ARIA
The telephone buzzed beside me, breaking the silence that had been stretching on for what felt like forever. I jumped a little. Only one person ever called me through that line. I pressed the button, trying to steady my voice. “Yes, Mr. Grey?”
“Come to my office.” That deep voice—steady, commanding, and impossible to ignore—cut off before I could even answer.
Straightening my skirt, I made my way to his office. I opened the door and there he was—leaning back in his chair, eyes fixed on the screen in front of him. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, veins visible on his forearms, as he typed.
He didn’t look up to acknowledge my presence like he didn't know I was here. I told myself not to stare. I really did. But my eyes had other plans. His brows were perfectly shaped, dark
