Chapter 10 Full Moon Grumpiness
Full Moon Grumpiness
AVA
The ride home had been uneventful.
I wasn’t sure if Xavier would try something with me or was just truly being nice. But we made small talk the entire way, he answered a few calls that seemed mundane, his driver was quiet and I just watched the city go by before we stopped in front of the corporate apartments.
He kissed my hand again, waited for me to get in safe, and I slept like crap.
Now, I’m almost late for work.
I grab Eli’s latte and quickly shuffle into the office. Gabe is nowhere to be seen until I knock softly on Eli’s door and hear a gruff get in.
I’m wearing a simple black pair of trousers with purple heels and a loose white shirt tucked into them. I kept my hair away from my neck at first, then decided to let it down.
“Good morning!” I force as cheerfully and painfully awkward as I can and quickly go over to Eli’s desk and set down the latte, he’s on the phone but immediately gets off of it the minute he sees me.
Gabe gives his head a small shake in my direction as if to say, not the time to say good morning, as if it’s the worst sort of morning.
Eli points a pen at the latte.
“What’s this?”
I frown.
“You’re morning latte.”
“You keep it,” he grumbles.
“Apparently, anger is fueled by caffeine, so my therapist cut me off.”
My eyes widen, I internally panic.
“Do you think that’s a good idea?”
His nostrils flare.
“Yup, okay.” I quickly grab the latte.
“I’ll take this far, far away.”
“Take it into your stomach and get me my schedule for the day, it’s a full moon over the next few days.”
Is this some sort of weird astrology thing?
“Um, okay, is there a reason we avoid full moons?”
“The transformation.” Gabe winks.
“Totally kidding, he’s just suspicious, and he’s been working like a dog for the last few weeks before his assistant quit, so I told him it would be wise to take some time for himself.”
“I don’t need time for myself.” Eli chucks a pen toward Gabe, but Gabe catches it midair and calmly sets it on the table.
Gabe smiles down at the pen.
“Could have been worse, that stapler hurt like shit last week.”
I start to slowly back away.
“I don’t have that good of an aim or catch, so maybe I’ll just approach if asked, and I’ll email the schedule to you—”
“—Do you or do you not assist me?” Eli jumps to his feet and slams his hands onto his desk.
Gabe looks unfazed.
“Yes.” I nod slowly.
“I do.”
“Great, then print it off like an assistant would and come in here and read it to me, send a copy to Gabe, copy me and yourself in, do you think you can manage to do that?”
“Yes sir, yes, right away.” I scramble out of the room and chug half the latte before I set it on my desk.
He’s terrifying.
Menacing.
Rude!
The door shuts behind me a minute later. Gabe walks up to me, his sigh palpable.
“He really is a great boss he just… needs a break, he has a lot of stress.”
“So he chooses to stress everyone else out and project all his grumpiness on his employees?” What a great human being!
Gabe makes a face and crosses his arms over his black shirt. Just where did this guy come from? He’s tall like Eli, looks like he lives to run and go to the gym and has a kind smile. He pushes away from the table and puts a hand on my shoulder.
“It gets easier to deal with, send his schedule over when you can and let me know what you want to order for lunch.” He walks off like his partner's behavior isn’t a problem.
By the time I’m done emailing everyone and printing things off, my stomach hurts from being so hungry, I quickly message Gabe and tell him that anything would do at this point, then knock on Eli’s door.
“Come in,” he says gruffly.
Here we go. I open the door and walk toward his desk and sit in a nearby chair, crossing my legs.
When I don’t say anything, he frowns at me.
“You’re not camping out, you can stand if you want, you look uncomfortable, besides I can feel your hunger from my desk.”
I exhale, get to my feet and walk to the middle of the office.
He gets up abruptly and walks around the desk with his tree trunk thighs and menacing height.
I start to back away and put some distance between us when my heel gets caught on the rug; I start flailing backward until strong, warm arms suddenly catch me before I crack my head against the marble flooring.
It's Eli.
But he was in front of me, how’d he catch me from behind?
His eyes are so blue and hypnotic. His hands warm, they almost take up my entire upper back.
“Are you okay?”
My eyebrows shoot up.
“I think the fall was less surprising than you asking that question.”
His firm mouth draws into a small, barely there smile.
“Guess I deserved that, it’s just hard to control sometimes.”
“Your rudeness?”
Suddenly I’m back on my wobbly feet.
“So…” He coughs into his hand.
“My schedule?”
I take a deep breath.
“You meet with angel investors at noon for the new children's program, the marketing team for the Y right after that and—”
He holds up his hand.
“Not trying to be an ass, Ava, but you can’t just tell me what time and who they are.
I need details along with the schedule. Am I driving?
What’s the weather like? Do I have any downtime in between the meetings, or will the car meet me at the restaurant?
