Patience
1085 Words
When finals had rolled around their senior year of college, Diana had been very intense about her studies. Almost always at the campus library, he'd find her with her nose glued to a book, sometimes completely unaware of her surroundings. Once, he'd sat down next to her and it had taken nearly an hour for her to finally realize his approach.
If he tried to speak to her, he'd get a harsh shush.
If he tried to tease her with his usual tactics, she'd just outright ignore him.
After days of this treatment, Brent was fed up, and childishly, he'd shut the book she'd been notating.
It had seemed like a good idea at first, jarring her awake, dragging her attention to him--except she wasn't like other girls. She didn't preen under his gaze, wouldn't offer him the same welcoming smile or come-hither look.
That day, her face had twisted like she saw something sour.
And heart had jolted at the sight of it.
"Get away from me."
It was a command, the way you would direct a mangy dog.
Nobody had ever spoken to Brent that way, no female at least. Looked at him with such contempt.
It had been shocking then and it was all he could think about now, her gaze just as sharp as she stared up at him, expression one of absolute challenge. "Are you partnering with me or Blackwell?" Grown now, there was no contempt in her gaze, at least not yet. Cold, calculating, she was in pajamas but with her sure stance, she might as well have had on one of her work suits. It was obvious she'd been appraising him carefully, paying close attention to all of the odd "coincidences" piling up between them.
Theodore Blackwell was purposely making ripples.
His involvement was too obvious, almost sloppily so. Brent wondered if it wasn't on purpose.
"You're the only person I'm offering to partner with," he told her earnestly. Any deal he'd made with Blackwell could hit the back burner if it meant he could have Diana.
She was incredibly close to him, staring up at him a way that he was sure he'd enjoy were it under different circumstances. Brent was much more accustomed to giving the third degree rather than receiving it but, eying the pretty thing before him carefully, he thought he wouldn't mind her interrogation. After all, he hadn't done anything wrong. Not really.
"Did you know that Blackwell gave your number to Audrey?" Diana pressed.
"No. That was a pleasant surprise."
"It doesn't bother you that Blackwell is using you like a pawn?" she pressed.
He gave her a sheepish smile. "I may have played an integral part in causing that."
She glared at him."What do you mean?"
"I told him that I knew you. That we'd been friends in college."
Narrowed eyes, a skeptical gaze. "Why would you tell him all of that?"
"I thought it was obvious," Brent stated, giving her a dubious look. "I'm pursuing you."
Something shifted in Diana's expression and he watched with amusement as she tucked her hair behind her ear. "You mean you want to work with me," she clarified.
Brent nodded. He was pursuing her in multiple ways, of course, but that was the important one for now. "You're fierce and brilliant and I'd be hard pressed to find anyone who could compete with you on trial."
Diana leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest. "You can't compliment your way out of this."
"I believe flattery can get you everywhere," he grinned down at her, relieved that her stance had become more relaxed.
She frowned at him, clearly not impressed.
Brent just watched her, waiting. There was little doubt that she had more questions.
"How long have you wanted to work with me?"
"Since the day we graduated." It was the truth. He had no reason to lie about it.
She was still looking up at him, reading his intentions he suspected. He just matched her gaze, aware that what he'd said might sound ridiculous. "Why?"
"You were always studious and honest and I always knew you'd be great at whatever you put your mind to." He gave a slight shrug, almost dismissive. He wasn't trying to downplay it or anything, he just knew it to be the truth.
To Brent's surprise, Diana dropped her gaze and, for a moment, he thought she might be flustered.
Do trial attorneys get flustered?
"Let me get changed," she said, moving quickly to the glass coffee table, grabbing her phone. Gesturing to the couch, she mumbled, "You can have a seat. I'll be quick."
Moving around the couch, Brent plopped down onto the cushion, glancing over his shoulder to watch her move briskly into the bedroom, shutting the door behind her.
Things seemed to be moving in a good direction.
At the very least, she hadn't kicked him out of her apartment.
He guessed he'd said the right things, then.
Still, he felt certain this was only the beginning of the mounting questions she'd have for him.
If there was anything he'd learned about Diana during their time in college, it was that she was a great communicator. Easy to talk to, quick to steer the direction of the conversation any way that suited her best. And she would remember every little detail he dropped to compare with Blackwell's story at a later date.
He would remain honest but vague.
He had no intention of lying to Diana.
He didn't want to deceive her.
But.
He hated that there was a but.
It would be so much easier, he thought with his arm resting against the back of the couch, head resting against this closed fist, if he could just approach her as a simple man in search of a life partner.
But.
He thought of the girl with that focused gaze.
The intensity of her glare when she was interrupted.
If he never wanted that look of contempt, he would have to tread lightly.
The safest way to win her over, Brent was certain, was to intertwine their careers first.
Align his goals with hers.
Elevate her.
Win her over completely.
And all the while, he would continually bind her to himself--first, through employment, later, with a marriage contract.
He would use every opportunity that presented itself to him.
He would play it smart.
He would be patient.
Brent Holdings had no qualms against playing the long game if it meant reaping all of the rewards.
- Writer
