RYAN
I hear a knock on the door and see Mark entering as I raise my head from the pile of papers on my desk.
''Your 2 o'clock will be arriving soon.'' He informs me. ''Do you need anything before I head to the finance department to get the reports you asked for?'' he continues.
''No, just bring them in when they get here,'' I tell him. He gives a nod and leaves.
It's already time for my next meeting. Who was it with?
Shit. I should've asked. I start shuffling on the desk looking for my schedule he prints out for me every day. It's easier to just pick up the paper than scrolling through my tablet or phone.
I hear the door open. ''Oh good, you're here. Who- ''
I'm cut off by a squeal of joy. The fuck? That's not Mark.
''You were waiting for me?'' I hear the familiar voice. Shit.
I look up and see Elsie strutting towards me.
''Did Samantha tell you? Must've been her!'' I get confused with every word coming out of her mouth. No, my sister didn't tell me shit. Considering the last time, she called me was a month ago just to hint at what she wanted for her birthday.
''How did you get up here?'' I ask agitated. She's not supposed to get past reception let alone be in my office.
''Oh, Sammy pulled a few strings and got me in.'' She says nonchalantly as she moves around my desk.
Well, that gives me a reason to ban our dear Sammy from even being in the vicinity of this building.
Samantha has already been using her name to be a menace is this office but she's burnt the bridge by this trick of her.
''I missed you so much.'' She says sitting on the edge of my desk leaning in. ''You haven't called or texted. So, I thought I'd visit you myself.'' She continues placing a hand on my shoulder, leaning in.
Am I missing out on something?
''I know you were worried about what Samantha would think. But she gave us her blessings.'' The fuck?
''What the hell are you talking about,'' I grit out. Is she high on something?
What blessings?
''Didn't you miss me?'' Her other hand finds its way over my jaw as She leans in to kiss me. I move my face to the side and try to dodge but end up with her lips on my cheek. The atmosphere feels suffocating under the weight of her flirtatious advances. I firmly grab the wrist resting against my jaw and swiftly remove it, unwilling to engage in whatever game she's attempting to play.
Without missing a beat, she moves to the shell of my ear and grazes her teeth lightly. ''Didn't you miss this?''
Her words ooze with an overplayed charm that grates on my nerves. She goes lower, peppering light kisses down my neck.
Alright, that's enough. If this is her attempt at seduction, then it's not having the desired effect. This isn't arousing; it's simply aggravating.
Just before I can seize the opportunity to distance myself from her and tell her to fuck off, the sound of a knock resonates through the room.
My head snaps in the direction of the sound, and I curse inwardly as just a second later, my assistant walks in, trailing someone behind him. Mark freezes, unsure of how to proceed, as the person emerges from his shadow.
Air rushes out of my lungs as if I've been sucker punched in the guts. Everything stops. My heart, literally beating in my throat.
It's her.
It's like she materialized from my thoughts and is standing in front of me. Mocking me that I won't be able to get away from her.
She's standing there, frozen. Her eyes wide open. Maybe even more than the last time she found herself in my lap.
No, no, no, no, no, no. Just fucking no. This is not happening right now.
Letting Elsie's hand go I stand up as quickly and as gracefully as possible. Elsie on the other hand takes her merry time, enjoying that there are witnesses to this disaster.
What Elsie could be plotting was the last of my concerns, considering I felt like I was caught cheating.
And that's the most absurd thought that has made its way into my mind to this day.
I watch the shock dissipating from Charlotte's face as her features settle into an impassive mask. A blank, emotionless look spread on her face.
In all the ways I would've wanted to run into her, this is the worst. All thanks to a delusional girl, who can't take a damn hint..
Fuck this shit. She needs to leave.
''Mark, could you escort Miss Elsie out.''
''OMG! Charlotte is that you?'' Elsie says in a fake overexcited voice.
I grimace at the sound, and it seems I'm not the only one as the one being addressed also scrunched her face ever so slightly.
''How long has it been?''
''I can't believe it!''
''What are you doing here?''
Elsie throws one question after the other, basically bouncing on her heels.
They know each other?
''I'm here for a meeting,'' Charlotte replies, getting straight to the point.
''Oh, really? Where do you work?'' Elsie asks.
''I work for Éclaté.'' Her expression, still stoic.
