Under the Mistletoe

Close Proximity

I spent the rest of the meeting focused on the floor, gripping the cool cup of water between my hands. With every passing moment, I tried to ground myself, pushing away the distractions of Ben’s presence. When the meeting finally came to a close, I forced a professional smile onto my face before meeting Ben's gaze.

“Thank you for coming, Mr. Miles,” I said, extending my hand. He took it in his much larger, calloused hand, and I ignored the jolt that surged down my arm and the lustful clench in my stomach.

“Likewise, May,” he replied, giving my hand a brief shake. His stare lingered on me for a second longer than necessary before returning to Mason.

“We will be in touch. May, would you please walk me out?” Ben’s request felt less like a question and more like an unspoken command, and I swallowed the lump forming in my throat as I nodded.

I slowly walked toward the elevator beside him, the silence thick with unspoken tension. As we entered, he hit the button for the garage floor. I could feel the heat radiating from his large figure as he stood next to me, and my nerves returned in full force. The hairs on my arms stood at attention, my body acutely aware of our proximity.

The elevator descended, the soft hum of machinery filling the space between us. I tried to focus on the numbers lighting up above the door, but my mind was spinning, replaying the moments we had just shared. I could feel his presence beside me, strong and magnetic, yet I sensed a tension that wasn't there before. I glanced at Ben, but his posture was stiff, his gaze fixed straight ahead.

Suddenly, his business voice broke through the silence, sharp and commanding. “When did you start here?”

I swallowed hard. “Um, I started about three and a half weeks ago,” I whispered, my heart racing.

He crossed his arms over his chest, a gesture that felt defensive. “I assume your father fired you from his company after I declined that deal from Adaline?”

The words felt like a weight on my chest, the feeling of being caged creeping in. “I was indeed told to leave the office and the family house after Adaline told them I sabotaged the deal,” I whispered softly, trying to keep my composure.

He hummed thoughtfully for a moment. “Did you ever intend to call me back?” His voice remained sharp and emotionless, nothing like the Ben I once knew.

I hesitated, not knowing how to respond. As we passed the third floor, Ben suddenly hit the emergency stop button, the elevator jolting to a halt. He turned to face me, his body looming over me, eyes sharp and focused, his expression devoid of emotion.

I swallowed and instinctively took a small step back, feeling the cold metal of the elevator wall at my back. “I asked you a question, May. Did you intend to call me back?” His voice was low, a hint of something intense in his tone.

A shiver ran up my spine, not from fear but from desire. He was gorgeous, and I felt like putty in his hands. I swallowed hard, my hands shaking. “May?” he growled, stepping closer. My breath lodged in my throat as his cologne washed over me, intoxicating and familiar. I quickly ducked my head, trying to regain my composure. My breaths came out in small, quick puffs as my legs trembled.

His hand gripped my chin gently, tilting my head up so our eyes met. His dark brown eyes searched mine, and I felt a rush of warmth at the closeness. “Did you intend to call me back or not?” he whispered, his breath grazing my lips.

“Yes,” I murmured, barely audible. His eyes roamed over my face before he released me, stepping back. I felt a chill at the loss of his warmth.

“Why did you not come to me for help?” he asked, his voice still low but now edged with something more vulnerable.

I shook my head, struggling to find the right words. “I did. I do intend to call you back. I've just been busy finding my feet and settling into my new job,” I whispered, my voice slightly stronger than before.

He tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly. “Are you ignoring my questions on purpose?” His tone was low and commanding, sending a jolt through me.

My thighs clenched at the sound of his voice. Why was this interrogation affecting me so deeply? “I’m not ignoring you on purpose. I didn’t call you because… because…” I hurried to piece together a proper response that didn’t make me sound pathetic. “Because I didn’t need your help,” I finished lamely, straightening up and puffing out my chest slightly.

I could see the anger flash through his eyes, and I quickly continued. “When my dad kicked me out of the house, Rachel offered for me to stay at hers and allowed me a few hours at her café. Once I got settled, I applied for Mason’s company and got the job. I was going to call you, but time got away from me. I’m sorry,” I rushed out, trying to ignore my racing heart.

Ben stood there calmly, watching me as I battled my raging emotions. After what felt like an eternity, he hit another button on the door, and the elevator launched back into motion. My heart hammered in my chest as he faced the doors, the silence growing deafening.

Just as the elevator dinged and the doors opened, Ben took a step forward, as if ready to leave, but then paused. “Dinner Saturday at 6 PM. I’ll pick you up from Rachel’s house,” he said quietly before stepping out.

I watched his retreating back, my hands shaking as the weight of his words sank in. A mix of anticipation and confusion washed over me, and I was left standing in the elevator, trying to process everything that had just happened.

The rest of the week was a blur. My nerves grew each day as my date with Ben approached. Date? Was it even a date? The uncertainty made my anxiety spike tenfold. I couldn’t decide if I wanted it to be a date or not, which only added to the confusion swirling in my mind.

At work, Mason seemed increasingly anxious and hot-headed, especially since we hadn’t heard back from Ben. His short temper made everyone walk on eggshells, and the tension in the office was palpable. Jemma, another member of the financial team, and I found ourselves on the receiving end of his frustration, caught in the crossfire of his mood swings over the smallest things.

As Friday drew to a close, I felt a wave of relief wash over me. I was ready to leave the office behind for the weekend. I noticed Mason’s light still on in his office and paused beside Jemma, my eyes lingering on the door. “Should we go check on him?” I asked, reluctant to venture in there; the last time I did, I was stuck until 11 PM.

I glanced at my phone—5:30 PM. “You can,” Jemma replied, throwing her scarf over her shoulder. “We’ve already done 30 minutes of overtime. I don’t want to get stuck doing more. That, or he’s in there drinking. Be careful; he’s quite the ladies’ man and doesn’t care about the ‘don’t mix work with pleasure’ motto. Half the women here already have their bets down. Mason does seem interested in you."

I gave Jemma a strained smile, the thought of Mason with a drink in hand unsettling. “I doubt that. They’re probably getting the wrong idea since I’m just around him a lot as his secretary.”

Jemma shot me a disapproving look. “Girl, your role is normally up for advertisement every three months. Most of them fall for Mason’s charm, live the high life for a few months, then he grows bored and moves on,” she warned.

I laughed, trying to brush off her concerns. “That’s fine. I’ll break the cycle. I’m not interested in Mason, no matter how charming he is.”

Jemma shook her head, her eyes gleaming with doubt. “Just be careful. I don’t want to lose all your hard work and get another dumb bimbo in here.”

“Trust me, I can handle myself,” I replied, but the unease in my gut lingered. I didn’t want to think about the implications of being close to Mason, especially with everything going on with Ben.

As I stood there, I was contemplating whether to check on Mason or just leave. After a moment’s hesitation, I decided to leave Mason to his own devices and focus on getting ready for my date tomorrow.