Nothing Wrong With Being a Tomboy

Chapter 22: Going Out of My Head

“I granted that Jason MacPherson would be a cranky old man, but I’m just surprised to know that he’s a couple of years younger than me,” Andrew rambled while he made a knot with his tie.

I don’t know why but every movement he made to fix his white dressing blouse and black tie germinated a securing sense that heated my insides. Captivatedly, I just stared straight at his presence. I couldn’t look away as he continued to talk muted words and to walk through the room. In the middle of his pace, he grabbed a control remote and pressed something that made music blast from the speakers. Toning the rock music down, he continued to move his lips… oblivious to my constant staring. 

His lips…

I thought he was going to kiss me yesterday… but in the end, the thought of not stopping him a year ago, made my stomach churn and my heart twist. That’s why maybe he forgot about me.

Maybe? Of course, he did! He already has a date with Lora, who am I going to kid?!

“…The stakes are running high with such a percentage…” those were a few words that I was able to seize as I kept memorizing every detail of his body.

He went to an end table before drawing a chair in front of me and sitting down. “I assumed you had a pathetic notepad so I want you to write in this agenda from now on… starting now.”

Andrew placed a mint-colored meeting agenda, separating the space between me and the paper bags. “Wow,” I sighed contently as I clutched it and the integrated purple pen, “Mr. Lukewood, thank—“

“No, just do your job, Miss Benjamin. Now, for nine o’clock we’ll meet Jason MacPherson for a meeting. I was planning to meet him with Tuck but I don’t find it necessary.”

As he opened the paper bag and took delicious food out of it, I wrote everything that his pretty mouth said, making doodles and scribbles for better effect. My stomach growled, which made him stop talking and he handed me a bag. “Thanks,” I offered a smile which he didn’t return.

“Now, at three call Teresa to inform the chairman that the stocks are higher,” he continued, not even bothering to look at me. “At ten, I have an out-of-office appointment with Lora O’Farrell at the Tourllie.”

I nearly let the pen slip out of my fingers as sweat poured out of me. My eyes staring directly at his, but he never looked at me—he just continued to look at his food, checking and preparing it to eat. “A date?”

His bacon strip was halfway to his mouth when he abruptly stopped, to snap his stunned gaze to mine. A smirk curled the corner of his upper lip upwards, enhancing his handsomeness. “As I said, it’s an out-of-office appointment.”

Nodding nervously, I looked down at the illegible page and wrote it down. “Riley,” Andrew sighed, “as my assistant, you have access to every single thing in my account but apart from that, there’s a thin line between work and personal life.”

“That comes from the boss who lets his assistant sleep in his bed,” I said it a bit too loud, although I intended to ‘think before talking.’ Yeah… it’s not working.

“Yes, it comes from the boss who has uncertain and unprofessional outlooks towards his assistance—who’s more than an acquaintance,” he replied quite icily.

With a lungful inhale of the heated and thick air, he sipped his coffee and continued to eat. And I did the same, inhaling the intense air and gnawing down my food. “I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful,” I started saying weakly and afraid, tired of the acerbic and sharp silence between us.