I find myself staring at her, trying to find the flustered, blushing woman who couldn't look me in the eyes. But as much as I try, I can't.
''Oh, I love Éclaté products,'' Elsie replies.
Looking at the both conversing, I can see how much Elsie is faking it and how much Charlotte wants the conversation to be done with.
''Elsie, I think it's time you leave,'' I speak up before she throws another question out.
''Oh, of course.'' She tells me in a honey-dripping voice. ''And we should totally hang out!'' She turns to Charlotte.
''Sure.'' Her voice, devoid of any promises.
''Bye, babe!'' She squeals over her shoulder making her way out.
What is this girl high on?
Right when I think I'm free of her, she turns around and blows me a kiss.
I close my eyes for a second, finding all my patience as I hear the door click.
Fucking finally.
As I open my eyes, I find the two people left in the room staring at me.
Mark coughs awkwardly. ''I'll get coffee.'' And makes a run for it. And I can't even blame him.
Elsie Silver had no business being here and the ones who had a hand in the creation of this debacle have hell to pay.
But first things first. Try to fix my image in front of the woman eyeing me
''Good evening, Mr. Kane. I am Charlotte Evans, from Éclaté.'' Charlotte comes forward, raising her hand between us. I've never cared about what impression I left on the other person. It didn't matter. And most of all, those impressions were not formed in my current situation.
I take her hand, noticing how mine swallows hers and silently relish in her touch.
What am I, a teenager in puberty?
''Ryan Kane.'' I look at her and there's a strange flicker in her eyes. I can't quite put my finger on it. Dislike? Annoyance? It's gone before I can pinpoint what it is.
''I apologize for what you just had to see; it was highly inappropriate on my behalf,'' I add a necessary apology.
''It's alright,'' she tells me as I take her appearance in.
My eyes scan over her curves that are highlighted by the skirt that sticks to her like skin. Her heels add a few inches to her height as her head reaches my shoulders. My eyes meet her hazel one as she assesses me in her own way. My eyes drop to her luscious lips shaded in crimson red.
A fleeting image of her back in my lap, her lips on mine, flashes through my mind. I quickly push it to the back of my mind, returning to reality, shaking off the haze of infatuation before I embarrass myself any further.
''This way, please.'' I point to the couches my friends had been occupying just a few hours ago, talking about her. Poking and prodding me with her existence.
I watch her as she settles in her place.
''Mr. Harris was supposed to be joining me today, was he not?'' I ask as I settle across her. Watching her as she places her bag beside her.
She looks so petite compared to my frame. But still so strong. So put together. Like she has a steel wall around her.
''Yes, but his wife went into labour this morning.'' She informs me, placing her laptop on the coffee table between us.
She doesn't say another word. Doesn't spare me another glance. And focuses solely on the laptop as she types and clicks away.
My gaze lingered upon her, I found myself captivated by the effortless grace that seemed to envelop her. Every detail, from the way her hair was tied into an updo, to the subtle elegance of her posture, held an irresistible allure.
''Before we get started. I'd like to ask what your countermeasures are for the YouTuber situation?'' I ask as I come up with my new strategy. There's no way I can go back in time so let's just get strictly professional from here onwards.
She looks up in surprise as if she wasn't expecting me to ask that.
''Yes, of course.'' She says sitting up straight, meeting my eyes.
"The products featured in the video are not original; the entire video was staged, and we are transparent about it. We have made efforts to reach out to her using the available information, but she remains unreachable at the moment. If she persists in evading our attempts to communicate, she will be receiving a letter from our legal team."
''And are you confident that you can resolve this?''
''Yes. I am.'' I know better than to take words at face value.
''Very well.'' The words are out of my mouth before I know it. If it were her colleague, I'd have dissected every ounce of the reasoning behind his answer. However, the conviction in her tone convinces me.
''I will be looking forward to the results then.'' I continue.
''Of course,'' she says and gets back to her laptop.
Mark comes in and places the cups by our sides and leaves without a word.
''Shall we start?'' she asks and turns the laptop at an angle from which the screen is visible to both of us. I nod my agreement and a crisp click signals the start of the presentation.
The first slide shows graphs and charts across the screen, illustrating the company's financial performance with precision.
