Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
J ames
I was late for work.
I was never late for work. Not once.
But everything took longer now. Working out took longer. Showering took longer. Driving took longer. All because I was slowed down with thoughts of Cecilia, like a fucking disease taking over me, and there wasn’t shit I could do about it.
All I could think about while I worked out this morning was what could’ve happened if I hadn’t let go of her yesterday. I would have gone further if her brother hadn’t called and broken the trance. I craved to feel more of her bare skin under my fingertips. Wanted to hear the sound of her breath when she felt it.
It was madly distracting, and I couldn’t take it anymore. She was nothing but a nuisance to me, and I’d do well not to forget that. I found it funny that she always seemed to think I was playing her because surely it was I who was being played. She was manipulative in the way that she relaxed around me or talked to me as if she wasn’t trying to destroy my very life. In the quiet, calm moments, she treats me as if I’m just a person. I hated it because she was the only one ever to treat me that way, and yet, she was the one who made it perfectly clear she was not to be trusted.
I had to remind myself that no matter how she made me feel at times, she had a darkness inside of her, one that I recognized. She didn’t care about me. She was on a quest for destruction and had my name forged in the path. Darkness was an ugly thing. I would know.
I walk out of the elevator to my office floor, and all eyes are on me like I am some kind of phenomenon. It felt like I was today. I was never late, and everyone here knew that. I’m sure everyone was wracking their brains on the reason for this, and it pisses me off even more, but not as much as when I see the door to my office cracked open, which tells me Cecilia is already there waiting for me.
She was inside my office alone, one place she didn’t need to be by herself since she was also a little snoop on top of other things.
I pick up speed, striding straight into my office, expecting to catch her in the act again. But instead of being behind my desk with drawers open, caught red-handed, she is bent over the front of it, her hands placed on each corner as she scours the top of it.
My jaw tightens in unwanted restraint. I wanted to tear into the room and scream at her for snooping around again. But my body couldn’t move. It was hypnotized by hers bent over the desk, her round ass facing me, clad in a tight pencil skirt. Her long legs were firm and accentuated. Her long hair fell over her shoulder, all over my desk.
My fists tighten as the urge to pin her chest to my desk races through me like hot lightning. To fist her hair in my hand and make her tell me every bad thing she wants to do to me while I spank her for it. While I make her feel so good for it.
I swallow away the dryness in my throat and clear it loudly, grabbing her attention. When I think she will freeze or whip around and spew excuses my way, she does neither. She looked over her shoulder quickly, her eyes wide and filled with a kind of emotion I’d never seen on her before. It looked unpleasant.
“Thank god you’re here,” she rattles off. “What took you so long? Do you have anything sharp on your stupid desk? I need tweezers or...or a letter opener. Hell, even a pocket knife.”
My face wrinkles in confusion, and I walk toward her to see what the fuss is about. She was talking way too fast. “Are you planning on finally killing me, babe?”
She makes a frustrated noise and leans up now, turning her wide eyes to me, which freezes me at the sight of them with what looks like unshed tears. Then, she holds her hand up directly in front of my face, lifting her index finger. I look down at it, instantly finding it beat red and bloody under her fingernail.
“I know I’m probably being a giant crybaby right now, but I got a splinter stuck under my fingernail, and it is killing me. The pain is shooting down my arm, and I can’t get it out. Every little move makes it hurt worse.”
I gently take hold of her hand, inspecting it closer. As she claims, I spot a long, thick wood splinter lodged under her nail, deep enough to send a slight shiver through my body. Sure, they didn’t hurt badly, but splinters are the kind of pain that is incredibly annoying and seems to remind you that they are there in anything you do. The pain really does become frustrating after a while, and not to mention, they can cause some pretty serious infections.
“How did you manage to do this?”
She grumbles in pain as I touch the tip of my finger to the top of the splinter. “The wooden table in the break room is splintering in the corners. I stopped in there to grab some coffee before heading here, and all I did was lean my hand onto the corner of the table as I was talking to Clarence and?—”
“Who’s Clarence?” I cut her off, my eyes snapping to meet hers.
She rolls her eyes. “He works in maintenance. How do you not know that?”
“I don’t oversee every person hired. Just you.”
