Chapter 15 - You Dont Have Any Right to Me
Ethan appeared beside my desk sometime after four.
"Beach party tonight."
I looked up from my screen.
"What?"
"Beach party. After work. You coming?"
"No."
"That was fast."
"I haven't done laundry."
He stared at me.
I stared back.
"And?"
"And I have nothing to wear."
"You own clothes."
"Technically. None that I currently want to be seen by other human beings in."
Ethan leaned against the edge of my desk.
"So wear whatever."
"No. I'm not going anywhere looking homeless."
He looked at me for a second.
Then shook his head.
"Angel, you could literally dress like you're homeless and nobody would notice."
I narrowed my eyes.
"That's incredibly insulting to my clothes."
"I'm serious. Nobody would be looking at your clothes. They'd be looking at you."
I blinked.
Ethan turned toward Maya.
"Am I wrong?"
Maya looked me over with absolutely unnecessary consideration.
"Absolutely not."
"Oh, good. There's two of you now."
"Angel, you're gorgeous." Maya gestured at me. "Like, genuinely unfairly gorgeous. I'm still not sure what you're doing here instead of modeling."
I laughed.
"I was never interested in modeling."
"Really?"
"Never."
Maya tilted her head.
"Did you always want to be an architect?"
"Always."
That answer came easily.
I looked around the studio-the drawings, models, screens, material samples, half-finished cups of coffee scattered across desks.
"And I'm happy being an architect."
Maya smiled.
Then her eyes drifted somewhere over my shoulder.
Her smile changed.
"Oh."
I knew that look.
"What?"
She leaned slightly toward Ethan.
"You know who you should ask that question?"
"Who?"
"Adrian."
I nearly laughed.
"About modeling?"
"Yes." Maya nodded solemnly. "All the models would go bankrupt if that man decided to try."
Ethan glanced toward Adrian's office.
I did too.
Unfortunately.
Adrian was standing behind the glass, talking on the phone, one hand in his pocket, expression serious as usual.
Dark hair.
Deep blue eyes.
Perfectly fitted shirt.
Annoyingly symmetrical existence.
Okay.
Maya had a point.
Still.
"Do you honestly think that man would ever want to be famous and publicly share his life?"
Maya considered Adrian for approximately half a second.
"Never."
"Exactly."
Ethan laughed.
"He'd last one interview."
"One question," I corrected.
Maya lowered her voice into an approximation of Adrian's.
"Mr. Vale, tell us something your fans don't know about you."
I put on my best Adrian expression.
"No."
Ethan laughed.
Maya pointed at me.
"Exactly."
I smiled and turned back to my computer.
Some people were simply not built for public attention.
Adrian Vale barely tolerated people knowing what he ate for lunch.
There was absolutely no universe in which that man voluntarily invited strangers into his life.
Approximately twenty minutes after our completely unnecessary discussion about Adrian Vale's potential modeling career, his office door opened.
I looked up.
And forgot the rest of the thought I'd been having.
Oh.
Black shirt.
That was-
Wow.
The shirt was fitted, as all his shirts unfortunately seemed to be, but black did something different to him.
Maybe it was the contrast against his skin.
Maybe it was the way it sharpened everything-the dark hair, the jaw, the shoulders.
Or maybe it was the royal-blue tie.
Because the blue pulled directly from his eyes and made them look deeper somehow.
Which they absolutely did not need help with.
He walked across the office with a folder in one hand, expression serious, completely unaware that his wardrobe had just become my personal problem.
I had always known Adrian was handsome.
That wasn't new.
But every once in a while, the man apparently woke up and chose violence.
Today was one of those days.
Beside me, Maya looked up.
Her eyebrows rose.
"Oh."
I turned toward her.
She looked at me.
Then back at Adrian.
"Okay."
"What?"
"I take back what I said earlier."
"About?"
"Modeling."
I frowned.
"You said he'd bankrupt all the models."
"I underestimated the situation."
I laughed.
"Maya."
"I'm serious. Put that man in an expensive-watch campaign and we're done."
Nicole glanced over as Adrian passed her desk.
"That's a really good look on him."
"Thank you," Maya said, as though Nicole had just validated an academic thesis.
I rolled my eyes.
Then looked at Adrian again.
Unfortunately.
He was speaking to Daniel now, one hand in his pocket, the other holding the folder.
Black shirt.
Blue tie.
Blue eyes.
I looked away.
Immediately.
Maya caught it.
Of course she did.
A slow smile appeared on her face.
"No."
"I didn't say anything."
"You're going to."
"I was actually going to ask whether you're still happy being an architect."
I narrowed my eyes.
"Why?"
"Because you could've been a model. He could've been a model. Think of the career opportunities you've both wasted."
