Rash Decisions (PREVIEW)

Chapter 7 - What Am I Doing?

JULIA FERRIS

Even after leaving Troy’s office, my insides burned with anxiety, while at the same time colliding with the misplaced beginnings of infatuation with a man who is beyond infuriating. What the hell is wrong with me? I need to get a grip. 

I lift my hand to wipe the beads of sweat forming on my brow, while clamping my teeth down on my bottom lip, trying to focus on my designs, but even I know it's a useless attempt to distract.

Maybe it is his eyes. The way his deep ocean blue orbs always feel deliberate. I get the sense Troy doesn’t waste anything. Nothing. Not when it comes to his words, his movements, his intentions. So, when his eyes drag heavily over me, I question what he’s playing at. Is he plotting or appreciating? The dichotomy has me on the edge of my seat, but I swear to God, I will never admit that aloud.

I rub my temples as I stare at the three designs spread out on my desk. Regardless of his awkward “Thank you”, if Troy wasn’t going to play fair, then I have my own leads to follow and snag.

I didn’t know what frustrated me more at the moment, that man down the hall, or the three illustrations in front of me. I peer over at the time and see it nearing seven o’clock. Claire left hours ago. She wished me a cute farewell as she saw me at the design table furiously coloring each sketch and offered me a coffee as sustenance. She’s a good assistant, and I keep telling myself I need to get to know her better. 

I can’t help but think the chill outside must be brutal which will make my journey home torturous for this west coast gal. 

Chewing my lip, I tell myself that I need to choose a design before I leave. The silence outside my office is calming, at least, and this should be an easier decision than I am making it.

Letting out a small huff, I whisper to myself, “Ok Jules, if you were a billionaire coming out with a new restaurant, who likes fast cars and fast woman, which would you choose … ?”

The sound of short shuffles jolts my body more than it needs to, but after thinking I was in the office alone, my eyes shoot to my doorway.

I gulp at the adorable sight, the corners of my mouth twitching in such a way I can’t remember since being back home.

A little girl, with striking straight midnight hair to her shoulders, and glowing blue eyes in the fluorescents peers from the doorway. Her body half hiding at maybe 3-4 feet tall.

Her lips are wriggling in a timid smile as we acknowledge one another and I cannot help my mouth spreading at the sight of her. 

“Well, hello there.”

The little girl, as if waiting for the cue all along, making me wonder how long she was staring in the first place, quickly replies, “Hi-hi.”

Her voice is sweet and effortlessly confident, and I cannot help but want to giggle. I watch her bob on her feet, filling the small void of silence. I stand from my seat and walk around my desk.

“Would you like to come in?” I ask, gesturing elaborately.

She grins wide, revealing tiny white teeth with a funny gap to the right side of her smile. She strolls inside slowly but looks around, taking it all in. I watch her with the same interest as I lean back against my desk, wondering who this child might belong to. It’s so late. Who else is still here? Granted, I haven’t been here that long, and I don’t know too many people in the office within other departments. 

She stops in front of me, and juts out a pudgy arm from her sea-green sweater, finding the clothing more adult when matched with her petite designer jeans for a toddler, but thinking it the green color brings out her bright eyes.