Capture My Heart (BK3: Niall Horan)

-Ch 13: Overreaction.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Overreaction.

-Ashley Dawson-

They say that if you persistently keep thinking about something, twisting it in your brain, it will eventually work out. So I sat there, tapping my pen against the pale wood of the desk, rolling my gaze over the frosted glass walls, waiting for something to work in my mind.  And when it didn’t I heaved an exasperated sigh and spun around once in the office chair. I smirked to myself as I remembered the fascination I had as a child with my Father’s office ‘spinny’ chair and how I was so adamant I was going to have an office job purely for the entertainment enriched item of seating that came with it.

Cutting my amusement with the spinning chair I let my features fall back into an impassive annoyance as I rested my elbows on the desk, my chin cradled in my hands as I frowned at the plain wall opposite me. I cast a glance back down to the digits that wouldn’t work out in my mind – that quite frankly repelled math – and bit my lip, closing my eyes against the blur of numbers.

I slammed my palms down onto the desk concluding that I was not born to be a mathematician, or for that fact do any kind of maths since it was an utterly useless subject that wasn’t even needed with the amount of technology we had to do it for us. And I would probably not be this stressed if I could find a calculator, but I couldn’t. And in all damn honesty, I couldn’t even begin to fathom the one on my phone.

So I rose from my seat, all ready to go and tell somebody that I couldn’t do this calculation and somebody else would simply have to do it for me. I would have got there if I hadn’t walked into Valerie on my exit and her entrance of the door.

“Sit, sit!” She pestered, waving a hand as she urged me backwards. I raised an eye-brow but obeyed anyway, placing myself back onto the office chair and folding my right leg over my left.

“Now,” she said, glancing briefly down to some papers into her hands. “This is it,” I didn’t know what this was but she seemed to be taking dramatic pauses about getting to it. “We’re gonna have to go America, for the ridiculous reason that these accountants can’t seem to get anything right, so we’ll go and see them in person, settled?”

“Wait, what?” I furrowed my brow, slightly baffled with all this new information and plans. She took a long and heavy sigh, before pulling a chair from the back of the room and placing it in front of mine, her make-up-ed eyes scanning the papers in her hands with a certain look spread across her perfectly sitting features.

“I said, we’re gonna have to go to America. These accountants can’t do anything right and I intend to find out why.” She told me, pairing this with a shrug as she continued to roll her eyes over the papers sitting in her palms. Today her nails were painted a deep shade of crimson, catching the sunlight from the pure glass wall behind me.

“As long as we don’t end up having to do it by ourselves, because I can’t do math to save my life.”

Valerie smirked, reading for a few more seconds before looking up at me. “Neither can I, and we won’t have to. We’re paying them, so therefore they need to get their job done. So we will go and see just what is preventing them for ourselves, okay?”

In all reality, no, this was not really okay. But Valerie was one of those characters in which you feared eternal dislike from if you ever once disagreed with them. I was sure this was not entirely true, she was a nice enough person to who she wanted to be, but I still had this pathetic little yearning to stay on the whole world’s good side.

So I nodded, against my truth and refrained from launching into a total homesickness rage when I realised how ridiculously immature that would be of me. I used to live in America, what was my problem with a small unaccounted for visit? I concluded that I was maybe becoming a little too emotionally attached to anything and everything that seemed to cross my path and fed me a little bit of credibility.