“Can we focus on the splinter, please?” I nod. She rolls her eyes again. “As I was saying, I simply rested my hand against the table, and then it happened. Wood. Lodged into my finger. Under my nail. In turn, ruining my mood for the rest of the day unless I get this thing out.”
Her voice is whiney, and even though she’s clearly in discomfort, I find myself enjoying the tone of it and her utter helplessness. It was a nice change of pace and exactly the kind of boost I needed today.
“Are you saying you’d like my help?” I smirk.
She purses her lips angrily, her eyes narrowing into vengeful slits. “Can you?”
“I think I can.”
“Then do it.”
I squeeze her hand slightly tighter. “What’s the magic word babe?”
Her face barely winces, but I notice the slight twitch in her expression. She remains defiant, keeping her gaze locked with mine. “Please, James.”
I nearly falter at the sound of her adding my name to her plea. I grind my teeth together, forcing the thoughts brewing in my head to regenerate into contempt for her. I dropped my hand to her wrist and tugged her to follow me outside my office and down the hall to the bathroom.
Her feet stumble as she follows behind me, and once again, all eyes are on me as I show her the way. “Where are we going?” she murmurs.
“Bathroom. There are first aid kits in there.”
When we walk into the bathroom, she instantly goes past me and hops up onto the counter, sitting on its edge. I look down at her thighs pressed to the marble counter and tear them away, turning behind me to lock the door so that we aren’t interrupted.
I went to the first aid box bolted to the wall at the other end of the bathroom and opened it, looking around inside. Thankfully, splinter removers were actually available, so I grabbed one of the small paper packets, alcohol wipes, antibiotic ointment, gauze, and a band-aid.
“Wow, that’s quite the stock there,” she remarks as I set the supplies on the counter beside her. “I would have done this all myself if I had known it was here.”
“It’s fine,” I tell her, opening the alcohol wipe. I retake her hand and place the wipe around the tip of her finger, attempting to clean what I can around the splinter.
She winces and tries to rip her hand away, but I hold tighter onto it, continuing to clean her finger. “Don’t move.”
“You could have warned me you were going to do that. It burns.”
“It hurts worse when you’re warned. It's better when you aren’t expecting it.”
“I’ll remember that when I suddenly get run over by a car.”
“You’re extremely dramatic.” I open the splinter remover packet and pull out the sharp metal pick.
Her eyes widen and then meet mine. “That looks like it’s going to hurt.”
“It will.”
She tears her hand away again. “I don’t want to do it.”
“Quit being a baby, Cecilia. If you leave it in there, you'll get an infection, which will hurt worse.”
She takes a hard breath and holds her hand back toward me. Her fingers are slightly shaking, and I observe the way her face is frozen in the expectation of pain. Lord help me, I take pity on her.
I use my left hand to take hers and entangle our fingers together as I close my hand around hers. She looks at me in shock now, and I hate the way it’s surprising to her for me to be nice, but I try to ignore it.
“Hold your finger up and squeeze my hand if the pain gets too bad.” She nods quietly, lifts her finger for me, and I lean into her. Our balled hands are the only separation between our chests now. I look closely at her finger and use my right hand to angle the pick under her nail.
She squeezes my hand hard when it makes contact, and a small whimper leaves her mouth. I stay focused, though, using the pick to dig out the splinter embedded deeply into her skin as gently as possible. Unfortunately, though, I had to dig the pick into her skin more than I’d liked to be able to get enough traction to push the splinter out. I finally get it to start wiggling, and I glance up at her momentarily, finding her face beat red but her eyes on me instead of her hand.
“What are you looking at?” I murmur, looking back down at her finger.
“You,” she answers. “You’re so focused. It’s easy to get lost in your determination.”
“And if I told you not to stare at me?”
“I’d tell you it’s distracting me from the pain and to quit being a baby about it.”
I push the splinter completely out of her finger, making her squeak in pain, and then a long exhale leaves her once she sees it’s out. “Takes one to know one,” I quip, grabbing a paper towel and wrapping it around her finger to wipe up the blood.
Our eyes stay connected longer than I’m comfortable with, but I can’t look away. She’s looking at me like I was her knight in shining armor when I was the kind of guy she needed saving from. I was thinking bad things, like the things I could do to her in the privacy of this bathroom, and she was looking up at me with such na?ve sweetness.
