Sentient

Sentient: Chapter Sixteen

I’m hiding out in my room. 

Ever since breakfast this morning, when Mr. Cavanaugh said all those words, I can’t seem to breathe properly. 

There’s a little tinge of tautness in my heart and I’m very well aware that I'm in no position to feel this. Why am I feeling this way? I can’t. This is inappropriate and unprofessional. 

I can’t have feelings for my boss. 

And most of all, I can’t have feelings for Darren Cavanaugh.

He’s not just my boss. He’s the owner of the company. The ultimate casanova… ladies man. He is way out of my league. He can have whoever he wants, someone well within his level—a princess or better yet an heiress too, like him. 

I bet Louise is one of those. Not a princess, but maybe an heiress who’s bound to run her family’s company too. Isn’t that the kind of arrangement rich people do? Arrange their children together to further solidify their foundation and make them even richer?

With a sigh, I open my laptop to check for any new mails. There’s one from Christie, one from Legal and a couple other companies sending out their proposals to me. 

I’ll open the one from Legal first, since it’s probably more important. 

From: mariettaphillips.legaldept@lc&c.com

To: charlotteedwards@lc&c.com 

Ms. Edwards,

I apologize for the delay of the renewed contracts. You’ll find them attached 

in this email along with the one from our latest acquisition. Thank you for 

understanding. 

Marietta 

Marietta Phillips | Lawyer

House Counsel

Linus-Clyde & Cavanaugh

332 Park Ave South, NYC

Just as she says, the attachments were there. So I make an email with the contract file and then send it to all the partners that were in the meeting earlier this week. 

Then, I check out Christie’s email. 

From: christianapetosa@lc&c.com

To: charlotteedwards@lc&c.com 

You’ve gotta see this. 

Your Guardian Angel ;)

I snigger at her signature. That one’s new. It used to be ‘Your always hungry neighbor’ But I guess she has better objectives in this life right now.  

There’s a pdf file attached in her email and I check it. It’s an article about Mr. Cavanaugh from the Philippine Daily Inquirer. 

Date worth $200,000 sold at an auction in Boracay. 

I immediately dial Christie’s number and she picks up at the first ring. 

“Did you see it?” She asks. 

I sit on my window couch, overlooking the backyard. The huge willow tree still stands at the corner, underneath it the swing that Dad built when we were kids.

“What is it?”

“Apparently, our smokin’, pippin’ hot boss bought a date for two hundred grand… cash.”

I frown. “What do you mean bought?”

“It’s like an environmental fundraiser thing.”

I scroll down the article and find two photos. The first one is Mr. Cavanaugh, in a suit holding a champagne flute looking as glorious as ever. And the second one is the girl he acquired the date for. At the caption underneath, it says Louise Allen. 

That’s Louise. That’s the woman Mr. Cavanaugh’s probably in love with. 

My heartbeat picks its pace as I stare at her photo. She’s glamorous… beautiful. Someone worth two hundred thousand dollars for a date. 

“Hiding?” A voice booms from the doorway. 

My head immediately snaps in his direction and sees him leaning against the frame, his arms crossed together. I quickly close my laptop, end my call with Christie, and stand up.

“Oh um,” I stammer, pushing aside a stray hair on my cheek. “Legal already sent the new contract. I already forwarded them to the partners.” 

“You’re working?” He asks. 

I smile. “It’s Saturday sir, it’s our busiest day. I have to oversee everything at the office or we’ll be swamped on Monday.” 

“You really can’t stop, can you?” A small smirk appears on his lips.  

“It’s a habit I can’t refrain myself from doing, Mr. Cavanaugh.”

“About that,” He frowns. “Where and when did you ever hear someone call their boyfriend so formally like you do?”

I purse my lips, “You’re not my boyfriend, Sir. You’re my boss.”

A fact that strikes a great deal of pain in me. 

He sees my expression and immediately gets worried, walking closer to me. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, sir.” I respond, looking down.

“Stop calling me sir.” He orders, his eyes suddenly devoid of humor. 

I try to laugh but it comes out awkwardly. “I’m sorry, I’m just not comfortable calling you anything else, Sir.”

Then he takes another step towards me, this time we’re only inches apart. “It’s not anything else, Charlotte. It’s my name. Why don’t you try saying it?”

I swallow heavily, I can almost hear the sound it made. Gulp. 

What is he doing? Why is he doing this? This is definitely not going to help me take my feelings down a notch. I told myself I’m gonna act extra professional around him but then he does this. 

“Darren…” I whisper, my voice shaky. “Sir.”

He tuts. “Ah ah ah! Why don’t you try that again one more time?”

I purse my lips before speaking again, looking directly into his eyes. “Darren.”

The corner of his lips turns up into a smirk as he looks down on me, a certain glint sparkling in his eyes. I can’t believe I’m staring into them like this—seeing them up close and intimately. I could see every detail. It’s like they’re pulling me, further deep into confusion and chaos and I couldn’t resist. 

“Is there anything else you want to say to me, Ms. Edwards?”

I think I’m in love with you.

But of course I’m not saying that. 

I let out a heavy breath and whisper, “No, Darren.”

“Hey, lovebirds!” Patty’s voice booms, slicing through the tension between us. I step back a little and look at her. “We’re going to the fair. Fourth and I have a booth set up so you wouldn’t want to miss this.”

 I smile at her and shimmy my arms with fake enthusiasm, “Yay!”

Patty leaves and I return my gaze to Mr. Cavanaugh, who’s still staring down at me with an amused expression on his face. 

“Let’s go.” I give him a quick smile, patting his bicep hard twice before grabbing my sling bag and going out of the room. 

That was close.