41. Lorelei

41

LORELEI

" O h, shit, shit, shit, shit," I chant as I jump out of bed.

I should already be at work.

With my heart racing and my hand trembling with panic, I rush around my bedroom, dragging clothes on and throwing my wild curls into a messy bun. There is no time to do anything more.

My head lightly pounds, but it's nowhere near as bad as I deserve.

Kian is going to kill me.

By some miracle, I'm out the door and racing down the stairs in twenty minutes. There is no chance I'm risking the elevator this morning. There's no time to deal with that kind of drama should something go wrong.

I burst out of the building in a rush with my Uber app searching for a car.

I should have ordered one the second I woke up, but I was too frantic to think straight.

It's still telling me that it's trying to find one when a voice hits my ears.

"Good morning, Miss Lori. Can I offer you a lift?"

"Fuck," I hiss. If Jamie is here, then Kian knows that I'm late.

Blowing out a slow breath, I walk over.

It's too late to try and cover this up now.

"Morning, Jamie. Yes, that would be fantastic, thank you."

"No problem, Miss Lori. Did you have a good night with your friend?" he asks as he opens the door for me to climb inside.

"Yes. A little too good, actually." He chuckles as I get comfortable before closing the door on me.

I sit back and wait as he pulls away from my building in the direction of Callahan Enterprises. As we get closer, the dread I felt the moment I looked at the clock only gets worse.

Sitting forward, I speak to Jamie. "Is Kian mad?"

He takes a moment as he navigates an intersection, making my nerves quadruple.

"No. Mr. Callahan might be firm, but he's also fair. Plus, he likes you, Miss Lori. He'll go easy on you."

"Does he?" I mutter under my breath.

"You've got nothing to worry about."

I sit back, wishing I felt a little more confident about what I'm going to walk into in a few minutes.

" W ould you like me to ride up in the elevator with you, Miss Lori?" Jamie asks as I stand on the sidewalk, my eyes focused on the entrance to the building I should be inside.

"N-no," I stutter, hating that I don't sound more confident.

"It would be my pleasure to escort you."

Turning to Jamie, I smile up at him sweetly.

"I really appreciate the offer, but I'm okay."

What I really need is a very strong coffee, but that's going to have to wait.

"Okay. Have a good day."

"You too," I say before taking off in the direction of the elevator.

My skin tingles as if I'm being watched, but despite what I hope is a discreet look over both my shoulders, I don't find Kian watching me. It soon becomes clear that he's also not waiting to help me into the elevator like he was yesterday.

I hate that I'm disappointed, but there's very little I can do about it.

As I ride up through the building, I focus on what I'm going to say when I get to the top and Kian demands to know why I'm so late.

I come up with a few good lies that revolve around a sudden, unexpected illness, but I figure that he'll know it's a lie the second the words leave my lips.

The only thing I can do is tell the truth.

"Ah, there you are. Kian said you were going to be delayed this morning. I hope everything is okay."

"Y-yeah, everything is great."

"Good. He asked for you to go through to his office once you arrived."

My stomach turns over, but I force a smile on my face. I don't want anyone to know that I'm apprehensive about what's to come.

"I need coffee first," I mutter, more to myself than Melissa, before I dump my stuff under my desk and rush toward the kitchen.

Unlike yesterday, I grab two mugs from the cupboard, and I pay extra special attention to ensure Kian's coffee is exactly as he likes it.

A peace offering, if you will.

"Come in," his deep voice booms the second my knuckles rap against the door.

With both mugs in one hand, I suck in a deep breath and push the door open.

His scent hits me first, and then the second I step inside, our eyes collide and I feel it like a physical blow.

"Good morning, Lorelei," he says, his voice cold and hard. "How wonderful of you to show your face."

"I'm sorry I'm late. I?—"

"Went out and got drunk on a school night," he finishes for me. "Thank you," he adds when I place his coffee before him. "Interesting that you chose to make me one this morning."

"I'm sorry, okay? I wasn't even that drunk, but I overslept and…" I trail off, hating that I'm reasoning with this jerk.

I fucked up. I know that. I don't need him making me feeling worse than I already do.

"I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

Assuming he wants me for more than to make me feel about a foot tall for my poor decision-making, I lower my ass to the chair.

He watches me silently as I sit bolt upright, waiting for him to say whatever it is he's holding back.

The air between us crackles, and it only takes me a few more seconds to recognize that there's something different about him.

He's not had a haircut or anything like that. It's nothing physical. But there's something in his eyes that I'm not sure I've seen before.

It's dangerous. Hot. And damn if it doesn't make my thighs clench.

Memories of my moment of weakness last night come back to me and my temperature soars.

Shut it down, Lorelei.

He isn't even that hot.

Fuck. He really is.

"Okay, shall we get to it?" he finally says, snapping out of whatever was keeping him silent.

His eyes drop to the desk. "What? No notebook today?" he asks, quirking a brow.

"Not this morning. What did you want to discuss, sir?" I ask, pushing everything else aside and focusing on work. It's much safer that way.

He talks me through another spreadsheet he's created. Pride oozes from him as it works seamlessly, calculating profit and loss over the various decisions of the company.

