Ghost - in the arms of Death

Chapter 15

I watch him shrug out of his grey suit jacket, his hands slowly undoing his cufflinks and he rolls up the sleeves of his white dress shirt. Yeah, fine, I admit he’s very nice to look at. Makes sense that all those women showed up to the gym to watch him break a sweat. It is quite a sight to behold.

His eyes flick up, catching me staring at him. The corner of his mouth tilts up, but he says nothing about it. He’d better not.

I frown at myself and shake my head as he moves into his kitchen. Everything in his loft is decorated in dark and earthy tones. Dark blue, brown, and dark greens. It’s beautiful and almost feels cozy. Almost.

I walk up to the tall windows and watch the tiny lights down on the streets slowly crawling by. The city sure is beautiful. I can see all the way to the river. If I had a better sense of direction I could probably make out my apartment.

I turn my head at the sound of music playing. Alex moves closer with two glasses in his hands.

“You don’t seem like a wine girl,” he says as he hands me the glass filled with a golden liquid.

“I’m not,” I agree and swirl the whisky in the crystal glass, letting the ice cubes clink against it.

“Why do you live here?” I ask. He frowns at the question as if it doesn’t make any sense to him. “Above your office,” I clarify.

“It’s convenient,” he simply states, “it saves me a trip every morning and every night.”

“You’re a workaholic, aren’t you?”

“While you don’t seem to have any ambition at all.”

“Geez, you know how to make a girl feel special,” I roll my eyes at him.

“You are incredibly smart and I can tell that if you set your mind on something you will do everything necessary to get it. You just don’t make any use of that skill.”

“What for?”

“This,” he says gesturing at his luxurious home.

“No,” I shake my head, “money doesn’t mean shit.”

“It’s nice to have,” he shrugs.

“But something is missing, isn’t it?” I challenge and his brows furrow slightly. I watch his walls come up again. I nod as if that proves my point and take a sip from my glass. The smooth liquid runs down my throat.

“What is it you are missing then?” He asks after a long moment.

*Trigger warning*

“Who!” I say, “it’s who I am missing, not what.”

“Bad breakup?” He guesses but I shake my head and take a deep breath.

“Is that what happened to you?”

“No,” he says shaking his head with a cooler tone to his voice. Silence takes over as we both get lost in our thoughts.

“My mother,” he finally breaks the silence and empties his glass in one large gulp, “she killed herself when I was ten years old.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, feeling a pinch of regret. “Why did she do it?”

He looks confused by my question. I sigh and hold out my arm to him. There’s still a scar on my wrist. He looks torn and several emotions flicker over his usually controlled face.

He curls his fingers around my forearm, his thumb brushing along the scar that’ll always remind me of my weakest and most broken moment.

“Why?” He asks, his voice low as if he’s trying to hide his emotions.

“Pain,” I say, “unbearable pain. My twin brother was killed. A little over a year ago.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, his fingers linger a moment longer on my wrist before he lets go of me.

“I am too,” I whisper and turn my gaze to my drink. “I miss him.” I admit hesitantly, “is it getting better with time?” I ask looking up at him, but he shakes his head. “I didn’t think so,” I mumble and finish my whiskey.

*Safe to read*

He takes the glass from me and puts it down on a shiny, black coffee table. “Is that why you beat up the heavy bag?”

“Yes,” I sigh, “I am angry.”

“Did it help?”

I chuckle with no emotion and shake my head. I put my hand above my chest, “it’s suffocating. I need some sort of outlet for all that anger and I need to exhaust myself to stop thinking too much about the why’s and the what-ifs. Pathetic, huh?”

“No. Not at all,” he says with a shake of his head, “I need an outlet too.”

“Work?”

“Amongst other things,” he nods and turns his attention to our empty glasses, “I could use another,” he states.

“I’m in,” I chuckle. Watching him leave. I always thought something was weighing him down. A secret that eats away at him. Something sleeping beneath his cool, arrogant demeanor.

He lost his mom. I lost my brother. Maybe he’s not so bad after all. Despite all that, I have to remember that he’s still my boss. The boss of all bosses!

I can’t let my guard down. Not because I care about my job, but about my reputation. I don’t want to be the topic of Ambs's latest gossip. The assistant who slept with the big boss, even though that’s not true. They won’t care as long as it makes for good entertainment.

