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And now, I’ve ruined it.
I thought by staying away, I was protecting her. I thought it was what’s best for her.
I try to call, but her phone goes straight to voicemail, so I decide fuck it, I’m going to go to her office and confront her in person.
When I make it past security and to her floor, I ask the receptionist where her office is and march down there like I own the fucking building before she has the chance to stop me.
I stand outside and brace myself.
I knock a couple of times, even though the door is open. When nobody tells me to come in, I figure she’s not there, so I walk in and look around the small space.
It’s old and tired, but Ariana has put some nice touches around the place, making it her own.
There’s a huge white board on one wall with names and dates, and a stack of open files on her desk. It looks like she’s got a fair bit on her plate.
I walk over to the bookcase and peruse the titles, though lord knows when she’d find time to read.
Then I go over to the window, but all I see is the building next door. No views. Nothing down below but a parking lot.
This is as dreary as all fuck. No wonder she wants to leave.
A few moments later, I hear someone at the door.
“I’ll get it all organized and email you the changes,” Ariana says.
I turn around at the same time her eyes look up and find mine.
There she is.
My beautiful girl.
Wearing a pastel blue skirt suit and low heels. Her hair spun like gold up in a bun, and she’s wearing fucking reading glasses. She looks like a naughty secretary, and I’m already feeling my cock spring to life for the first time since I got back from Mexico.
Her eyes look alarmed for a moment before she recovers.
“Yes, I will…” she goes on, halting in the doorway as I stare at her. “I agree, being that it’s a spring wedding, I’ll check which flowers will be in season and we can match the colors and get a costing. All right, that sounds great, I’ll speak to you soon. You too...”
She hangs up but doesn’t come any closer.
“Ariana,” I say, after a few moments of awkward silence.
“What are you doing here?” she breathes, looking like I’ve definitely caught her off guard.
“I wanted to see you,” I say, simply.
“Lukas,” she begins, then straightens her back and walks to her desk, sliding her phone onto it. “I don’t think that that’s such a good idea.”
“Why? Because you saw me with that woman, or you don’t want to see me?”
“Both.”
I frown. “Why don’t you want to see me?”
“I just don’t.” Her frown says it all.
“Fine, well the woman you saw me with is someone I dated some time back. I wasn’t there with her. She came up to me in the booth and wouldn’t leave. Why she felt it necessary to manhandle me, I don’t know. I assume it was to throw you off guard, and it seems she succeeded.”
“Like a pesky mosquito?” she snarks.
