Chapter 3 - Tia

I follow Yefim into his office, wondering what the hell I'm doing. Maybe I should have just said I'd finish it by coming in early on Monday instead. I know they wouldn't let me take files home as an intern, but I think coming in early would have been better than ending up in the boss's office on a Friday night.

I'm so nervous my hands are sweaty.

He holds the door open, then closes it behind himself once he is inside.

I swallow hard as he begins to close the blinds of his office windows as well.

He kind of waves his hand around the office as he speaks.

"You can sit anywhere you like. The chair there opposite mine at my desk is fine, or the couch there if you want to work at the coffee table or on your lap."

"Thanks," I say, glancing between the options. I can't really work at the coffee table with the binder and my laptop, it would be too awkward, so I opt for his desk even though that means sitting really close to him.

Oh my word. Is it too late to go home? I think it is. Am I even going to manage to get this done with him watching me like that the entire time?

He keeps staring. I don't know why, but it's making me even more nervous.

I glance up at him and our eyes catch, locking in a very intense moment.

Wow.

His eyes are ice blue. They remind me of photos of the beaches in Iceland, giant blocks of ice wash ashore and the sun piercing through them, making them glow. His eyes look just like that.

A bit cold, piercing, and so intense that I can't look away.

Yefim looks away first and I'm grateful for that.

I could have stared at his face for hours. He's the most gorgeous man I've ever seen. It's late, and he has a dark shadow of stubble across his jaw. It suits him.

That, with his dark brown hair, bright blue eyes and that broad mouth—

Fuck.

Concentrate. You have to get this done. This is why you are in this weird situation, to begin with.

But why does he keep watching me?

Is he trying to decide if I'm useful to the company? Trying to gauge my work ethic or skills?

Dammit, he's so intimidating, I kind of want to hide under the desk just to pull my thoughts together. He makes me so nervous, watching me constantly.

Yefim shifts in his seat so that his body is turned away from me. I wonder if I am annoying him. Is that why he's constantly staring? That would be bad. I can't be annoying the boss during my first week on the job. That's not the impression I want to make.

He's quiet for a while, then staring at me again, followed by a really heavy sigh. I start to get more nervous. It's weird—I don't get the feeling that I am annoying him, but I must be for him to be sighing like that.

"Am I bothering you?" I ask nervously. Maybe I should make some excuse and try to leave.

"Oh, no, it's just—work stuff."

He dismisses my concern with the wave of his hand, and I notice how the muscles of his forearm flex when he moves.

My eyes trace over his white shirt, his pecs, pushing up against the soft fabric.

Shit. He works out. A lot. He definitely takes care of himself. He really is an inspiration. Working hard, doing well in life and still finding the time to stay as fit as he looks.

I sigh softly and bite at my lip.

Okay. Focus. Get your work done.

Yefim chuckles, and I can't help myself. I start grinning.

I have no idea what is going on between us, but there is something happening.

It's amusing and confusing at the same time.

I feel like I'm in high school, stealing glances at the hot popular boy. Except this isn't a boy. This is a man.

***

It takes me much longer to finish the spreadsheet than I had estimated, but I did make that estimation before I knew I was going to be distracted by my hot boss while I was trying to complete the task.

Finally, I save the file, send a copy to Samantha and Eric, and close my laptop.

"Are you done?" Yefim asks, stretching as he leans back in his chair.

"Yes, thank you for letting me stay late."

"It's nine-thirty. Come on, let me drive you home." He stands up, pulling his jacket off the back of his chair.

"Oh, no, I can't do that. I'll catch the train. Really. It's no problem."

"I'm not too happy about you being on the train at this time of night alone."

"I won't be alone. It's Friday night. Lots of people will be around."

He eyes me up and down and I can see he's not happy about it, but at the same time, he doesn't know me well enough to be pushy.

I would accept a ride with him if I wasn't so nervous around him. It's been awkward enough sitting at his desk—it'll be even worse in the small space of a car.

No, I'll catch the train. It's a block's walk from this building, and this isn't exactly a dodgy part of town or anything. I'll be fine.

Yefim insists on walking me out of the building, asking me again in the parking lot if he can take me home, and I decline again.

Then, I quickly walk away before it can get any weirder.

But as soon as I turn my back on him, I have this stupid grin on my face.

I really enjoyed talking to him, even if we didn't actually say much.

There is something about him that I like.

I'm just—I'm not very good at letting people do things for me. I always think they want something in return. It's one of the reasons I've stayed so independent my whole life, so that I didn't have to owe anyone anything. And look where that got me.

I owe some very dangerous men a lot of money, thanks to my mother.

***

Early on Saturday morning, after a couple of hours of studying before the sun comes up, I head out to fetch a couple of the dogs I walk around the neighborhood. I like this extra little job because I sit down so much when I study, edit, and at my desk at the office—at least this one allows me to move around and get some fresh air.

