Chapter 20
Anais
When I arrive at work the next day, I’m more unnerved than I anticipated.
Last night left me vulnerable in a way I’m not used to, and the thought of stepping into the elevator gives me severe anxiety.
I stand frozen in the lobby, as people move around me, eyeing the metal doors like they personally offend me.
And in a way, I guess they do. The damn thing stalled between floors and forced me to reveal a side of myself I never wanted Evan to see.
Shifting uncomfortably, I check my watch.
I’m running out of time, and the last thing I need is to be late.
I don’t want to give Evan another excuse to disapprove of me.
And I really don’t want…my panic spikes as I watch the doors close, trapping my co-workers inside and concealing them from me.
I try to calm myself down from the growing anxiety, whispering reassuring words in my mind, but they don’t help.
My gaze drifts over to the doors leading to the stairwell.
For a brief moment I consider climbing the thirty-eight flights of stairs. But in these heels? Not a chance.
“Anais?” A masculine voice cuts through my fog, bringing me back to the now. My head snaps up and I find Eli frowning down at me. His eyes dart between mine. “Is everything okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I blink, then force a smile, my voice breezy when I speak. “Oh, hey Eli. I’m fine. How are you?”
He slips his hands into his pockets, staring at me skeptically.
Clearly, I’m not doing a very good job of hiding my fear.
“I’m good,” he says slowly. “I was just wondering why you’ve been standing in the lobby for ten minutes, glaring at the elevator like it killed your puppy. ” He raises a brow in silent question.
Heat blooms in my cheeks. I shift on my feet, chuckling nervously, as I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. “No reason. Just mentally preparing for the day ahead.” It’s a lie, but I’m not about to tell him the truth, admit that I’m scared of the elevator.
“And you thought this would be a good place to do that? In the middle of a packed lobby?” he cocks his head, his gaze intent on me.
“Apparently, I did.” I snip, annoyed at his interrogation. What does it have to do with Eli anyway? “I–”
I’m cut off by a rumbling male voice. Butterflies take flight in my stomach. And when his long fingers wrap around my elbow, my breath hitches. “Shouldn’t you be in your office, working on figures, Elijah?”
Eli’s eyes drop to where Evan holds me. His gaze narrows slightly. “I was just checking Anais was okay, Mr. Maxwell.”
“She’s fine. Now leave.” Evan growls, his voice lethal.
Eli swallows. Then with one last look in my direction, he turns and walks toward the elevator.
I glance up at Evan, my heart flipping at the look he’s giving me. He scans my face, then with a sigh, he tugs me toward the couches and out of the way of all the people rushing around the busy lobby.
“What’re you doing?” I hiss, yanking my arm out of his grip.
Evan runs a hand through his dark hair, visibly exasperated. My eyes drop to his lips on their own accord, my body warming when I recall how they felt pressed against mine.
“You’re scared.” He states simply and my gaze snaps to his.
I’m recoiling, because he is right on the mark. I am scared, but I don’t want Evan to know that. I straighten my spine, my eyes narrowing. “I’m not scared,” I say, indignant. “I was just thinking about my workload, and how many files I’d have to photoco–”
“Bullshit, Anais.” He cuts me off. “You’re scared and that’s nothing to be embarrassed about.
” Easy for him to say. Big bad Evan Maxwell, the American God whom people fawn all over, isn’t scared of anything.
He would never understand how uncomfortable I am knowing he, of all people, is now aware of my weakness.
“Now, we’re getting in that elevator, together. And you’re going to be fine. Got it?”
His tone leaves no room for argument. I swallow down my anxiety, and nod slowly. “Okay,” I whisper.
One side of his mouth tugs up into a smile, and if getting in that damn elevator and facing my fear earns that smile, then I’ll do it without hesitation. “Good girl.” Those two words send a pulse of heat straight between my thighs. He jerks his head toward the elevator bank. “Come on, let’s go.”
He strides across the lobby, confident and in control like the god he is, while I follow obediently behind him.
A small crowd waits as the elevator arrives.
When the doors slide open, I’m shocked when, without hesitation, Evan laces his fingers with mine and drags me inside.
He turns, staring down at the others still waiting, his voice cold when he orders. “Wait for the next one.”
My face burns as the doors close, concealing their stunned expressions.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I mumble, petulantly.
“Yeah, I did.” He clips out, pressing the button to our floor.
I glance at him, but he’s paying no attention to me, he’s staring down at his phone.
I look away, trying to concentrate on my breathing as we ascend.
Evan has given me no reason to feel humiliated, but I still feel that way.
It’s stupid, a person of my age being scared of such an inanimate object, but that doesn’t stop the fear.
No matter how much I tell myself differently.
“You good?” Evans deep rumble snaps me out of my reverie.
I glance up at him, my heart fluttering in my chest when I see the concern on his face. I shouldn’t read into it, but this is Evan, and I am me. It’s expected at this point.
“I’m good,” I whisper.
He nods, then looks away, focusing back on whatever is so interesting on his phone.
The elevator stops, and my pulse kicks up.
My eyes dart to the panel, and when I see we’ve reached the thirty-eighth floor, I exhale in relief.
When the doors open, I hurry out, scurrying down the hall to my desk where Janice is already settled for the day.
