Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
The next day, Daisy wore her usual clothes. Long skirt. Soft sweater. Her sensible flats that didn’t make a sound against the carpet. Being invisible once more felt like safety.
Except she was anything but.
As soon as she approached her desk, Daisy felt as if she were being watched. The sensation of someone’s attention made the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, but she wasn’t brave enough to look around.
Daisy’s tears were silent as she collapsed at her desk.
The screen of her monitor was a watery smear of blue light. Chest constricted, every ragged inhale was an insurmountable feat. With her head hanging low, the thick sheaf of her blonde hair shielded her face from those around her. Trying to make herself so small she could disappear.
“Daisy.”
Gasping, she spun her chair around too fast, wiping at her face with the heel of her hand. Heat bloomed in her cheeks as she found Mr. Blackwell standing right behind her.
“I’m sorry,” she stammered out, blue eyes widening. “I wasn’t—I mean—I just…”
Mr. Blackwell’s arms crossed over the wide breadth of his chest, chin canted as he looked down at her. His focus was intense, a physical thing that pressed against her.
“How long have you been crying?”
“J-just a minute.”
He held her gaze for a moment before turning on his heel and stalking his way back to his office. Over his shoulder, he called, “Come with me.”
Daisy crumpled in on herself as she got to her feet, shuffling along behind Mr. Blackwell’s long strides. He had her enter before him, the office door shutting after with a quiet click.
He gave no invitation to sit, didn’t tell her to stand. Aiming for his desk, he leaned back against it, ankles crossed as his palms curled over the edge. His pale blue gaze remained centered on her.
Fidgeting under his scrutiny, Daisy ducked her head as she wrung her hands.
Unable to meet his gaze, she blinked back the tears already welling in her eyes once more.
She was going to lose her job and then she’d have nowhere to go and— “I don’t want you crying in hallways,” he said. “I want you where I can see you.”
Breath freezing in her lungs, Daisy peeked up at Mr. Blackwell through the clumped fringe of her lashes.
“If something overwhelms you,” he continued, voice even, “you come to me. You don’t decide on your own how to handle it.”
Her heart stuttered to a halt, staying silent and still for a long, breathless moment before it lurched into motion once more. “I-I don’t want t-to bother you.”
Though Daisy said the words, the idea of being around him when everything was just too difficult for her made something within her ease.
A quiet sound escaped him, something dark flickering in his bright blue gaze. The corner of his lips twitched, and Daisy would have sworn it was an almost smile though she’d never seen anything less than a wolfish grin from Mr. Blackwell during his meetings.
“That’s not your decision, kitten.”
Without thought, her head began nodding slowly. “Yes, sir.”
“Get me a coffee.” Mr. Blackwell dismissed her, striding around his desk to sit in his chair. Focus turned to his tablet, he scrolled through something.
Hurrying from the office, Daisy went to the kitchen to make his coffee just the way he liked it. It’d been an easy thing to remember in those first few days when she’d been hired. Double shot of espresso, as hot as she could make it.
Returning to his office with his cup, he was on a call as she tiptoed her way inside.
The frown marring the hard lines of his face seemed to melt away as he pointed at his desk where she should put his coffee.
It wasn’t a smile by any stretch. He was too intense for such a soft emotion.
Still, something in her chest pulsed with heat as she offered him a shy smile after depositing his cup.
Rushing back to her desk, Daisy dared to draw in a full breath. Things had been… strange with Mr. Blackwell, but he really was being so kind to her despite all her failings lately.
When she woke her computer, a line formed between her brows.
Her calendar was… different. Things were taken off or rearranged, but it wasn’t so obvious as to be clear all at once.
The block she usually put aside for herself to answer emails and messages had been pushed back by an entire hour, with new instructions to set up meeting room B.
It was even stranger that there was no mention of its purpose or attendees.
By the time she returned to her desk after setting out water glasses and pitchers, her phone was ringing. Rushing to answer it, Daisy fumbled the receiver before jamming it to her ear with a wince as her short nails stabbed into her temple.
“Kitten, come back.”
“Yes, sir.”
Daisy wrangled together her tablet, having to search for the pen. Though she hurried, it took her precious seconds before she was heading back to Mr. Blackwell’s office. On edge now, she scurried her way in as soon as he called for her to enter.
Drawing up short as she found Mr. Blackwell leaning against the front of his desk, the cuffs of his shirt rolled up to reveal the corded muscle of his forearms, Daisy drew in a shuddering breath.
“Sit.” He gave a faint nod to the chairs before him.
Feeling like a dysfunctional bobblehead, she settled into the chair in front of him with her tablet at the ready to take notes.
“You’re wearing the blue sweater today.”
Movements stuttering to a halt, she peered up at Mr. Blackwell for an all too brief second before casting her baby blues back down to the carpet between them.
He’d never once commented on what she wore. Never seemed to notice any of it. Not until yesterday that was, but she hadn’t worn anything so daring today.
“I like it,” she whispered.
Mr. Blackwell made a low sound in his throat as he suddenly pushed off from the desk, closing the short distance between them. His fingers trailed over her shoulder and down her arm, calloused pads rasping over the soft material.
“Noted, princess.”
The barely there touch was removed as he sat back against his desk once more, the startling blue of his gaze scrolling over her. Daisy felt his scrutiny as a wave of heat pressing against her skin, making it prickle with something that wasn’t quite unease.
