The Boss That Wants Control (OLD VERSION)

The Incident

               Running down the hallway, my wet feet leave footprints, while my drenched clothes constantly stream the pool water on the carpeted floors. You could follow my trail all the way from the closed pool.

                "Kristen! Stop!" He yells from behind me. "Kristen, please!"

                Ignoring him, I continue to run to my room. Shoving my hand in my jeans pocket, I struggle to get my card out of it, while sending up a silent prayer to God that the water didn't deactivate the black strip.

                "Kristen, I'm sorry!" He yells out to me again.

                Shoving my card through the slot, the red light flashes....once...twice...three times. Shit. Green light!

                I push the door open just enough to slide through, and shove it closed as soon as I'm through.

                Almost immediately, he's banging on my door, and demanding to be let in.

                Sliding to the floor, I let the tears silently fall down my cheeks.

                "Kristen..." I hear him whisper through the door. "I'm sorry."

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                "Good morning Mr. Sage." I say, avoiding eye contact. "Mr. Youshoik, Mr. Smith, Mr. Bronte, Mr. Mathews, Mr. Young." I greet, looking them directly in the eyes.

                "Good morning." They all reply. I can feel his eyes on me, but refuse to look back at him. Not yet, atleast. It's too soon.

                Sitting beside him, I put my journals on the table, and pull my pen out of my pocket. Writing the date on the top left hand side of the paper, I look towards the front of the room, and mentally prepare myself for hours worth of taking notes.

                "Kristen," Mr. Sage whispers, his breath brushing up against my ear. "Please, let me explain..."

                "Explain what, Mr. Sage?" I ask politely, still looking up at the empty platform.

                "Don't play this shit with me, Kris. You know exactly what I'm talking about." He growls.

                "Don't worry about it, Mr. Sage. I understand. But please, excuse me, I've got a job to do...notes to take." I ground out, turning the exact opposite way of him.

                "I-"

                "Excuse me, men and women, please give a round of applause to our guest..." The speaker drones on and on, while I take notes about every possible important thing they have to say.

                "Fuck it." Isaiah growls, and grabs my upper arm in a tight grip. "Get up."

                "Mr.S-"

                "Shut up."

                Giving him an apprehensive glance, I allow him to drag me out of my chair, and out of the conference room. Slamming the door shut, he shoves me up against the wall, and stares in my eyes.

                "Talk to me." He demands, the words sounding torn from him, his eyes showing his vulnerability.

                "About what?" I ask.

                "Don't fucking play dumb with me, Kris." He growls again. "I said I was sorry, the least you can do, is look me in the eyes like I'm a human being."

                Looking up, I slowly drag my eyes up his body. Sliding them from the ground, I look at his feet, clad in shining black dress shoes, up his muscular legs clothed in black slacks, to his waist that has a belt securing his pants, and his white dress shirt tucked into them. Moving my eyes up further, I look at his hands that are gripping my arms like his life depends on it. Taking a deep breath, I look up more, my head even with his broad chest. His crisp white collar stands out against his deeply tanned neck, his veins straining against his skin like water against a dam. His mouth is pursed, and I can't see his dimples. His nose is scrunched, like it is when he's trying to figure out an answer to his problems. I can see the crinkles around his eyes, but don't pay too much attention beyond that, because his eyes hold mine captive. His eyes look like brooding storm clouds of chocolate. His eyes flicker down to my lips, and I only now realize just how close we are, barely a breath seperating us. Leaning down, his hands squeeze, and he tries to pull me upward. I don't object.

                The clearing of a throat clears the heat, and we jump apart, Isaiah finally letting my arms go.

                "Mr. Young was just wondering if you were coming back in, sir." Mr. Young's assistant says, eyes flickering between the two of us suspiciously.

                "We're coming. Don't worry." Isaiah says, quickly reasserting his authority.

                "Yes sir." The assisstant says, reentering the conference room.

                "I'm not gonna drop this...we will talk about this later." He whispers huskily into my ear, his hand gently caressing my cheek.

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Author's Note:

OH MY GOSH!!! Guys, I have almost 1,000 reads!! AHHHHH!!!! Thank y'all SOOO much! You have no idea how much I love y'all! If y'all want something to happen in this story, let me know, and I'll try to fit it in. Or, if you want a character in here, comment, and let me know!

Hey guys, sorry about the short, late update! But it's getting sooooo close to the World Series, and the Rangers are in THE MOST INTENSE battle for post season EVER!

I promise, once baseball season is over, and the Rangers FINALLY win the World Series, I will update more often.

Love you guys,

FayAnne!(:

P.S. Yes, you're supposed to be confused. You're not supposed to know what happened in the pool. You'll find out later on what happened, and why she acted the way she did. It's only a few chapters after this, I promise. No, no chapters are missing, nor are they in the wrong order, I promise.