The city is buzzing with energy and people and I feel a sort of longing to be out here enjoying the day instead of stuck in my apartment working. But, as always, when I get this feeling, I just remind myself that I am working towards something.

The harder I work, the sooner I get there.

I walk the dogs a little extra, for me as much as for them, then head back home after dropping them all off.

The weekend disappears in pages of study notes and editing, and when my alarm goes off on Monday morning it feels like there never even was a weekend at all.

But now I get to go to work and see my boss again.

I won't lie, I think I have a little crush on him. It's just how hot he is. A silly crush. That's all.

I head into the office and glance up towards his window. I can see him sitting at his desk.

Monday goes by pretty smoothly. I've managed to impress my manager with the work I handed in on Friday, which makes me happy. They have given me two new projects to work on, and I am going to go out of my way to impress them with these as well.

***

At lunch, I am sitting at my desk while everyone else is out having coffee.

One of the other interns comes over to me.

"Tia, there's a man here asking for you," she says with a smile. "He's outside in the parking lot."

"Oh, I'll go and see who it is now. Did he tell you his name?"

"He said he was a friend of your mother's. That's all."

Shit.

How did they find out I work here?

My cheeks flush with embarrassment as I hurry outside to go and try get the debt collector to not show up at my workplace.

I rush out to the parking lot, looking around to see who is watching me. There's a group of my colleagues having a smoke break near the bench in the little garden, but no one seems to be paying attention to me.

"What are you doing here? I work here, you can't be showing up here like this," I say with anguish.

"Actually, Miss Lawrence, I think you'll find that we can do whatever the fuck we want. Now, where is the money you owe us?"

"I just got this job, I'm doing my best."

"We agreed to a payment plan only because it wasn't initially your debt, but trust me when I say that the bosses won't hesitate to start taking fingers if you are late again. You're two weeks past your due. We want it by Wednesday, or I'll come inside the building next time."

My eyes grow wide with horror. "No, please don't do that. Please. I'll get you the money, I promise."

The debt collector chuckles, a nasty, cold laugh that sends horrible shivers through my body. I don't doubt they'll start taking fingers—that's why I would never personally take a loan from a person like this. But I guess my mother, drunk and useless and wanting to feed her gambling addiction, wasn't really one to consider the consequences. And now I am the one who is stuck with those consequences.

The guy turns and walks away, and I have to hold my breath to avoid sighing in relief too loudly. I don't want him to hear that. I don't want them to know just how stressed I am to have them coming to my new place of work.

I can't lose this job—I need it so badly.

I hurry back inside, straight to my desk.

Glancing up at the big windows of Yefim's office, I see him standing there looking down at me. Hopefully, he was in the office the entire time and thinks I just went out for a coffee break.

***

I've upped my hours for dog walking and editing as much as I can. I study at night when I should be sleeping and then work all day at my internship.

I can feel the tiredness soaking through my body.

I managed to make the late payment, but now I have another payment due in only a week and a half. I'm screwed. They are draining the life out of me, and I just don't see any way out of this.

I can't even afford my rent at this pace, and I'm going to lose my home.

It's just a never-ending battle, and I'm exhausted and stressed and miserable.

The only thing that brings me some kind of relief or joy is when I get to speak to Yefim.

Twice this week I've stayed late, and he's invited me to work in his office.

He's warmed to me and doesn't have that severe look on his face anymore. He seems to be smiling more, and even though I'm not supposed to be here after hours, he is letting me stay as long as I work in here, not down on the ground floor. I don't really know what difference it makes, but I do like the company.

It's Friday again, and I actually finished what I needed to do about fifteen minutes ago, but I'm pretending to still be working because I just want to spend a little more time near him.

He's been chatting about how well I'm doing at work and telling me that managers are impressed with what I'm handing in.

At least that's one relief. I'm doing well at something.

I've been so tired I've been making mistakes with the editing lately and I got a warning from the magazine.

"Why aren't you out, seeing as it's Friday?" he asks, leaning back in his chair.

"I don't really go out drinking. I'm so tired by the time I get home and finish a few hours of studying that I end up just going to bed."

"You're still going to study when you get home?"

"I have to. During the week—not Fridays, though—I also walk dogs and do after-hours editing."

"Why are you working so much? Don't you want to enjoy some free time?"

I chuckle. I have no idea what free time is anymore.

"I would love some free time, but I also want to do well in life, and that takes effort." I shrug, not wanting to explain that I have massive debts I've inherited from my mother.

He smiles and shakes his head.

"You are an impressive woman, Tia. There are not a lot of people out there like you."

A small grin paints across my lips and my cheeks tint light rose.

I glance up at him and see the dimples on his cheeks that appear when he smiles broadly like that. His blue eyes are locked onto mine. My heart skips a beat under his stare. Moments like these—I appreciate them. The small things that keep me going.

He seems like such a good man. His magnetism draws me in more than I ever could have expected, and I feel oddly close to him, even though I've only known him such a short time.