“You may go.”
Brows drifting down, Daisy got to her feet. Inching her way past Mr. Blackwell, she couldn’t help but breathe in his expensive cologne. A riot of butterflies unleashed themselves in her tummy, fluttering about as she half ran out of the door.
The day continued with its strangeness.
Mr. Blackwell called her in during lunch, telling Daisy he needed her. Finding no reason to go against him, and afraid to even try to, Daisy sat at the small table near the windows in his office with her sandwich and little bag of baby carrots.
He didn’t say a word to her the entire time.
When she returned from the bathroom, it was to find her desk a whole six feet closer to Mr. Blackwell’s office. There’d been no memo, no notice. The maintenance guy just said he’d done it at Mr. Blackwell’s request. When pressed, her boss said he needed her closer for efficiency.
Now Daisy could hear every time he stood and paced. Even the rigid laughter he used during his calls.
It wasn’t until later that she noticed the small black heater tucked under the desk.
The office was always cold, Daisy having to wear her sweaters even in the height of summer.
She’d never once complained, but it seemed someone had noticed.
A strange tightness grabbed hold of her throat, a swell of emotion choking her.
Daisy knew who had placed it there, even without him saying so.
He hadn’t said anything. Mr. Blackwell had just fixed it.
At three-thirty, Daisy cried again. She’d gotten mixed up and had done a report before she’d had all of the relevant information, and after a coworker dumped a huge stack of files on her desk, she now had to go through it all and start over.
Not a minute later, her phone rang.
Mr. Blackwell was calling her in again.
Wiping away all traces of her misery, Daisy inched her way into his office.
“You’ve been crying again.”
“Just a little.”
“What did I tell you, baby girl?”
“Oh… um…” Daisy gnawed at her lower lip, keeping her eyes averted to stare hard at the floor before her feet.
“You’re to come to me, aren’t you?”
A slow nod was all the response she was capable of. He had said that, and she hadn’t listened.
“Come here.”
Shuffling forward, she came to a stop before his desk.
“Closer.”
Daisy’s brows twitched in a frown, but she made her way around the edge of the desk.
Closer still when he made an impatient gesture with his fingers.
Before Daisy could so much as squeak a protest, she found herself sitting on the hard shelf of Mr. Blackwell’s thighs.
Arm curled around her back to support her, his other hand traced the damp paths her tears had taken.
“There now. That’s better, isn’t it,” Mr. Blackwell said in a voice gone rough around the edges.
Yet his words soothed something inside of Daisy, cracking it open to let it all out.
Tears began trickling their way free, smeared against her cheeks as she tried to wipe them away.
Heat suffused her cheeks, but Mr. Blackwell didn’t let her hide.
He curled one finger beneath her chin, tipping Daisy’s head up to meet his gaze.
“You don’t need to hide from me.”
“I don’t want to be difficult.”
“You aren’t.”
Daisy took in a trembling breath as panic surged. She was being too much, too troublesome. Why couldn’t she just be like everyone else?
“I’m so sorry, Daddy—oh! I mean—”
Everything went still, frozen in that moment. Even Daisy didn’t dare to breathe. Mr. Blackwell’s shoulders tensed for a breath of a moment before they relaxed once more. One corner of his lips curled up, an almost smile as his thumb traced along her cheek.
“Oh, baby girl,” he murmured, chortling softly under his breath. “You have no idea.”
By the time Daisy left Mr. Blackwell’s office, she was in a daze.
No longer concerned with the work ahead of her, she was overwhelmed with thoughts of the man.
The way his warmth had seeped into her very bones, his soft touch.
The way he’d cradled her against his chest as she sniffled and teared up.
There’d been no reprimand from him. No aggressive talk about how weak she was. Mr. Blackwell had simply held her close and allowed her the space to let it all out. He didn’t even make fun of her when she tripped on her way out of his office.
When she made it home that night, she was still riding that high. Feeling effervescent and warm throughout, she went through her normal nocturnal routine, replaying his praise over and over, the roughness of his voice echoing in her ears. Daisy heated up leftovers, tuning into a reality TV show.
She was interrupted with a knock at her door before she could really get into any of it.
Peering through the peephole, she couldn’t understand what it was she was seeing, so she opened the door a crack. “May I help you?”
“Miss Daisy Bloom,” the man in sleek black asked with a single brow arched as he took in Daisy in her oversized sweats.
“Y-Yes…?”
“Delivery.”
Before she could even think to ask a question, the man shoved open the door, sending Daisy tumbling backwards. Tripping over her own feet, she barely caught herself on her old sofa before hitting the cracked linoleum.
The man wasn’t alone. There were three others, and each of them were rolling in racks packed full of garment bags. The slick material shushed together as they trundled across the floor to the open space between living room and kitchen.
“Come try these on,” the first man said, having unzipped several of the bags. He held up a pale blue dress, waggling it on the end of his fingers for Daisy to take.
“I, uh… What is…?”
“We’re under strict instructions for you to try anything you want to keep on. These five are a good start,” the man said, thrusting the blue dress into Daisy’s arms when she didn’t take it from him. “Now go try this on while we unpack everything else.”
“But… who?”
“A Mr. King sent them. Now hurry up!”