"WHAT THE HELL?"
"OW!"
We shout in unison as both our phones slip from our hands.
My heel twists painfully inside my pump, and before I can hit the floor, I instinctively grab onto his arm. At the same time, my hair clip gives up on me, sending my hair tumbling down my back. A strong, steady hand wraps around my waist, holding me firmly before gravity can win.
Straight out of a movie.
"I'm so sorry..."
I slowly lift my head.
And freeze.
A pair of piercing blue eyes stare back at me, stealing the air from my lungs.
Leonard Parker.
The Relentless.
Whatever he was about to say dies on his lips. My brain turns to mush as my heart pounds wildly against my ribcage, painfully aware of the firm chest pressed against mine beneath his crisp white shirt.
I glance at him over the rim of my old-lady glasses.
Surprise flickers across his face.
Heat rushes to my cheeks.
So much for believing I was immune to his infuriatingly perfect face. Neither of us moves. His hand remains securely around my waist, and I can't bring myself to look away.
Somewhere behind us, I hear Laila rushing over.
"Mr. Parker! Are you alright?"
Of course that's the first thing she asks. Not me.
Bitch.
For a brief, impossible moment, everything around us disappears. There's something in the way he's looking at me. Something electric.
Even when Laila reaches for his arm, his eyes never leave mine.
"Blair! Let go of Mr. Parker!"
Only then do I realize I'm still gripping his forearm, my body pressed far closer to his than it should be.
"Oh my God... I'm so sorry, Mr. Parker."
I immediately release him and take a hurried step back, grateful for the space between us.
"I was looking at my phone. I didn't even see you."
He arches one eyebrow before the corner of his mouth lifts into the faintest hint of a smile, as though the idea of someone not noticing him is mildly amusing.
I swallow hard.
What am I supposed to say now?
He finally looks away and bends down to pick up both phones.
Oh, s**t.
My phone. The message. He's going to see it.
Panic surges through me.
I lunge forward to grab it, forgetting he's doing the exact same thing.
Our foreheads collide.
"Ouch..."
I stumble back, rubbing my forehead.
For the first time in two years, Leonard Parker speaks directly to me.
"Damn it, woman. Are you always this clumsy?"
That's it.
I'm fired.
Goodbye, generous salary.
Goodbye, gym membership.
Goodbye, spa benefits.
Goodbye, employee discounts on expensive wine.
He rubs the top of his head, clearly annoyed, but before handing me my phone, his eyes flick down to the screen.
My blood turns to ice.
It isn't locked.
The message is still open.
He read it.
He actually read it.
I can't force a single word past my lips.
My heart races while humiliation spreads through every inch of my body.
He simply hums.
"Hm."
That's it?
Just...
"Hm."
With a quiet sigh, he hands me my phone.
My fingers tremble as I take it from him.
He gives me a brief nod before walking away without another word.
Laila follows so closely she might as well be glued to him.
She doesn't even spare me a glance.
Then again...
After reading a message like that, I probably wouldn't apologise either.
The moment they're out of sight, I make a beeline for the restroom on our floor.
I lock myself inside the nearest stall and collapse onto the toilet seat, taking slow, shaky breaths in a desperate attempt to calm down.
His scent still clings to my lilac silk blouse.
I don't think I'll ever wash it again.
Then, just when I think this day can't possibly get any more humiliating...
I feel it.
A strange warmth between my thighs.
Frowning, I lift my pencil skirt, slide my panties down... and stare.
I'm wet.
From a single touch.