“Wash your hands,” I finally tell her, stepping back. She looks down and hops off of the counter, turning to wash her hands. I opened the antibiotic ointment and retook her hand when she dried it off.
“I can do this part,” she says, but I ignore her and rub the ointment on her finger with a small piece of gauze. I pick up the band-aid, tearing it open with my teeth, pulling it free, and gently wrapping it around her finger so that the wound isn’t exposed anymore.
“Keep an eye on it. Staph infection isn’t uncommon from bad splinters.”
“Why thank you, Dr. Kingston. This was all…nice.”
“Yes, well, despite what you think about me, Cecilia, I’m not entirely evil.”
Her eyes soften in a somewhat sad way, and I can’t stand the sight of it. “I don’t think you’re?—”
“We should get back out there, or people will get the wrong idea about us in here. I don’t need any bloody gossip around here.”
I open the door, waiting to exit after her. She stayed still for a moment, staring at me, and then she walked out without another word. I’m following a step behind her when she stops suddenly, her hand shooting out behind her and plastering against my chest. Next thing I know, I’m being forcibly shoved backward. She turns on her heels and pushes against my chest with both of her hands now, her eyes wide and crazy as she pushes me around a corner and into a break in the wall.
My back slams against the wall as she plasters herself to me, her chest colliding with mine. “What on earth are you doing?” I shout.
Her hand flies over my mouth, making my eyes shoot up in surprise as she attempts to silence me. “My brother,” she shrieks in a whisper. “He’s here.”
I bite down on one of her fingers, not hard but enough to make her yelp and pull her hand away. I set my hands on her hips and spin us so that she’s the one against the wall now. I lean backward, peaking my head around the corner, and see Tobias standing in the hall, speaking with my secretary.
“Damn it,” I grouse, digging into my pocket for my cell phone.
“What are you?—”
“Shh,” I bite out, placing my hand over her mouth to see how she likes it. She looks outraged as I do, and I can’t help but smile as I dial my secretary’s number.
When she answers, I waste no time. “Please let Tobias know I’m heading into a meeting and will be busy the next few hours. Under no circumstances are you to tell him anything else or mention my assistant. I want you to tell him to come back after hours.”
When I hung up the phone, I felt a minor sharp pain against my fingers, and I looked down, seeing that she had now bitten me, too. I remove my hand to reveal a wicked grin on her mouth, which makes my stomach turn with a violent heat.
I narrowed my eyes at her and leaned back out, seeing my secretary and Tobias still talking. I roll my eyes when I see him lean onto the counter now, getting closer to her as they talk.
“Your fucking brother,” I grumbled, leaning back in toward her.
“What is it?”
“He’s making an ass of himself and wasting my time in the process.”
She smacks my chest. “Don’t be rude.”
I catch her hand before she can drop it and hold it against my chest as I lean closer into her. She tried to back away but only met the wall as I closed in on her. “That’s a risky move, considering I have you at my mercy right now.”
“Don’t even try anything. We need to be quiet.”
“You’re right. Quiet isn’t the word I’d use to describe any of what I could make you do right now.”
She makes a face of disgust. “You’re sick.”
My blood boils with a delicious heat as I drop my gaze between us. “Is that why you’re turning pink and pressing your chest into me?”
She looks between us, seeing her body cling to mine unwillingly. She straightens and shoves me, making me stumble a step back too far. I nearly fall out of our little hiding spot, and she reaches out, tugging my shirt and pulling me back against her.
I crash into her, planting both of my hands on the wall above her head. Our bodies collide, clinging like magnets that tried to spring apart but couldn’t. Our faces are nearly touching, and when she looks up at me, I can only notice how close her lips are to mine. How easy it would be to cross that invisible line. Right here. Right now.
A slight tremble wracks through her body, and I feel it against mine, making my body come alive with a desperate frenzy I can no longer deny. The need to touch her, to drop my mouth and take hers so unbearably strong. She was close. Too close. I could hardly take it.
Her eyes danced over my face like her brain was trying to work through all the same emotions as I was. Her fingers curl tighter into my shirt, and I can’t help but lean just a little closer. She sucks in a breath, and I drop my hands from the wall, letting them land on her hips.
