"Will you stop that?" he growled at me.
We are currently inside the elevator, just the two of us.
"Stop what, sir?" I inquired, brows narrowing.
"You're breathing so loudly. I don't want to hear it, Miss Dawson." He shot me a glare before looking away.
"I-I'm sorry, sir. I'm just nervous. Can I take back the 'yes'?"
He glared at me once more, but this was longer.
"No."
"H-how about you tell the press about us without me by your side? I mean you go face them, and I'll stay hidden," I suggested, giving him an awkward smile which I knew would make him even more irritated.
"No."
"You can tell them I'm not feeling well, like I have a cold or—"
"No."
"Or I'm having dysmenorrhea and—"
"No."
"How about a backpain?"
"Silence, Miss Dawson."
"Toothache?"
"No."
"Headache?"
"I said, s