"Oh my God."
"Very tragic."
"Go back to work."
She laughed and did.
I tried to do the same.
Tried being the important word.
Because apparently black was Adrian Vale's color.
Although, judging by the tie-
blue wasn't exactly struggling either.
Later, Maya looked toward Adrian's office, then at me.
"You know, Angel."
"No."
"I haven't said anything."
"Your face did."
Ethan looked between us.
"What?"
Maya smiled.
"Nothing. I was just wondering whether Angel has recovered from the black shirt yet."
"I was never affected by the black shirt."
"Right."
"It was a shirt."
"With a blue tie."
"Maya."
"A royal-blue tie," she corrected.
Ethan's smile changed slightly.
Barely.
If I hadn't been looking at him, I probably wouldn't have noticed.
"He did look good," he said.
I pointed at him.
"Thank you. See? Objective observation."
"That's not helping your case," Maya said.
"I don't have a case."
"Sure, Angel."
Ethan looked down at whatever was in his hands.
He was still smiling.
Just not quite the same way.
I noticed it.
But before I could wonder why, Maya asked Ethan what time his beach party started, and the conversation moved on.
So did I.
Or at least I thought I did.
By six, most of the office had emptied.
Ethan left for his beach party.
Maya stopped at my desk on her way out.
"Last chance."
"For what?"
"Beach. Attractive people. Alcohol. Bad decisions."
"I have work."
"Your loss."
"I'll survive."
She looked toward Adrian's office.
Then back at me.
"I'm sure you will."
I narrowed my eyes.
"Goodnight, Maya."
She grinned.
"Goodnight, Angel."
By seven, the office was almost completely silent.
I had to stay late again.
Not ridiculously late.
Just late enough that by seven-thirty, most of the lights around me were off and my eyes had started objecting to the existence of screens.
I saved my work, shut down my computer, and stood.
Adrian hadn't appeared once tonight.
Which was unusual.
Not that he always appeared when I worked late.
Just often enough that I had started expecting it.
I knew he was still here, though.
On my way toward the elevators, I passed his office.
The door was open.
His door was always open after office hours.
I'd noticed that.
Why?
Did he expect me to take a peek?
That was an incredibly self-centered thought.
I took a peek anyway.
Adrian was sitting behind his desk, head slightly lowered, phone in one hand.
The royal-blue tie was loosened now.
The top button of his black shirt undone.
And-
I stopped.
He was smiling.
Actually smiling.
Not the tiny almost-smile I occasionally managed to drag out of him.
Not the barely-there mouth twitch.
A real smile.
At his phone.
Well.
There went my intention to go home.
Because what in the world made Adrian Vale smile at his phone?
I walked into his office.
"Let me see."
His head came up.
The smile disappeared almost immediately.
"What?"
"What is making you smile?"
He locked his phone.
"None of your business."
"It is absolutely my business."
"How?"
"Because now I'm curious."
"That doesn't make it your business."
I walked around the side of his desk.
"Let me see."
"No."
"Adrian."
"Angelica."
I reached for the phone.
He moved it away.
"Hey."
"Go home."
"Give me the phone."
"No."
I reached again.
He stood.
Which was cheating.
Immediately.
"That's unfair."
"What is?"
"You're six feet tall."
"That isn't something I arranged specifically to inconvenience you."
"It feels personal right now."
He almost smiled.
Almost.
Which only made me more curious.
I reached for the phone again.
He lifted it over my head.
"Oh, you asshole."
"Go home, Ms. Stone."
I jumped.
Not my finest decision.
I got nowhere near the phone.
I did, however, lose my balance just enough to bump directly into him.
My hands landed against his chest.
His free hand caught my waist instinctively.
And everything stopped.
For maybe five seconds.
Maybe less.
It didn't feel like less.
Black shirt beneath my palms.
His hand at my waist.
His face suddenly much too close to mine.
The royal-blue tie between us.
His eyes locked onto mine.
Neither of us moved.
Then something changed in his face.
His hand left my waist so quickly it was almost like he'd been burned.
"Angelica."
The way he said my name made me stop.
His face had changed completely.
"Move."
I stepped back.
"Adrian-"
"I said move."
His voice rose sharply.
I took another step back.
"Okay."
But he wasn't finished.
"This needs to stop."
I stared at him.
"What?"
"This." He gestured between us, anger cutting through every word. "Coming into my office whenever you feel like it. Trying to take my phone. Asking questions about my personal life. Getting this close to me."
My smile disappeared.
"I was just joking."
"I don't care."
That one hurt.
"You need to remember where you are and who I am."
I went completely still.
"You're my employee, Angelica."
Silence.
Something cold settled in my stomach.