Before I could think to do anything else, muffled voices caught my attention. The closer it got, I realized it was Tobias walking right this way. I looked behind us, seeing the elevator just down the hall facing the corner we turned.
“Don’t move,” I murmur lowly when I face her again. I can almost feel the brush of her lips against mine as I speak, and the forbidden closeness that isn’t quite close enough sends an addicting thrill through me. “Don’t speak,” I add, just to feel it again.
She listens, not doing either as she continues to stare up at me, her eyes blue and wide with so many things I shouldn’t even try to decipher. Tobias’s voice grows louder as he walks past us and straight to the elevator, his phone pressed to his ear and his back to us now. He steps on, never looking back, and the elevator finally closes him inside.
I look back at Cecilia, waiting for her to push me off in a craze, but she doesn’t move. A violent burst of desperation sweeps through me, and I tighten my hands on her hips just before I release her.
“We have work to do,” I finally say, clearing my throat.
She seems to finally snap out of it, pushing herself off the wall and coldly shoulders past me. I keep a safe distance behind her this time as we return to my office. When we get inside, I waste no time giving her some other kind of task to do that will get her out of my vicinity for the time being.
I didn’t want to want her. I hated every reason she was brought into my life. I hated her determination to prove to herself that I was someone unworthy of her and her brother’s time.
I hated all of this, but mostly, I hated that for the first time in what felt like forever, I could actually feel hate or feel anything at all because everything was grey and lifeless until she stormed into my life and made everything turn on its axis.
I needed to be done with her. Wash my hands of her.
I didn’t want to feel anymore.
A knocking sounds at my office door, and I look up to see Tobias walking inside. It was close to nine at night, and everyone in the building was gone, besides us two.
I watched him closer, noticing he hadn’t said anything yet and moving slowly as if nervous. His face was hard, and he looked somewhat angered, and a bad feeling formed in the pit of my stomach. My first thought went to Cecilia. Was something wrong with her? Is she hurt?
“What is it?” I burst out before he could take a seat. He met my gaze, his eyes tired and full of something like remorse, which only made me feel worse.
“The ledgers gone,” he says. I never knew I could feel such relief and doom simultaneously, but apparently, this year has been all about firsts.
“What do you mean it’s gone?”
“I’ve only ever kept it inside my suit pocket and locked away in the glove box of my car. The last I remember, it was locked, but…it’s gone. I can’t find it anywhere.”
“Your car? You kept it locked in your car? Are you mad?” I shout. “Locked or not, that was a naive move on your part. Cars are easily broken into.”
“That’s just it; my car hasn’t been touched. There hasn’t been any sign of anyone breaking into it.”
“So, you misplaced it.”
He gives me a look of offense, his scowl deepening. “I don’t misplace things.”
I sigh, at a complete loss. That ledger kept track of all the sales I made outside of this business. It was a means to keep track of my money flow, and I had to work hard to keep it hidden and maintained. It could be my complete demise.
“I’m disappointed in you,” I find myself saying to him, although the words taste bitter, leaving my mouth. I never wanted to speak to him this way, but this wasn’t something to be taken lightly. My life was on the line, and I trusted him with it. He nods like he expected this kind of response. I could see he was disappointed with himself, and it made this situation feel even worse. “You better pray you find it. In the meantime, you know the protocol.”
“I’ve already canceled all upcoming private meetings and shipments going out. Everything is at a complete stop right now.”
I nod. “Good. When do you remember last having it?”
“The day of the launch party. I made sure I had it after leaving the airport earlier that morning.”
“Call any driving services you used and check the security camera from the party that night. I don’t want any stone left unturned.”
“I’m on it,” he says, rising from his chair and heading toward the door. I let him leave without another word. I didn’t have anything else to say to him. Frankly, I was pissed off. I expected more out of him, but maybe I overestimated his capability.
I was just so fucking tired. The anxiety of my missing ledger only added to my increased stress, exhausting me even more.
I look back to my computer, pulling up the internet browser and clicking on my most repeated search history—The map of directions to London, England, from Boston, Massachusetts. My eyes repeatedly scour the routes, burning them into the ingrained passages in my brain. I memorized it all for the millionth time it felt, letting the familiarity relax me as I got lost in it.