“Are you okay?” he asks, his eyes sparkling. “You’re looking a bit pale.”
“I’m fine,” I say, forcing a smile.
I watch the levels as they slowly go up, one by one. It pauses on level three for what feels like forever, before we finally reach our floor. I shift impatiently, waiting for the doors to open, but they don’t. After a while, I start to panic, resisting the urge to step forward and start banging the shit out of the buttons to get this thing moving again.
“For some reason, this particular elevator always seems to pause on level four for ages before the doors open,” Chase muses. “Have you noticed that?”
“I'm certainly noticing it now,” I mutter, my heart skipping a beat. “You’d think management might look into something like that if they were aware of it,” I snap.
God, I’m beginning to sweat. I swallow, trying to loosen my collar.
He chuckles, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “You’re right. Management here really sucks, huh? You’re quite high strung when you’re stressed, Alana. Have you have ever thought of doing something to help you relax?”
My head jerks around, and I flush, wondering what that’s supposed to mean.
“What exactly are you suggesting?” I growl.
He shrugs, that sexy smirk never leaving his lips. “I don’t know. Like meditation…or something,” he says.
I scoff. The look in his eyes tells me he means anything but meditation.
“Thanks, but I’m not really into that new age crap,” I retort, glancing at the door.
“Then what are you into, Alana?” he asks. “Do you prefer to employ more proven strategies for relaxation?”
I’m starting to feel sick, but I manage to glare at him as I try and think of a witty response. I panic when one doesn’t come, but I'm saved by the doors finally deciding to open. With a great big sigh of relief, I practically fall out of the elevator and onto my knees. He walks around me slowly, so he’s standing in front of me. I get to my feet, not daring to look him in the eye.
“I'm late for work,” I mumble, before making my escape.
“You do realize that I'm your boss?” he calls out to me as I bolt down the hallway. “I don't think it counts as being late for work when you’re late because you're talking to me.”
I ignore him, even though he makes an excellent point and stumble into my office. I slam the door shut behind me, my heart racing. Peyton looks up from her computer with a frown.
“Are you okay?” she asks. I glance over to where Jade sits at her desk and nod.
“Fine,” I mumble.
I’m feeling anything but fine, but I don’t want to air my problems in front of Jade. I drag my chair forward and focus on the stack of files that Jade has generously dumped on my desk.
I struggle to focus at first, but it isn’t long before I’m distracted away from my issues by mergers and reports that need updating in the system. I’m so lost in my own little world that I don’t even notice when Chase walks in, until he’s standing in front of my desk, staring down at me.
“I need to borrow Alana for the day,” he announces to Jade, his eyes on me.
“What?” I squeak. My eyes widen almost as far as Jade’s.
He nods briskly. “I have to go and iron out some issues with the Phillip Trung merger, and I need someone there to take notes for me.”
Probably because he never got his pen license. I stifle a laugh.
“Peyton is faster at writing shorthand than her.” Jade frowns.
“That’s wonderful, but I’ve requested Alana.” Chase frowns at Jade. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“No,” she replies, her voice soft.
I sit there, expecting him to say something else, when it becomes obvious he’s waiting for me. I jump up, gather my things together and toss them in my bag. My heart pounds as I follow him out the door. I don’t even trust myself to look at Peyton, who I can feel staring at me. Mainly because I don’t trust her not to give me a high five or something equally as obvious.
The ride down in the elevator to the basement is quiet. He's busy reading something on his phone, and I'm doing my best to pretend I’m immersed in something myself. In reality, all I'm doing is staring at the blank screen on my phone, praying that A, I don’t make an idiot of myself, and B, the elevator doesn’t stop randomly again. I breathe out when the doors slide open and reveal the basement.
I follow him over to his car. It looks expensive, but it's not as flashy as I was expecting. He clicks a button on his keys and unlocks the door, starting the ignition before we’re even in it. Mildly impressed, I open the passenger side and slide inside, clicking my seat belt into place. I clasp my hands in my lap, my nerves kicking up a gear at the idea of being in the same car as him. I have no idea what to say, so I stare out the window, my body tensing as he slides in beside me.