What are the biographies of each individual?
How much money for the marketing budget?
And how much are the investors willing to give?
You aren’t in trouble, I just need every minute detail. ”
Tears well in my eyes. I hate being corrected, especially when I know the person is right and I look like I’ve been lazy.
“Sorry, it won’t happen again, let me go find all the answers and I’ll come back in.”
“Go.” It’s not a bark, it’s more gentle in nature, but he doesn’t even make eye contact, so I disappear out of his office and tell myself.
Round 2.
It takes me three hours to find all the information he needed, and I end up eating soup and bread at my desk—I’m not complaining, though it was amazing.
I want to take my heels off so badly, instead I make a second journey to his door, knock, wait for him to tell me to come in.
I expect him to be behind his desk, instead his white sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. I see the tribal tattoo again and quickly look away. His caramel brown hair is mussed like he’s been stressed.
He turns to me, he’s so close I can smell him again.
“Back already?”
I keep my mouth shut but want to fight. Does he not realize I’ve been working on this since this afternoon?
I nod my head and suddenly feel the ponytail holder slip from my hair. I want to moan; it happens all the time, my hair just having a mind of its own and breaking free from the elastic band and thrusting itself at people.
I swear if I have one more guy try to seduce me by pulling my hair… He notices immediately, his nostrils flare and it’s like he’s frozen in place before he marches over to his desk.
Great, I’m going to get yelled at again.
He grabs something from inside his desk and picks the ponytail holder off the ground.
“Turn.”
“Pardon?”
It’s like he’s trying to hold his breath.
“Please turn around.”
Slowly, I turn around, then look over my shoulder. What the heck is he going to do with two paper clips and a broken elastic band?
I’m starting to wonder if he’s just going to pull them apart and stab me on either side of the neck he’s taking so long, then suddenly massive hands wrap around my hair, grazing my shoulders in the process, he gently pulls my hair back into a low ponytail and wraps the hair perfectly inside it, nice and tug.
“All done. You can turn around now.”
I touch the back of my hair.
“Did you just MacGyver a broken elastic band with paperclips?”
He doesn’t smile, no, he just frowns.
“Who can’t?”
“Normal people?” I offer.
He shrugs his massive shoulders.
“I’m not normal.”
I can’t stop staring at his full mouth and the way his tongue licks out on his full bottom lip. In moments like this, when he isn’t frowning or speaking, I see all of the appeal.
If he doesn't date, has done other things? I’m suddenly very curious.
He cocks his head to the side and holds out his hand, embarrassment washes over when I give him my hand only to have him reach for the black leather portfolio in the other.
I quickly jerk away, mouth dry.
“Everything should be in there, I can read it out loud to you if you want?”
He holds up a finger like he’s trying to concentrate, great now I’m getting silenced. Well, we had one small moment, I guess.
I wait for his eyes to roam over the schedule and turn to look out his windows. The moon isn’t full, but it has an orangish hue, it’s really pretty as the sun starts to set. He’s clearly taking his time in reading, at least he’s not yelling and at least I have a full stomach, and a pretty view.
“This part.” He’s suddenly behind me, making me jump a foot and stumble back against him. The portfolio falls to the ground, papers go flying around our feet and I’m once again leaning back against him, with his hands on my shoulders. I look up to my right and try to get away.
“Don’t. Move,” he rasps, his eyes seem to glow a bright blue, but it’s probably a trick of the light. Except I can feel his arousal against my body. He’s hard as steal. I try moving again.
“I said…” His voice deepens.
“Don’t move.”
A plethora of emotions cross his face from lust to despair, back to anger and irritation that he’s touching me.
His words from the gala come back to haunt me.
Basically calling me ugly without makeup, ugly without his money. Suddenly hurt all over again, I jerk away as hard as I can and stumble forward toward the door.
A hand grips my wrist and flips me around, whipping my hair around my face.
His eyes are blazing blue.
“I told you not to move!”
“You scared me!” I yell back.
“Oh, is that fear I smell?” He inhales deeply and tilts my chin toward his.
“They’re all the same. Every last one. Who sent you? Why are you really here?”
“What?” I search his eyes in confusion.
“To get a job, you paranoid psychopath!”
“You should run.” He chuckles.
“And see what happens to this paranoid psychopath. I won’t ask again, who sent you?”
“The agency!” I yell.
“And you can’t control my movements, and this is a workplace. HR!”
His laugh is dark, I feel it down my body as chills erupt—not of fear but excitement.
“Report all you want, but I know your thoughts. I know you really don’t want to report me, or leave this job, or your apartment, I know that you already feel me between your thighs, people like you…” He glares.
“…want one thing.”
I gulp.
“What’s that?
“To be hunted.”