Skye #2
"So sorry," I proclaim, giving him my most apologetic face.
I point to the phone and make a face. "My boss is being—" I start, but the man sneers, cusses me under his breath, and continues walking.
"How rude," I mumble as I move over to the side of the street and stand outside a closed flower shop.
I peer through the windows wistfully. I haven't received flowers since my dad bought me roses on my sixteenth birthday.
How have I never received flowers? "Why would I be trying to make you jealous, Kingston?
" I ask because I really have nothing else to say.
"I don't know." He pauses. "Who were you saying sorry to, by the way?"
"Not you. There must be a reason why you think I'd be trying to make you jealous. Please explain."
"Maybe because Lila and Max got together, and you're now thinking that you might be lucky number two in the office?"
"Lucky number two? What does that mean?" Is there a company lottery system I didn't know about?
"Lucky lady number two. You know, like, I'm the bachelor behind door number two."
"What?" My laughter is instantaneous and loud. I laugh heartily for what feels like ten minutes. I laugh so hard that I start snorting, and my body shakes. I cannot believe what he just said. He thinks he's some prize behind door number two. What an ego!
I'll give it to Kingston, he's very attractive. And when I say very attractive, I'm understating.
Severely understating.
Kingston Chase is knock-you-off-your-feet sexy.
Like, he could blink at you, and your panties would fall to the ground.
And dissolve into a puddle.
He's the sort of tall that makes you have to peer up at him like he's some sort of Greek god.
He has dark hair that looks black indoors and brown in the sun.
Hair that is silkier than should be legal.
He has big, beautiful blue eyes. And I'm not even a girl that is into blue eyes.
In fact, I've hated men with blue eyes ever since Sam Richards, a guy I went on a date with in tenth grade, told me to suck him off for his birthday while we listened to Frank Sinatra in his Chevy pickup truck while referring to himself as "Sexy Blue Eyes.
" I didn't suck him off, and I didn't even think about dating a blue-eyed guy again.
Not that I have any intention of dating Kingston.
He's my boss.
Just because he has a chiseled face and the sort of body that bodybuilders would be jealous of means nothing.
I don't want him. He has an attitude that goes on for days. He's the bossiest man I've ever met in my life. And even though he is my boss, I still find it irritating. To be quite frank, I'm not into overly handsome blue-eyed men who think they can boss you around all day and night.
"Are you laughing or crying?" he demands. "Are you upset because I'm not jealous?"
My jaw drops even lower. Is he for real? "You have got an ego the size of the Hoover Dam on you, don't you, Kingston Chase?"
"I don't have an ego. I'm just being matter-of-fact. It has crossed my mind that you might think that there's a possibility that you and I may end up together."
"Why on earth would I think that?" I'm being loud now.
"Like I said, you started on the same day as Lila. Now she and Max are together and looking at brownstones to buy, and she barely works."
"That's because she no longer works there full-time."
He clears his throat. "I just wanted to be clear that all we have is a work relationship, Skye."
"Did I say I thought we had more?"
"Just in case you thought that I was interested in going down the same road as Max, I wanted to make it clear that I'm not available."
"Okay." I don't know if I should be offended or not. This conversation is awkward and stupid. I want nothing to do with Kingston Chase. Pompous asshole that he is.
"Is that all you have to say?" He sounds surprised.
"I don't really know what else you expect me to say," I mutter, my anger starting to build. "I don't care if you're available or not. I don't want you. If you were the last man on earth, I still wouldn't want you. You're not my cup of tea. You're more like kombucha… all sour and weird."
"I'm what?" He coughs, and I smile to myself.
"Kombucha, that fermented drink. Kingston, I hate to break it to you, but you're just not my type.
" That's a bit of a lie, but like I said before, little white lies don't count.
"So, trust me when I say, if I was seeking a bachelor and chose door number two and saw you standing there, I'd run away so quickly." I snort as I make a runner’s stance. "Shoot, I'd be running so fast that I might even win a medal at the Olympics.” I bounce back and forth on my heels as if I’m ready for the starter’s gun. I really do know how to amuse myself.
