Chapter 8

• Annalisa woke up earlier that morning to make it to the coffee shop and to work on time. She wouldn't let herself be blindsided again and be late for a job she really wanted and needed. Her boss probably already thought that she was clumsy and that she lied about her work ethic, so she was on the path to redemption and was proud of the fact that she was actually ten minutes early.
• She even made it a point to chat with Layla at the front desk before making her way up to the intense man at the top of his ivory--more like ebony--tower.
• "Good Morning, Layla," she greeted cheerfully. She was in a good mood and felt like nothing could bring her down.
• "Morning," Layla responded, giving her a once-over.
• She thought she caught a nasty look on the woman's face but didn't even know Layla well enough to understand why she would dislike her. She hadn't even spoken more than a handful of words to her.
• Layla leaned forward and balanced her head on her clasped fingers, "So Ann, I've seen that you've met John a few times. Isn't he cute?"
• "John?" she asked, a little confused as to where the subject of him came from. She hadn't really even thought of him, not with Dylan occupying almost all of her waking thoughts.
• Of course, John was cute... he was more than cute, he was hot, but Dylan was on a whole other level. He'd probably never even give her the time of day outside of work, though...
• "Yeah, and I think I've heard him talking about you...like in a good way," Layla wiggled her eyebrows and grinned.
• "Oh, really?" she asked, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks, "You think he likes me?"
• Layla straightened up and then looked down at her phone, "There's only one way to find out."
• John walked into the building holding a drink carrier with two cups of coffee, "Hey, Ann! Did you have coffee this morning?"
• She turned to look at Layla and she looked up, raising her eyebrows and then cutting her eyes to him.
• She turned back to John, "I actually haven't. Why do you ask?"
• He handed her the coffee in the see-through cup with whipped cream on top which she could only assume was, "-I got you a caramel frappe. I'm pretty sure most girls like caramel. I was going on blind faith," he admitted with a shy smile as he handed her the cup.
• Annalisa smiled because that's exactly what she usually ordered, "This is perfect."
• They started walking and then he chimed in while summoning the elevator, "So, how have you been liking the job so far?"
• She took a sip of her coffee and lied--sort of, "Great, it's been great."
• Luckily, the elevator arrived and they stepped in before he got a chance to look at her face to tell if she was lying or not.
• "And Mr. Silverstone, how's he treating you?"
• "Oh, we don't speak much," she stated as she watched John press their numbered buttons, "Or at least we didn't yesterday," she shrugged.
• She contemplated asking him to go to lunch with her. Girls do that sort of thing now, right? It's the 21st century, girls can do almost anything.
• So she took a deep breath before gathering her courage, "Hey, John? Uh, would you be interested in grabbing lunch with me today?"
• He whipped his head to the side so fast she was sure he had to have hurt himself but he replied, "Really? I mean, sure. I'd love to have lunch. Today?"
• She chuckled, "Yes, today and yes, really. Why do you ask?"
• He raised his eyebrows, "Well, because I would think you would rather go with-," the elevator chimed before he could finish so he stepped out and said, "Nevermind, I'll meet you in the lobby at 12."
• "See you then," she said and they smiled at each other as the doors closed.
• She wondered who he thought she would've rather gone with as she finally made it to the office before walking to her desk.
• But today, instead of her usual uncluttered desk, there was quite a large stack of papers on it.
• "Good morning, Annalisa. I need all the information on your desk entered into the system. Try to complete as much as you can before lunch, as we have an important business appointment scheduled then, and you will be attending," Dylan instructed, his attention focused on his paperwork.
• "But...Sir, I had already made lunch plans with someone," she responded, a hint of nervousness in her voice.
• He looked up from his documents, his eyebrows arching in surprise. His gaze swept over her, reminiscent of their interview day.
• She was confident he'd appreciate her outfit choice - a form-fitting beige pullover paired with a dark navy pencil skirt and red open-toe heels. The ensemble accentuated her figure, much like the outfit she'd worn for the interview. She was certain he found it appealing.
• 'He can't seem to look away.'
• "Well, you'll just have to cancel then, won't you," he stated, a sigh accompanying his raised eyebrow.
• Resigned, she sat at her desk and powered on her computer, "Yes, of course, Sir."
• He cleared his throat, "Who, uh... who were you planning to have lunch with?"
• 'Is that a hint of curiosity I detect?'
• She glanced at him, her brows furrowing slightly, "Oh, um, I invited John from the 12th floor."
• "John...," He exhaled deeply, running a hand through his hair, "...huh. Well, get to work, please."
• It couldn't be jealousy. Dylan barely knew her, and she was his subordinate.
• "Oh!"
• She quickly grabbed the warm cup she had placed on her desk along with the white paper bag filled with muffins and walked over to Dylan's desk.
• "I almost forgot these," she said, placing his coffee cup down and pulling out a large chocolate muffin from the bag.
• As she leaned forward to place the muffin on a napkin, she was acutely aware that her shirt was revealing a hint of her black lace push-up bra. She was also aware that his gaze was fixed on her cleavage. She had worn her best bra for a reason.
• She straightened up and pushed her hair back, "Where will the business lunch be held today?"
• His gaze shifted to the papers on his desk, "At a fancy restaurant in town. This client is important, so we aim to impress."
• She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and adopted her most submissive tone, "Do you think my outfit is suitable... for the restaurant, Sir? Or is it not professional enough?"
• He coughed into his fist, "No, Annalisa, your outfit is... fine."
• "Okay, Dylan. Thank you for your input," she responded sweetly before spinning on her heels and sashaying back to her desk.
• The knowledge that Dylan's eyes were on her as she exaggerated the sway of her hips brought a smirk to her face.
• When she returned to her desk, she peeked through her hair just in time to see him divert his gaze back to his papers.
• 'He is so yours. Forget about John. You need a man, and you need that man."
• Yes, she certainly does.