached a glass-walled conference room,which is right across from his private office. I don’t miss how the blinds to his are open unlike the last time.
“I asked my assistant to set up the room for your meetings,” Dash speaks, putting my purse on the long mahogany table. “She’ll send each of the executives one by one once you’ve settled. Let her know if you need anything else.”
“Thank you,” I say politely before innocently asking, “and will you be watching me all day? Can’t take your eyes off me, darling?”
“I have seven years to make up for, kitten.”
My stomach flips when he says it so casually. I thought Dash’s hate and possessiveness was dangerous but it doesn’t hold a light to his romantic and unbidden side. It’s more powerful and addictive than any drug could be. Deadlier than any poison could be.
And he doesn’t even know he’s being romantic.
It’s what makes the butterflies take flight in my chest.
Our eyes are still locked when we’re interrupted by his assistant, whose name I remember is Lara from when he told me a while back. Giving me one last heated look, Dash heads to his office where he perches behind his king-like desk. I’m staring in his direction when Lara clears her throat and I flick my gaze to her sheepishly.
“Side effect of being newly wed,” she says with a laugh and flashes her own wedding band. “My husband and I were the same.”
“Sometimes I hardly believe he’s mine.”
“I’m sure he feels the same.” Switching topics, she passes me a document. “I printed the meeting schedule with the executives’ names so you know who will be joining you.”
I grab and look it over. “Thank you.”
“You have time before Mr. Singh arrives. I’ll let you be,” she informs me. “I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”
“Cool.”
In the midst of the chaos of everything else, I completely got sidetracked from my first solo project. The one my mentor and boss is counting on me to slay. If the rumors are true, it might lead to a promotion. So, I cannot fuck this up because it will depend on the testimonials. For the next one hour, I look over the material I brought in preparation for the interviews and a common questionnaire. My goal for today is to get a sense of their individual style and blend it with a common theme.
“Hey, Bianca, Mr. Singh is here,” interrupts Lara, poking her head through the door. “Shall I send him in?”
“Yes, please. I’m all set.” I rise from my chair just as he enters the room and I greet him with a small smile. “Good morning, Mr. Singh.”
“Please call me Jay.”
He shakes my hand with a firm grip and I regard him silently. He appears to be in his fifties with a warmth radiating from him that tells me he must be well liked. Something about him instantly puts me at ease.
Once we sit down, him across from me, I begin my first meeting with excitement building in my chest.
“So, Jay, what is your vision for your ideal space?”
Time flies as I talk to Jay, who is absolutely hilarious and jovial as he regales me with stories about work and family. This is one of the perks of being an interior designer. I meet all kinds of people who are unique in their own ways. Almost like you’re reading a book where you live a hundred lives. Of course, it does wonders to bring your clients’ visions to life, which is its own kind of rush.
All through the meeting, I feel Dash’s stare digging into my back and try not to squirm. It's as if we are tethered by an invisible thread. It takes all my power not to succumb to the temptation and do the same. How I am able to focus on listening is a mystery.
After Jay, who invited me and Dash for lunch, I interview two more top executives before Lara pokes her head in again. I look up when she taps on the door and I’m instantly curious by the expression on her pretty face. Nervousness reflects in them.
“About your next meeting,” she hesitantly says.
I frown while skimming the doc to familiarize myself with the name. “Is Aditya late or something?”
“No. It’s just he’s kind of a flirt in the office,” she explains before wincing like she’s embarrassed. “He’s a little cocky but harmless. Still—”
I cut her off after sensing the hidden meaning. “You’re worried Dash will be pissed.”