“I don’t mean to offend you, but why do you always hide your body beneath clothes like that?” He asks when he comes back with two filled glasses of his finest whiskey. One bottle is probably more expensive than everything I own combined.

I pull on my oversized sweater, “it’s my brothers,” I say with a shrug, “and I don’t feel the need to show off my body. Why are you so obsessed with dressing me up?”

“Am I?” He laughs.

“It’s in my contract!” I remind him, “buy something nice to wear, so you don’t look like trash from Brooklyn.”

“Did it sound like that to you?”

“A little.”

“I apologize. I didn’t mean to offend you and I certainly don’t think that you are trash from Brooklyn. You are by far the most intriguing person I have met in a while.”

“Oh come on, I’m not… intriguing. I am very ordinary.”

“There is nothing ordinary about you, Liah!”

I sigh, not sure if I am willing to believe his charming words. He doesn’t know me at all. I bet he thinks he does, but just because we have one thing in common doesn’t mean he knows me.

“Is that why I am here?”

“Is that what you want?”

“I told you, what I want are answers. Something you are very good at avoiding!”

“I am,” he agrees. But I refuse to let him get away with it. Not tonight. So I stare him down, giving it my best shot to intimidate him. A man that oozes power. He’s used to getting what he wants, but not with me. I won’t let him.

“I don’t know,” he says with a heavy sigh, “ I do not know what I want from you. I told you before; you are interesting and very different from anyone I know.”

“Okay,” I say hesitantly, “we should keep it at that!”

“I’m not sure I agree,” he states matter-of-factly.

“I think I’m sure about it!”

“Doesn’t sound like you are,” he takes the drink from my hand, ignoring my little protest. “I am sorry about the way I started this. In my defense, you are incredibly attractive… beneath this baggy sweater,” he adds, making me roll my eyes at his weird compliment. “You don’t see that?” He asks curiously.

“That I’m attractive beneath my baggy clothes? I don’t think I am that self-centered to spend more than a minute looking at myself in the mirror.”

“Which is exactly what makes you so beautiful.” To my great chagrin, I blush at his words. The smile on his lips tells me that he had noticed and that’s not all. He takes a step closer to me, carefully brushing my hair back, demanding my full attention.

I can’t help but let him capture me with his beautiful, stormy blue eyes. There’s a strange longing in them. Longing and loneliness. No wonder, if he lives up here in his isolated tower.

„Alex,“ I sigh as his thumb brushes over my lower lip. I can smell his expensive cologne and it’s making me a little dizzy. Or maybe it’s his proximity.

„Beautiful,“ he whispers and to my absolute horror, he leans in and kisses me. This shouldn’t be happening. He should know better!

His fingers push into my hair, his lips lingering on mine. I can’t remember the last time someone kissed me. I didn’t think about my love life at all, but now that he’s kissing me -despite who he is- I think I missed it. Missed the human touch.

I sigh against his lips, as his tongue carefully licks my upper lip, asking me to let go and melt into him. A part of me desperately wants to give in. But what’s the point? He’s Alexander Brice and I am a broken nobody.

„I can’t,“ I breathe pushing my hands against his hard chest, „we can’t,” I add with a shake of my head. That doesn’t keep me from running my palms up to his shoulders, involuntarily feeling him up.

He sighs and the blue in his eyes glazes over for a moment. He lifts his hands and takes a few steps back. I already miss his warmth. Miss his touch. Which is weird. I don’t want to miss anything he has to offer. It’s not right!

“Suit yourself,” he says as his defenses come back up. I guess he doesn’t know how to handle rejection. And I almost feel sorry for him, but I can’t let myself get distracted. I have too much on my plate right now and I can’t add an affair with my boss.

“I’m sorry, but there’s just too much at stake.”

“Like what?” He asks, his voice cold and distant, “the job you apparently don’t give a s**t about?”

“My reputation,” I say, getting angry at his tone.

“Didn’t you say you have nothing left to lose?”

I sigh, “maybe I do. I am sorry, Alex, but you have to see that this is not… I mean-,” I give up on my own argument and shake my head in defeat. “I should go,” I mumble and glance at him, but he avoids my stare, so I just head back through his amazing loft. Back to the lobby. Back home.