Chapter 8
Anais
The weekend flies by.
I spend it relaxing with Lana and my family, all of whom are eager to hear about my first week at Maxwell’s.
Truthfully there isn’t much to tell, just answering phones, filing paperwork and fetching Evan’s lunch.
It’s not exactly the glamorous work they expect.
I tell Lana all about my petty one-sided games with Evan, but I’d never share that with my parents or brother.
They don’t need to know I’ve resorted to childish antics just to see if I could get a rise out of the infuriatingly unbothered Evan Maxwell, especially since he’s not even reacting.
By Monday, I’m genuinely excited for the new week.
I’ve even convinced myself to behave… for now.
I need to remember, most people would kill for an internship at Maxwell Diamonds, and I need to take it seriously.
Christian gave me this opportunity, and I don’t want to let him down.
Plus, there’s a small part of me that can admit – begrudgingly, I might add – I’m bored.
Not once has Evan commented on the little croutons I keep sneaking into his turkey sandwich.
It’s no fun playing games when the other person won’t play back.
If I want him to take me seriously, see me as a mature woman, it’s probably time I start acting like one.
I stride into the lobby, glancing around at the bustling crowd with a smile as I head to the elevator. Just as I reach out to press the button, a large hand beats me to it. I glance up to find Eli grinning down at me.
“Anais,” he greets warmly, straightening up as his eyes search my face.
I smile wider. Between Eli and Janice, they’re the only people who actually talk to me here. Well except for Uncle Christian, but I don’t really see him all that much.
“How’re you doing, Eli?” I ask, stepping back to wait.
He exhales, running a hand through his chestnut hair. “I’m good. You have a nice weekend?”
I nod. “I did, thank you. You?”
A contented smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, it was nice. I drove up to Boston to visit my family.”
My eyes widen. “Isn’t that like a three-hour drive?”
He nods, flashing his white teeth. “Just over. Got there late Friday evening.”
I’m about to respond, when the elevator dings, and the doors slide open. Eli, the perfect gentleman, gestures for me to go first. Unbidden, my mind shifts to Evan. Is he a gentleman with women? I inwardly snort. There is nothing gentlemanly about Evan.
Eli steps in beside me, his eyes locked on mine, intense, and something else I can’t quite decipher.
“Must’ve been nice to get out of the city,” I murmur, feeling a rush of heat in my body.
“It was,” he agrees, shifting on his feet as he adjusts the strap of his messenger bag. He opens his mouth to say something else, but stops when a shadow falls over us.
I glance up, my breath hitching.
Evan.
He’s dressed in a navy suit that looks like it was specially made for him, crisp white shirt and custom Italian loafers. His masculine scent of sandalwood, vetiver and white musk cling to him. It’s enough to make me weak in the knees.
Why can’t he have a flaw? Something to turn women off, not draw them in.
I’m pretty sure men like Evan Maxwell were designed by the devil himself to test women.
His cold, indifferent, blue eyes meet mine.
“Elijah,” he greets my friend coolly, though his gaze never leaves my face.
Eli clears his throat beside me, but I don’t look.
I’m currently trapped in the asshole’s web.
“Just Eli. Good morning, Mr. Maxwell.”
Evan doesn’t acknowledge the correction, but I see the flicker of irritation seep into his expression. “Anais,” he drawls, a smirk curling his lips. “I thought all that hard work last week would’ve scared you off.”
My eyes narrow, and I stand tall, even though I’d still need six-inch heels just to reach his chin. I cock my head. “Now why would you ever think that, Evan? I’ll be here for the next seven weeks. Someone’s got to get your lunch, right?” My eyes widen in mock innocence.
His jaw tightens but he says nothing. Instead, he runs a hand down his tie and turns his attention to Eli.
“Conference room C. Ten o’ clock,” he says, voice cold. “We’ve got things to go over.”
Eli doesn’t miss a beat, replying smoothly, despite the thick tension. “Of course, Mr. Maxwell.”
Evan nods once then faces forward, effectively ending the conversation. The elevator feels like it’s crawling, so slow it’s like time stands still. The air grows thick, suffocating. Panic starts to rise in my chest.