It's impressive. Not that I'm going to tell him that. His ego is already big enough.

After explaining it all, he describes exactly what he would like me to do with all the data—in great detail—before finally dismissing me from his office.

"Lorelei," he growls before I'm able to slip away.

"Yes, Sir?"

"I expect this on my desk by the end of the day. No excuses."

My lips part to bark back a reply about my previous performance with hitting deadlines, but I manage to bite it back before it floats free.

I've already been late. I think that's probably enough for the day.

In a rush, and determined to knock him on his ass with the report I'm going to pull together, I finally take a seat behind my desk and set to work.

It's long after lunchtime when I come up for air.

In desperate need for something to eat, I save my document and slide my iPad into my purse with the intention of reading through what I've done so far.

I'm waiting for the elevator to hit the top floor when his footsteps echo down the hallway.

My teeth grind as he steps up behind me.

He doesn't say a word. He doesn't need to. His presence alone is oppressive enough.

When the doors open and I step inside, he follows.

The second we're trapped, the tension amps up.

I thought I was on edge in his office earlier, but it was nothing compared to this.

Not a word is spoken, and he doesn't make a move to touch me, but it doesn't matter. My body is on full alert. My skin is tingling, and my blood is burning.

Something has shifted with him. But I've no idea what it is.

The moment I can escape, I dash from the elevator and toward the doors that will grant me some freedom.

"Good afternoon," Kian says behind me as I assume he greets the doormen I grinned at as I ran past them.

I take off in the direction of the closest coffee shop in the hope that he will let me go.

Wishful thinking.

"Where are we going?" Kian rasps beside me.

"I've no idea where you're going, but I'm going for a sandwich and some peace."

"Sounds perfect."

"It wasn't an invitation," I hiss quietly.

"I don't need an invitation, Lorelei."

"Oh yeah, how could I forget? You do what you want."

I don't need to look over to know he's smirking.

With a sigh, I keep walking with my head held high.

He wants to follow me. Fine. But I will not give him the satisfaction of unnerving me.

He does not hold that kind of power over me.

My stomach growls loudly the second I see the coffee shop up ahead.

I join the line to order and he falls into place behind me.

Thankfully, the line moves fast, and in only a few minutes, I'm sitting at a small table at the back.

With my food and drink on one side and my iPad propped up on the other, I set about the task at hand.

I read a paragraph and swallow one mouthful before a shadow looms over me.

My stomach knots and my heart rate increases, but I don't look up.

His glare burns into the top of my head as I keep my eyes locked on the screen.

"Lorelei," he warns.

I let out a frustrated sigh before finally glancing up, making sure my face shows just how irritated I am by his mere presence.

"Can I help you, sir?"

"Can I sit?"

I look at the other chair around the small round table and then back up at him.

"I don't think there's enough space. That table over there is free," I say, jerking my chin in the direction of a recently vacated table currently covered in trash.

His jaw pops in irritation, but to my surprise, he spins around and marches in that direction.

Internally, I do a little celebratory dance. Who knew it would be so easy to get rid of him?

My eyes widen when he shoves the trash from the table, places his lunch on top of it and then picks the entire thing up and carries it back over.

"What the hell are you doing?" I shriek as he lowers his newly accosted table next to mine.

Shrugging off his jacket, he drapes it on the back of the chair and lowers his ass to the seat.

"Close your mouth, Lorelei. You don't make a good guppy."

Anger surges through me.

"I'm trying to have a quiet lunch. Alone," I warn, aware that we've caught the attention of a few fellow diners.

"And I'm having lunch with my girlfriend," he states as if he truly believes the words.

My chin drops again at his audacity. But while my anger only increases, he smirks at me like he's won something.

"That's not…we're not…" If possible, the amusement only grows. "You're infuriating."

"So you've mentioned before," he says before biting into his sandwich.

I drag my eyes away from him and back to my screen, but I can no longer focus, and I end up reading the same sentence four times over.

Kian is focused on his cell and thankfully ignores my ridiculous attempt to continue working.

Giving up, I reach into my purse and pull my own cell out.

I've got a handful of email notifications, a stream of notifications from my group chat with my brothers, which reveals the usual—them trying to get the other in trouble—and a message from Tate.

I giggle at the meme she's sent, causing Kian to look up. His attention makes my face heat, but I don't let him know that I'm aware of him.

It's the first time I've looked at my messages all day. It occurs to me that I never received a reply from Ryder after I sent the photo last night.

Tapping out of Tate's message, I scan down my inbox, wondering why.

My eyes drop, and then so does my heart when I find that my thread with Kian is above Ryder's.

No. That can't be right. My heart races and my temperature soars to dangerous levels as reality dawns.

Oh my god.

Oh my god.

Tell me I didn't. Please, for the love of God, tell me that I didn't…

Fuck. My. Life.

My stomach rolls, and I press my hand to it.

I'm going to be sick.

With my cell gripped tightly in my hand, I jump up from my seat and race to the bathroom.

He calls my name in concern, but I don't dare look back.

I can't.

How the hell am I ever going to look him in the eyes again?

I sent my boss a picture of my boobs.

I sent my boss a picture of my fucking boobs.