"As we delve into the numbers," her voice carries a steady assurance, "you'll notice a steady uptick in our revenue stream over the past quarter. Our strategic marketing initiatives have not only increased customer engagement but also bolstered our market share."
Her gestures were purposeful, pointing out key data points with confidence. She's speaking with a blend of technical acumen and passion for the company's vision.
As the presentation unfolds. She seamlessly transitions from financials to operational highlights.
Her gentle voice strokes my soul and I might as well be listening to her talk about the weather. I'd listen to her talk about anything really, as long as I can be lulled by the sound of her voice.
The ring of a phone echoes through the room, interrupting Charlotte and causing her to pause, momentarily bewildered, before realizing it's her own device. She turns to rummage through her bag, swiftly silencing the call with a glance at the screen, then sets her phone aside with a muttered "Sorry," before resuming.
As she begins discussing the details of the successful project launched just a month ago, her phone interrupts once more, emitting a series of pings followed by another insistent ring.
She sucks in a breath, picking up her phone.
''I'm so sorry,'' she says, seemingly powering her phone off and tosses her phone back in her bag without another look.
I shake my head signifying that it's no problem.
Continuing to speak, she goes through the details of market expansions, outlines the plans for the upcoming product launch and reaches the last slide finishing her presentation.
''Any questions I can address for you, Mr Kane?'' she asks me.
I nod and begin to inquire about future projections and potential challenges. With a composed demeanor, she fielded each question, addressing concerns with a mix of transparency and strategic insight.
A sense of accomplishment radiates from her as she answers my last question and shuts the laptop.
Although her professional mask hasn't dropped, she seems to be a bit more relaxed than she was at the start.
''That was a great presentation, and I must say, your analysis into the market are quite impressive. Your projections are solid."
She nods, maintaining a professional demeanor. "Thank you, Mr. Kane. It was a team effort and I'm glad you found it insightful.''
''If that's all. I will take my leave,'' she says, moving to retrieve her bag. However, she notices it has tipped over, scattering some of her belongings beside her.
"Shit," she mutters under her breath, her expression a mixture of confusion and annoyance. With a small smile creeping onto my face, I observe as she knits her brows, swiftly gathering each item and tossing them back into her bag.
She's done sooner than I'd like. And it's stupid that I want her bag to magically topple over again so she can remain here, across from me for a bit longer.
But she's up and ready to leave my office.
''Let me walk you out,'' I say, not ready to part ways just yet.
''Oh, no. It's alright.''
''I insist,'' I affirm as I stride towards the door, holding it open and extending my arm, a silent indication that I am not backing down.
She doesn't resist any further and walks towards me.
As we pass Mark's desk, he stands abruptly, but I discreetly wave my hand for him to sit back down and remain where he is. Confusion clouds his expression as he watches us proceed to the elevator.
The short walk comes to an end, much to my dismay.
''It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Evans,'' I say and extend my hand as the elevator doors open.
''Likewise, Mr. Kane,'' she says, taking my hand and looking up at me. Her eyes meet mine. There was a pause, a weighty silence that hung in the air. I wanted her to stay, to express the quiet longing that had settled in my chest, but the boundaries of this undefined connection held me back.
She releases her hand from mine, gives me a final nod and walks into the elevator. My hand balls into a fist by my side, trying to keep her warmth, locking it in for as long as possible as our eyes stay locked until the elevator doors slide closed.
I walk back to my office ignoring Marks questioning gaze and move straight towards the couch and settle in the spot she had occupied a mere minute ago.
As I lean back, spreading out in the space, the back of my hand brushes against something cold. Turning my head, I notice something peeking out from between the couch cushions. Intrigued, I narrow my eyes and reach to retrieve it, pulling out a small glass vial of perfume. Bringing it closer, I'm enveloped by a familiar scent.
The scent of her rosy perfume surrounds me, and I find solace in the delicate aroma, an intoxicating blend that seems to capture the essence of a blooming garden. I subtly inhale, savouring the moment. Her scent was a symphony of floral notes and a hint of warmth, creating an irresistible allure that enveloped me. It becomes a lingering memory, an indelible mark on my senses, leaving me eagerly anticipating the next encounter where I could once again be engulfed in the intoxicating aura of the woman who had effortlessly captured my attention.
The realization settled deep inside me. I want to meet her again. I need to see her again. And there's no point in denying it.
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