I need to get out of here.
I close my eyes, fidgeting with my hands. Just breathe. It’s just an elevator. But since the incident, sometimes, like now, the fear creeps in. This is one of those times. Whether it’s the elevator or Evan stealing all the oxygen, I’m not sure.
I just know I need to get out. I need to–
Finally, the doors open. I rush out, sucking in much needed air.
Jesus Christ. What was that? I haven’t felt panic like that in months.
“See you around, Anais,” Eli calls behind me, drawing me from my fog. I throw him a wave over my shoulder and make my way to my desk.
Before I can take a seat, Evans voice stops me. “My office, Anais. Now.”
I freeze. Then blink away my anxiety, before glancing up. He stares at me. Watching. Waiting.
“What? Why?” I snap, arms crossed over my chest.
His jaw flexes. He doesn’t answer, just tilts his head toward his office, his way of telling me to get my ass in there. “Because I said so. Now hurry up, Brat. I don’t have all day.”
I roll my eyes at the nickname. Evan, my brother and all their friends have called me that forever. Though Evan has used it sporadically, it seems to be his favorite word since I started my internship.
I shoulder past him and saunter into his office, taking a seat on the comfortable Wingback chair in front of his desk. The door shuts with a click. The sound of his footsteps is the only noise. My heart rate kicks up. One beat. Two. Three. I swallow, focusing on his office.
It’s immaculate, modern with its black marble desk, sleek furniture and own bathroom. Not that I’d expect anything else. God forbid Evan shares a restroom.
He settles behind his desk, powering on his computer, flipping through some paperwork on his desk.
My eyes narrow. The asshole is deliberately making me wait.
Not happening.
“What did you want to discuss?” I ask sweetly, drawing his attention to me.
That earns me a glare I’ve grown familiar with.
He stares at me for a long beat, his expression a little unnerving. Yet, there’s a stir of something else fluttering low in my belly, settling between my thighs.
He leans back in his chair, his face indifferent. He runs a finger across his full bottom lip, and in that moment a spark of jealousy ignites in my veins. I want to be that finger, goddamn it.
“Did my father inform you of Maxwell’s internal policies?” he asks coolly, snapping me from my errant thoughts.
I blink, clearing my throat. “What policies?”
He smirks, but it’s not friendly. It’s damn right predatory. “The no fraternization policy.”
I frown. What the hell is he going on about now? “I don’t understand.”
He lets out a low laugh. “Of course you don’t. You’ve never taken anything seriously, Anais. Why start now?”
There he goes again, belittling and criticizing me.
My stomach twists.
Does he really think so little of me?
My fists ball, and I scowl at him. “You don’t know me.” I spit. “I am taking this job very seriously. Fuck you very much.”
I mentally go over the last week. This isn’t about his lunch. It’s… fraternization. Who the hell am I fraternizing with? I don’t talk to anyone apart from Janice and Eli…
Then it hits me.
Eli.
Evan sees the realization dawn, and smirks.
“Now she’s getting it,” he says smugly. “Get too friendly with the staff; you’ll be out. And trust me, you’ll be gone before Eli is. He’s more useful.”
I shoot out of my seat, hands slamming on his desk. I should walk away. He wants a reaction. But I can’t stop myself. “Nothing is going on with Eli. We’re just…” I trail off trying to think of the right word. “Eli is a friend.”
Evan lets out a sardonic laugh. My teeth clench. “Don’t be so na?ve. He wants you,” he pauses, his voice dipping colder. “And I’m just letting you know if anything happens, you’ll be out of here.”
Jesus Christ, is it possible to want to wring someone’s neck and kiss them simultaneously?
He smirks.
Everything in me screams to shout at him.
Instead, I straighten. Smile.
“Of course, Mr. Maxwell, sir. Whatever you say.” His brows lift, his smirk faltering. “Now if that’s all, I’ve got things to do.”
His eyes narrow, but he gives a curt nod. I flash him another sugary sweet smile, before turning on my heel and strutting out with a little extra sway in my step.
Fuck. Him.