I greet her with a smile, “Morning, Janice,”
“Morning, honey,” she returns, smiling.
I pull out my chair, ready to sit and get started on today’s workload when Evan’s voice stops me. “I’ll see you in my office, Anais.”
Squeezing my eyes closed, I take a couple minutes, mentally preparing myself to enter the lion’s den. Of course, he’d want to see me. Summoning all the strength I can, I open my eyes and follow him inside.
“Shut the door,” he commands, without looking at me.
I do as he demands, then move further into his space, lowering down into one of his visitor chairs.
“If this is about this morning…” I start warily.
Evan finally meets my eyes. “It’s not,” he states simply, leaning back in his chair.
“Last night, then?” I hedge, enjoying the way his nostrils flare at the mention of last night. There is no doubt in my mind that, like me, he’s remembering the kiss.
“It’s not,” he grates out, his jaw ticking.
I nod, cross my legs and wait for him to start talking. Evan sighs, scrubbing a palm across his mouth. “The company is hosting an event tomorrow night to showcase our latest collection. My father would like you to join us.”
I blink. Whatever I was expecting him to say, it wasn’t that. “O-okay,” I stammer. “I’d love to join you.”
His jaw clenches, those icy blues turning to slits.
“You won’t be attending as my guest, Anais,” he snaps.
“Let’s make that clear. If it were up to me, you wouldn’t be going at all.
” I recoil, offended. Where’s the sweet, gentle, caring Evan from last night and this morning?
I want him back. “It’s not a social gathering for you,” he warns.
“You’ll be expected to manage displays. Work the room with a tablet, along with staff from our Fifth Avenue store, and register interest. That sort of thing. Understood?”
My smile is as fake as some of the women Evan has been with. “Of course, boss.”
His nostrils flare. “It’s black tie, so wear something appropriate. Not that it’ll be a problem for you, I know you have plenty of dresses.”
I nod my acquiescence, my eyes tracing over his meticulously organized desk. My smirk is unstoppable, as I imagine his carefully constructed control slipping if a pen were out of place. “Is that all?”
“Yes.” His jaw tics.
I rise from my seat, my smile wide. “Very well.”
He tracks my every movement, watching me intently as I stand to my full height.
With my gaze on his, and because I’m feeling petty, I place my palms on his desk, look him directly in the eye… and knock his pen holder over, creating a mess.
The rest of the day passes uneventfully and without any interference or orders being barked at me by Evan.
When five thirty hits, I grab my things, and make a break for it, eager for my dinner with Lana. We settle on a Chinese restaurant in Hell’s Kitchen. Because Lana is taking summer classes, and not working an internship, she’s already waiting for me when I arrive.
Striding down the street, I pause when I feel the odd sensation of being watched.
Glancing over my shoulder, I scan the area, not finding anything out of the ordinary, but that doesn’t stop the shiver running down my spine.
Shaking my head, I blow off the weird feeling, then make my way inside the restaurant to my friend.
From the moment we are seated at our table, she wants to know every detail.
I tell her everything, from the interactions at the Maxwells’ lunch on Sunday, to what happened last night, to this morning’s elevator drama, and most recently, my act of rebellion in his office.
She laughs at that, but her expression quickly sobers.
I know where her thoughts have gone.
Lana runs a finger around the rim of her glass, before slowly lifting her gaze to meet mine. My stomach drops when I see the pain in her eyes. I know she feels guilty about what happened that night, but she has no reason to. I don’t blame her. Never did. Never will.
“I hate that you still get anxiety. That night…” she trails off, before sucking in a breath. “It should’ve never happened. If I’d just left with you, like I should have, it wouldn’t have.”
I reach across the table, taking her hand, and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Nothing happened.” I smile, imploring her with my eyes. “And I don’t blame you. So stop blaming yourself.”
She glares, her nostrils flaring. “He hit you,” she snaps. “Black eye, nosebleed and scratched up from where he tried to subdue you. That’s not nothing.”
A ghost of a smile touches my lips, despite the heavy subject. “I love that you always have my back, Lana.” I tell her honestly. “But please forgive yourself. Stop blaming yourself.”
Lana exhales, her chest deflating as if she needed to hear those words as much as I needed to say them. She smiles softly. “Okay. I’ll try. Just like my beautiful, brave, best friend.” I chuckle, rolling my eyes. “So, what did Evan say? About the attack, I mean?”
I mull over her words, remembering his anger.
Not just at the attack but because I never reported it.
“He was mad. But I’m not sure if it was about the attack or the fact I didn’t report it or tell my family.
” I tell her and she frowns, so I rush to defend him.
“I mean, he stayed with me, kissed me, took me home. Rode the elevator up to my floor just to make sure I was okay. And this morning, when I was too petrified to get in.” I groan, my face dropping into my hands.
“Evan appeared, talked me down and made everyone else wait for the next ride. It was… kind of cute.” I lift my head, smiling, only for it to fall when I recall what came after.
“And then it was like midnight struck, and the spell was broken. But instead of Cinderella turning back into her rags, Evan turned into his usual asshole self.”
Lana laughs. “You wouldn’t want him any other way.”
I groan, “A little more affection would be appreciated, but honestly?” My lips curve into a grin. “You’re right. His asshole vibe is half the appeal.”