Chapter 8

• Damon clenched his jaw. "I asked you a simple question, Mia. Who were you sending those pictures?"
• Mia shivered at the tone, her spine chilling at the way his voice drawled. There was a hidden tone of possessiveness behind that, or atleast she could detect it. She couldn't help but twist her lips in between her teeth, her cheeks heating up. How should she answer that question?
• Then again, it's none of his business. He had no control over her life outside the business, so she met his eyes, gaze hardened. "I don't think it's related to my job, sir."
• "It's not, but I just want you to know I don't share."
• Her mouth fell open at that. What did he mean by that? Before she could question him about it, Damon made a sound and shook his head. As if he also realised how ridiculous that statement sounded.
• "I'm getting late for my meeting" He huffed and dashed out of his office.
• Mia gawked at her boss retreating, her lips folded. The twenty-five-year-old was unable to grasp the meaning behind his words. She should talk to Jane about it; maybe her best friend will have to say something about it.
• ***
• After that strange incident, she didn't see Damon all day. According to his schedule, he had no meeting after lunchtime, which would leave him be in the office but her boss left. Mia wanted to corner him, ask him why he said what he said, but she never got the opportunity. She went back home, as confused as ever.
• ***
• The next morning Mia woke up disoriented and confused. Her phone was vibrating like crazy on her nightstand, stopping only after she blearily picked it up and turned off almost immediately. A glance at the clock told her that it's well after eight in the morning, so the call must be important. No one would call her this early without having a reason.
• Taking a moment to gather her bearings, she managed to pull her body out of the sheets, her eyes barely adjusting to the bright room and rested against the headboard. Immediately, Mia was flooded with the light of her screen and the slew of notifications that were making her phone angry.
• 5 missed calls
• Four new messages
• Every single one of them from her boss. She gulped at that. Fuck! She's late to her work!
• Damon simply didn't call without any reason. Her heart stopped in her chest.
• Mia immediately got up and hurried to the office, and she's completely on edge. She was aware how late she was with the schedule, and Mia knew how harshly Damons going to ream her out this morning. It's all she can think about. Her entire body was stacked with fear of whatever punishment Damon would give her for being so completely late on the deadline.
• He'll probably fire her.
• And her boss has probable cause to do so. It was only a week ago that Mia was in this very office, being told that her insufficiency to meet deadlines was unacceptable. Instead of taking those notes and improving her skills, what does Mia do? That's right; she completed her task even later than usual.
• At this point, if Damon came into the office, guns blazing, with her name on it, there wouldn't be any surprise. For anybody.
• As expected, Damon came into the room loudly, jolting her out of her thoughts.
• He completely ignored her for a few minutes, where he's standing in front of the desk. Damon doesn't open any of the files or even so much as glance at his schedule for the day. What was he thinking? She tried to figure out just by judging at the blank stare on his face.
• "Follow me with your laptop Miss Grace" He cleared his throat.
• She breathed in deeply and then pushed the door open, peeking her head inside. "Uhm, you wanted to see me, sir?"
• Damon raised his head as he plopped on his chair, an unreadable look in his eyes. "Yes, come in. Please shut the door behind you." He ordered, and so she did.
• "Sit down," He bit immediately.
• Mia fell into the chair behind her on reflex and was forced to watch listlessly as Damon walked around the desk, snatching the laptop from her hand and turning it on.
• "Sir - "
• "Tell me about what you did this weekend, Miss Grace?"
• Her mouth immediately snapped shut. She knew this was coming, expected it, but seeing him so close up, displaying an emotion that she couldn't even identify - it's all so terrifying.
• "I, uh," Mia stuttered, suddenly her throat dry and lips parted, but Damon didn't budge. Her boss did not attempt to jump in to interrupt her or make a move to answer his question. He's staying silent, and she didn't know what to think of it. "I was working on the presentation..."
• Damon laughed humourlessly, a cynical edge taking over his features. "Oh, were you? I would love to see it. And why are you late again today?"
• "Umm...I fell asleep, sir," She answered. And Mia was avoiding eye contact, too afraid that when she'll look up, her boss will be ready to fire her on the spot. "I woke up to your messages and got here as soon as I can."
• Damon hummed from where he stood above her, and there's slight relief from the intensity of his presence when he walked back around the desk. "Well, I hope you did finish some of that presentation I asked you to."
• Mia wanted to cry. And scream. She's been so self-involved and overthinking that she barely remembered to focus on the presentation.
• She finally looked up at that, and she's sure her face conveyed all of the inner turmoil she's feeling. Her boss, on the other hand, didn't look to be joking, but she figured he has to be.
• "Miss Grace, why don't you show me how far along are you with your presentation?"
• Mia was standing before the words really even hit her. Her boss eyes were hard, and her mind was racing with questions, but she found her feet moving to do as Damon instructed.
• Without looking into his eyes, she placed a copy of the presentation in front of him on the table.
• "May I start?"
• Her boss didn't answer, just stared at her posture, which was trying to show courage, which would be a lot easier if he wasn't so handsome. Instead of saying something, he gestured towards the papers, asking her to continue.
• Mia cleared her throat and started the presentation. As she went through the various aspects of the proposal, he remained silent, staring at his copy of the text. Why was he so calm?
• "Their schedule for the first result is a little ambi..." She stopped in the middle of the sentence, with the air stuck in her throat at his intense gaze.
• The heat from his stare burned through her skin. Every muscle in her body tensed, and she felt like her insides were melting. What the hell was he doing? Mia's brain screamed for her to look away and not think about the way he's gazing at her. Unfortunately, her body had other ideas. Her nipples hardened, and she pressed her chin in response - other things were starting to harden too. As her heart pounded in her chest, at least half a minute passed, and neither of them said anything when Damon moved his chair closer in pretence to stare at the screen.
• Their breaths and the muffled sounds of the city below were the only sounds that hung in the air of the conference room.
• "Look at me, Miss Grace." His calm voice broke the silence, and she straightened her back, eyes glued to his chest.
• Slowly, she tilted her head, swallowing the lump in her throat as their eyes clashed. Mia couldn't help but imagine what would it be like, having him reach out, touch the length of her back with his fingertips until he pressed his thumb against the soft skin of her hips.
• Her chest rose and fell at that. Each breath was deeper and heavier than the last. A muscle trembled when she felt his breath against the side of her face. Damon was uncharacteristically quiet as if he was waiting for her to interrupt him. She had a lot of time to push him away or even turn around and leave. But there were a lot of sensations inside her that she needed to process before Mia could react.
• Mia never imagined that one day she would feel those urges for him. Mia wanted to slap him in the face most of the times but then got this sudden urge to press her lips against his.
• "What are you thinking?" Her boss whispered, his eyes mocking and, at the same time, showing enormous anxiety.
• "I'm still trying to find out." It was the only answer she managed to give him.
• ***