Falling for the Enemy

Ch.2

Althea's Pov

"Althea?" he said once he finally recognized me.

I stood up straight as if I hadn't been preparing to hurl a cookie in his direction. "Oh, so you can actually see me now?"

"Listen, I understand, I simply didn't notice you were sta—"

"What, standing right here?" I uncrossed my arms defensively. If Dave had been accompanying him, I would've controlled my frustration for my brother's benefit...but what Jake remained unaware of wouldn't cause him harm, and this seemed like an ideal way to release the frustration from my absolutely terrible morning.

"How come? Is your ego blocking your vision?"

His gaze sharpened. "I'd argue that your demeanor, not mine, is consuming all the air in this space."

"Your demeanor? You're behaving as though you deserve a red carpet and a bouquet of flowers waiting for you."

"I wasn't aware there was a supervisor I needed to check in with."

"Why don't you purchase some basic respect to match that expensive Armani?" I responded sharply.

"You tell him, girl," a voice from the crowd behind me shouted.

"Must feel wonderful believing you run this place," another person added.

Eros's face became stern. His jaw tightened as though he was restraining comments he'd later regret. "What's happening here, some kind of rebellion?" he said, his tone dripping with mockery. "It's merely a queue, Eros. Don't turn this into such a major production."

"If being a rude guy was actually a crime, you'd be public enemy number one," I shot back. "I'm thinking life sentence, no chance of parole."

He rolled his eyes, like I was a toddler throwing a tantrum. "Why does everything have to be so over the top with you?" he grumbled, low and rough.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said, voice syrup-sweet. "Are we not all just humble extras in the Eros Valenti Universe?" His scowl deepened. "Actually, scratch that, pretty sure extras are treated with more respect."

The irritation radiating off him was practically visible, like heat waves dancing over asphalt. So I went in for the kill. "Pick your next words carefully," I warned him. "Or else?"

He growled, his eyebrows drew together so tightly I thought a vein in his forehead might pop. His voice dropped half a register, and suddenly my spine forgot how to behave. "Can we skip to the part where you realize this isn't worth my time?"

God, why was he like this? "Did your assistant give you a double shot of rude this morning?"

"You think this is funny?" His nostrils flared. Just a little. Not enough for most people to notice. But I wasn't most people.

I narrowed my eyes. "No, I think what's hilarious is the fact that you don't know how a line works."

The comments from the crowd started up again. "Typical! Rich guys think rules don't apply!"

"Let the man through! He's probably late to ruin the economy."

"In case it wasn't obvious, they'd like you to know that the back of the line is over there," I said, gesturing with my thumb. "This isn't your private jet."

Eros bristled even more as the crowd's heckling kicked up another notch. His annoyance seeped out in the heat of his stare. If I was reading him as a character in one of my comic books, he'd have steam coming out his nostrils right about now.

"Do you always have to cause a spectacle?"

"You started it, Mr. Rules-Don't-Apply." He huffed, running a hand through his hair, which was just unfair. He had no business looking this hot when he was worked up.

"Wait, hold it right there," I said, lifting my phone and snapping a picture of him.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Getting a real-time meme for later. The lighting in here highlights your scowl perfectly."

His face turned stormy as he towered over me. He'd always been tall, but standing this close, I had to crane my neck to look him in those steel, grey eyes. His hair was longer than he normally wore it, long enough to run my fingers through. My pulse quickened at that thought, and I beat it back into a dark hole.

"Delete that."

I lowered my phone, pretending to examine the photo. "I don't think I will, Gru."

"Do not call me that."

"It suits you so well." Eros has never mastered the art of smiling—not even if the Joker himself showed up to etch one onto his face…Calling him Gru was simply the only fitting choice.

He straightened his collar in an attempt to incinerate me with his stare, then leaned in so close I could have catalogued every stubble mark shadowing his jaw. Unfairly, he smelled incredible—like cedar and linen mixed with something mysterious I wasn't prepared to identify. "Can't wait to see how you handle the interview tomorrow morning."

Wait? How could he possibly know about that?

"How did you know about that?"

"You'll find out," he replied, flashing a cocky, brilliant smile. "Tomorrow, you'll be coming straight to me." He slipped his business card into the pocket of my polyester shirt and walked toward the exit. I glanced at it and felt my blood freeze. Eros Valenti. CEO. Kent's Global Events Center. The exact company I was interviewing with tomorrow. My stomach plummeted.

Sweet Mother of Monkey Milk.