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1194 Words
I couldn’t move nor speak. The way he looked at me made my stomach wrench in a certain way I didn't understand.
“Uh… I… I’m sorry,” I stammered, feeling the heat rise to my face. My hands gripped the files I was holding tighter, but they felt so slippery like they might fall any second.
He pushed back his chair slowly, standing up. He was taller than I remembered and his suit fitted him perfectly like it was tailored ready made just for him.
“And who are you?” he asked, his deep voice sounding smooth and sexy. His eyes were on mine, harsh but somehow soft at the same time.
“I… I work here,” I said, almost in a whisper. My voice barely sounded like my own.
He raised an eyebrow, stepping around the desk, and coming closer. “I can see that. But what do you do? What’s your position in the company?”
“I’m a… I work in the marketing department,” I replied, wishing my voice didn’t shake so much. “Mr. Lawrence asked me to bring these files to you.”
He stopped just a few steps away from me, tilting his head slightly. “So, you’re?” he said as if trying to place my name in his head.
“Tracy Bennett, Sir,” I answered, feeling so timid under his gaze.
He smiled then, and it wasn’t the kind of smile you see every day. It was the kind that could make you forget everything else around you. “Sir? Let’s skip the formalities. Call me Nick.”
Nick. So that was his name.
“Alright, Mr.—uh, Nick,” I stuttered, wishing he could just take a few steps back.
“Good,” he said, moving even closer. He reached out, taking the files from my hand. His fingers brushed mine lightly, and I felt a jolt that sent shudders through me.
“You’re nervous,” he observed, his eyes narrowing just a bit, but his tone wasn’t unkind. “Why?”
“I’m not nervous,” I said too quickly.
He chuckled softly, setting the files on his desk. “You’re a terrible liar, Tracy.”
My heart skipped at the way he said my name like it was something special.
He leaned on the desk casually, crossing his arms. “So, how long have you been working here?”
“Um, almost three years,” I replied, trying not to notice how close he was now.
“Three years,” he repeated like he was thinking it over. “And do you like it here?”
I hesitated, unsure how to answer. “I guess so. It’s… it’s a good job.”
“You guess?” he said, a smile was growing on his face. “That doesn’t sound very convincing.”
“It’s not that,” I said quickly. “I mean, I like it. It’s just been… a lot lately.”
“A lot?” he repeated, leaning in slightly. “Care to share?”
“No, never mind,” I mumbled, suddenly feeling like I’d said too much.
Nick didn’t press further. Instead, he took a small step closer, his presence was overwhelming. He moved his hand, brushing lightly against a strand of my hair.
“You’ve got something in your hair,” he murmured as his fingers traced it away.
My breath hitched, and I froze. The way he touched me was gentle, but it sent arousal through my whole body.
“You look nice,” he said, his voice lower now. “That blouse suits you.”
He was now staring at my breasts.
I swallowed hard, trying to look anywhere but at his face. “Thank you,” I managed to whisper.
“And the skirt,” he added, his eyes briefly dropping to the lower part of my body before meeting mine again. “Perfect choice.”
I felt my face burning, but I couldn’t move. “You’re, um, well-dressed too,” I blurted out, immediately feeling silly for returning the compliment.
He smirked, clearly amused. “Thanks.”
His hand moved again, this time brushing my shoulder lightly, then tracing a line down my arm. “You don't have to be afraid of me,” he said softly.
I tried to pull away, but my feet didn’t seem to work. “I should get going,” I said weakly, though I didn’t move.
Nick leaned in just a little closer, his breath was warm against my ear. “You don’t have to,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.
My mind was spinning. Everything about him was pulling me in, even though I knew I shouldn’t let it.
“You still owe me an answer,” he said, pulling back just enough to look at me fully.
“About what?” I asked, my voice shaking.
“About the drink,” he said, smiling again. “Or the ride.”
I blinked, trying to remember how to think straight. “Oh, right. I…”
Before I could finish, he turned and walked to a small fridge in the corner of the office. He opened it, pulling out two glasses and a bottle of expensive wine.
“You look like you could use this after all,” he said, pouring the wine into both glasses. He walked back, holding one out to me.
I took it, my fingers brushing his again. “Thank you,” I mumbled, staring at the glass but not drinking.
Nick took a sip from his own glass, watching me. “So?” he said after a moment. “What’s it going to be?”
I looked at him, feeling trapped and unsure. “I don’t know,” I admitted.
Even though he was charming and I wanted to accept his request, the last thing I needed right now was another man disrupting my life, especially not him.
Before he could say more, there was a knock at the door.
“Mr. Nick?” a voice called.
We both turned to see a man standing in the doorway. He was tall, with dark hair and a pointed nose. His suit was a little wrinkled like he’d been rushing.
“Jimmy,” Nick said, changing his tone slightly. “What is it?”
“Your first meeting with the board,” Jimmy reminded him. “They’re ready for you.”
Nick sighed, setting his glass down. “Right. Of course.”
He turned back to me, his expression softening again. “Looks like I'm the one who has to go.”
He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small card. He set it on the table beside me, his fingers lingering for just a moment. “Call me if you've made up your mind,” he said, his voice smooth and confident.
I nodded, unable to say anything.
Nick straightened his jacket, giving me one last look before walking out with Jimmy.
As the door closed behind them, I stared at the card he had placed on the table.
Oh my God! What just happened?
- Writer