"Really, Skye?" He doesn't sound so full of himself now. Take that, Mr. Hotshot Attorney. Not feeling so cocky now, are you? I don’t know why that makes me feel so satisfied.
"Really, Kingston Not-My-Type Chase. And if you don't mind, I really have to go now."
"Where are you going?" he asks, and his tone doesn't sound so smug now.
"Like I told you before, it's none of your business.
You're my boss, and as far as I'm concerned, our interactions end at five o’clock on Friday.
They won't start again until Monday at nine a.m. So, ciao, bella.
" I hang up on him quickly before he can respond, and then, because I don't want to be interrupted by any more phone calls, I power my phone off.
"Is he out of his ever-loving mind?" I mumble as I run down the street.
I'm so late that the White Rabbit would be giving me side-eye.
"Why on earth would that ass think I want him?
" The question makes my head thud. Had I given him some sort of signal that would make him believe I was interested?
I think back to our interactions over the last couple of weeks.
Nothing I've said or done should have led him to believe that I give two shits about him.
I mean, yeah, I think he's hot, but most women in the world would think he's hot. I think George Clooney's hot. I think Brad Pitt's hot. I think Bradley Cooper's hot. I think Boris Kodjoe's hot. Shit, I could most probably name ten million men that I think are hot. It doesn't mean I want them.
Had he seen me checking out his arms that one day he came to the office in his gym clothes? Surely not.
I swallow hard as bile rises up my throat in embarrassment. Had he seen me checking out his shorts?
I reach the corner right before the entrance to the restaurant and I know I should go directly inside. Fabricio is going to be pissed at me. I'd have to grovel to keep my job. But instead of hurrying into the restaurant, I power the phone back on.
Because fury has hit me.
Embarrassment has made me angry.
Once the phone powers on, I call Kingston and wait impatiently for him to answer the phone.
"This is Kingston Chase. How may I help you?" he says in a clipped tone as he answers the phone.
"It's Skye," I snap. "Which you knew."
"Hello, Skye. How may I help you?" he says politely, as if we hadn't just had an infuriating conversation five minutes ago.
"I just processed what you said to me," I huff out. "And I'm pissed."
"It took you that long to process what I said?" he asks. "No wonder you're not getting through those files very quickly." He chuckles like he thinks he's some hotshot lawyer, and that makes me even angrier.
"You're just a jackass, a pompous prick, a wannabe and I think that—"
"May I ask a clarifying question?" he asks matter-of-factly, cutting me off. Is he about to fire me for being insubordinate?
"What do you want to know?"
"Well, you just said that I am a wannabe, correct? But I'd like to inquire and find out what sort of wannabe am I?" he asks.
I stand on the sidewalk, gripping the phone. "What?"
"You said I'm a wannabe and I want to know, I'm a wannabe what? A wannabe plumber? A wannabe electrician? A wannabe judge? A wannabe ballet dancer?"
"Oh, you infuriate me. You are driving me crazy, Kingston Chase."
"Doesn't sound so bad to me."
"You are so annoying. I was just calling you to tell you that—"
"That I'm annoying?" he interrupts again, and I can hear the humor in his tone. "I see."
"No, I'm calling you to let you know that I don't appreciate you calling me to tell me that we're never going to get together."
"Did I hurt your feelings?" he asks softly, like he's nervous he's going to break me. "I didn't mean to do that."
"No, you didn't hurt my feelings. I don't want you."
"You don't sound like someone that doesn't want me."
"What are you talking about? How does someone sound that doesn't want you?"
"They sound like they don't care. You sound like you care a lot."
"I am angry with you," I shout. "And not because I care about you, but because I'm annoyed."
"Because I told you that we're never going to have the relationship that Lila and Max have?"
"I don't want the relationship that Lila and Max have. I am not even looking to settle down right now."
"Oh, in case I wasn't clear, I'm not looking for just a sex thing either," he says. "Don't get me wrong, I love sex, I'm good at sex, and I have many casual relationships, but I don't think it would really work out between you and me."
"I don't want to sleep with you. Oh, I'm so annoyed."
"Is that all you have to say, or are you going to hang up on me again?"
"You wanna know what, Kingston Chase?"
"What, Skye Redding?"