Pretending To Love Mr Hill

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

They walked hand in hand out of the boardroom, she felt relieved that everything was over, she breathed in the air outside the boardroom and it was as if she had been choked since, the tightness in her chest finally loosening with every step away from the cameras and the noise.

She came out of her daze when Travis asked, "Are you good?"

She blinked. "Hmm," she replied.

Travis raised an eyebrow. "You sure?"

She nodded, not knowing what to say. He nodded too and rubbed his thumb in her palm, slow and absentminded, like it was the most natural thing to do in the world, she flinched and realized they were still holding hands she quickly drew her hand back like she'd been electrified, rubbing her palm against the back of her dress while shifting away just a little.

Travis rubbed the back of his head, an awkwardness rising between them. He looked down as if shy, and for a moment she couldn't believe it, Travis, shy? He was about to say something, his mouth already opening, when Andre came out of nowhere, interrupting.

"Good job today, Amelia."

This drew a smile from Amelia, "Thank you," she said.

He nodded, then turned to face Travis. "Boss, you have a meeting right about now."

Travis nodded, and Andre went back to his tablet. Amelia took this as her sign to leave.

"I'll go back to my office now," she said.

She didn't wait for him to answer before she excused herself and walked to the elevator, her heels clicking a little too fast against the marble floor, her heart still thudding somewhere in her throat.

The elevator doors closed and she finally let out the breath she didn't know she'd been holding, she caught her own reflection in the polished steel, cheeks still faintly pink, and groaned inwardly. Get it together, Amelia.

After changing out of the godforsaken gown, she was back at her desk in her regular clothes, the ones that actually felt like her, going through her emails when she heard whispers from the desk behind her. She didn't mean to listen, but as the whispering got louder, she caught a few words.

"Really, the intern?"

"Did she seduce him?"

She heard a few laughs before they continued, really low, someone said how she wasn't even that pretty, and anger began to build low in her stomach, hot and coiling, they were allowed to say everything they wanted, she supposed, but they were not allowed to call her ugly, because she wasn't, and they knew that.

She'd seen them check her out before, comparing themselves to her, she tried really hard to ignore the rest of what they were saying, tried to focus on her emails, on the little numbers next to each subject line, she tried focusing on anything that wasn't the sound of her own name being dragged through the mud two desks away, she suddenly needed water.

She reached into her bag, grabbed her bottle, and took a sip. The coolness of the water seemed to quench the fire burning in her, even if it was only for a second, she dropped the bottle, grabbed her mouse, and kept working, her eyes fixed on the screen even though the words on it had stopped making sense minutes ago.

As long as they couldn't say it to her face, she didn't care, she knew she didn't seduce Travis. Gosh, she didn't even know the first thing about seduction, she barely knew how to flirt, let alone lure a billionaire CEO into an engagement.

Foolish girls, she thought they'd say anything because of jealousy. It was easier to believe she'd schemed her way into his bed than to believe he'd simply chosen her, easier to hate a villain than accept a stroke of luck they didn't understand.

She couldn't do anything or say anything, because it would ruin her boss's reputation, she didn't want a rumor going round about the CEO of Hills Corporation's fiancée beating people up in the break room that would be fun, she thought, and a small, involuntary smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

Amelia Carver, headline material for all the wrong reasons, this made her chuckle, but she caught herself before it escaped, pressing her lips together, swallowing it down as much as she wanted to, she couldn't, it wouldn't just ruin Travis it would ruin her career

This was sadly going to be her life for the next three months, 3, she didn't know how long she could go before she snapped and broke somebody's finger, but she had to try, so she sat upright, rolled her shoulders back the way her mother used to tell her to when she was younger, chin up, and continued what she was doing earlier.

The whispering eventually died down, swallowed by the ordinary hum of the office, phones ringing, keyboards clacking, someone laughing too loud by the coffee machine. Amelia let herself breathe again. She scrolled through three more emails, replied to a vendor about a shipment delay, forwarded a memo she barely read, and glanced at the clock in the corner of her screen more times than she'd like to admit.

Her phone buzzed once on the desk beside her keyboard, she flipped it over without thinking, expecting it to be Cecelia probably checking in on her. Instead, it was a text from an unknown number, it read "thank you"

She stared at it for a long moment she didn't need to ask who it was, it was clearly Travis, what was she supposed to say to this ? She decided not to type back anything she just then locked her phone and slid it face down again, why would he thank her ? She was only doing what she had to. Thinking about this made her remember how he had helped her wear her necklace, she could feel her heart begin to race again

Amelia let out a much needed sigh, very soon it would be time to clock out, and she would go home to the comfort of her apartment, she glanced again at the clock on her desk, twenty more minutes. She could survive twenty more minutes.

She busied herself tidying her desk long before she needed to, stacking papers that didn't need stacking, capping pens that were already capped, anything to keep her hands moving and her mind from wandering back to the boardroom. She touched the butterfly pendant now resting against her collarbone without meaning to, fingers brushing over the cool metal, and pulled her hand away just as quickly, like she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't.

When the clock finally struck five, she didn't wait for the second hand to catch up. She grabbed her bag, logged off her computer, and walked toward the elevator with her head held high, only when the elevator doors slid shut behind her, and she was alone with her own reflection again, did she let her shoulders drop.