Chapter Five #2
There was a very good reason that any attraction she felt had needed to be squashed instantly.
She didn’t want anything to do with...that feeling that he created at the center of her chest. It was like there was a tuning fork just there at the center of her rib cage, and looking at him struck it, sending a note radiating throughout her entire being.
It had been that way from the first moment she set eyes on him, and it had been her cue to find something else to distract her. Someone else.
And now she was holding his hand.
Grappling with the intense honesty unraveling inside of her.
Because she hadn’t thought all of this through.
It was her natural instinct. Her survival mechanism kicking in.
She hadn’t thought: Do not ever look at this man, look at this one instead who will never create complicated emotions inside of you, but will feel easy and fun.
No, really don’t look at your boss, because he could wreck you.
It had been as natural as a gazelle turning and running from a predator in the grass.
But now that her skin was touching his she was forced to engage with the truth.
This was dangerous. She had walked straight into the lion’s den.
Or maybe more appropriately she had taken herself right down into the underworld, into Hades’s lair.
It was difficult to feel any sympathy for Persephone when she caused her own problems.
“Are we taking a car?”
She shook her head. “No. The jewelry store’s just several blocks up that way, and I thought it would be good if we walked.
Because you know...” She cleared her throat and started to walk.
He was behind her a step for only a moment, and then took the lead, which she thought was absurd, because he didn’t even really know where they were going.
“I’m the one who knows where it is,” she pointed out.
“You said this way. I’ll find it.”
For some reason that felt poignant to her. She should be mad at him. Instead, it made her think about his childhood. About how he hadn’t had anyone to guide him all that time. Of course he’d had to be decisive. Of course he’d had to take the lead even when he didn’t know where he was going.
And look where it had gotten him.
Why are you feeling sympathy for him when you should punch him?
The paradox of Alexios Economides. The rest of the world might look at him and see an emotionless man with all the power and money in the world who didn’t deserve any sort of compassion or sympathy or leeway. She saw something else, and she hated that she did.
Because had she done enough human projects in her life?
She knew the outcome of it too. Nothing she had ever said or done had changed the way that her parents acted.
And her siblings had followed right along with them.
They had no self-awareness; they had no desire to be better, to be different.
It was like everybody was born into the same toxic sludge and decided to keep rolling around in it. It could never be her.
It could just never be her.
But she didn’t see toxic sludge when she looked at Alex, unfortunately. And part of her did want to change him.
She was relieved when they came upon the jewelry store, because it gave her an excuse to talk, and not think anymore. And definitely not focus on the way it felt for her hand to be in his.
When they walked into the glorious store, they were greeted by a short woman with a blunt bob and bangs, and glasses that took up over a third of her face.
“Good afternoon Mr. Economides, and bride,” she said. “When I received the notification that you wished to come in and have a look at the jewelry selection today I immediately cleared the schedule.”
Alex regarded the woman coolly. “How lovely. Though, it was my bride, Verity Carmichael, who made the arrangements for today.”
There was a subtle scolding in the words, as though he was making it clear that she was to be addressed as an equal to him. The problem was, it was performative. Funny, because she had never really seen Alex perform. Normally, he was exactly who he appeared to be.
She didn’t think she liked this.
Because there was always a little bit of distance between the two of them. There was distance between Alex and everyone. But this was different. This required translation. She wasn’t used to having to do that with Alex.
“Apologies,” the woman said. “Of course. My name is Laura Braxton, and I’m the manager of the gallery. Whatever you’re looking for, we have it here.”
She looked at Alex. “I... I don’t know what I want,” she said. That much was honest.
“I know exactly what you should have,” Alex said.
“Oh?”
He nodded. “I would like to see a selection of pink diamonds. Yellow gold for the setting.”
Perhaps Alex had never been engaged before but she wondered how many women he had bought jewelry for.
But then, as he had said only recently, he didn’t need romance to get sex.
She had certainly never seen him buying jewelry for anyone before, and yet he seemed utterly at ease and confident in this setting.
Though, that was just him.
He seemed to take for granted that he belonged wherever he was.
The trick she had never mastered. She always wanted to make herself small. Make herself disappear so that she wouldn’t be visible, so that she wouldn’t cause any problems. And wouldn’t have any anger directed at her.
She had learned not to do that, but it still wasn’t second nature to stand like he did, with straight posture and broad shoulders, like he was the master of all he surveyed.
Ironic, because it seemed like the world was asking him to show a little bit more humility. Normally, she would enjoy that on a poetic level, because so many times in life men were given passes that women simply weren’t, but in this instance, she found it annoying.
Because Alex wasn’t the standard rich boogeyman that needed to be taken down.
He had been through...hell. He had clawed his way up into his position.
He hadn’t been handed something by a dying relative, given chances simply because of who he was related to.
She thought that should matter. That people should see who he actually was.
Instead, they wanted him to sublimate his trauma and perform for them in the way they saw fit.
Honestly, she would be really annoyed about it if he hadn’t just co-opted her entire life.
It only took a moment for a tray of pink diamonds to appear.
Verity had never given much thought to what sort of ring she would like.
Mainly because she had never thought about getting engaged. Of course, if she wanted a ring she could buy one for herself, but nothing this beautiful.
How had he been right? That was what she couldn’t understand. Because these were the most beautiful rings she had ever seen in her life. Gleaming pink surrounded by that glorious gold. There was one at the center, pear shaped surrounded by darker pink gems in the shape of seeds.
“You found one you like,” he said, his eyes trained on her, not on the jewels. She felt like she was pinned to the spot. Felt like he was looking into her, and it wasn’t the first time she had felt that with him.
She didn’t know how he could maintain that he was entirely unable to connect with people, that he didn’t know a way to make them...like him, when it was so clear to her that if he took a moment he could see exactly what another person was thinking. He was insightful. Not just with machines.
Maybe it was just it was a skill he had never valued before, so it wasn’t one he overly identified with.
One he didn’t care about.
“Maybe,” she said.
She was very aware that they were supposed to seem like a normal couple.
That she needed to appear to be flirting with him, or something.
But she was as much a novice at that as he claimed to be.
The only man she had ever tried to flirt with was Stavros, and that hadn’t gone well at all. Of course, that was Alex’s fault.
He reached his hand out, and he plucked the exact one she had been looking at from the center of the tray. “This one would suit you,” he said.
She didn’t want to betray how beautiful she thought it was. That he had chosen the one she had set her sights on unerringly. But she didn’t know how to hide it either. This was such a strange moment, outside of his office, unguarded without the strictures of their work environment.
In the office, they had a set pattern for how to be.
But out here, they had held hands. And now he was standing there holding a ring out to her.
She could only think to do one thing in response.
She extended her left hand, and tried to ignore that her fingers were trembling.
She knew that he would be able to see it. She knew that she couldn’t hide this.
He said nothing, though; he merely extended his own hand, and took hold of hers. Then with his other slipped the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly, like she was some sort of corporate Cinderella who was most definitely going to turn into a pumpkin at midnight—or at least six months from now.
But it was perfect. Beautiful beyond measure, and when she looked up into his eyes her breath was pulled straight from her lungs.
She couldn’t move. It was something like being prey in the sights of a predator, and yet it felt all the more dangerous.
There was a sickly sweet feeling in the back of her throat, and her limbs felt languid.
There was a deep response at the center of her thighs that she could feel yawn through her entire being.
These were feelings she had never experienced when she had looked at Stavros.
She had felt something pleasant when she interacted with him. Butterflies.
This was nothing like that. It wasn’t the fluttery feeling you got with a grade-school crush.