Zayden
Zayden Sinclair
Chairman and CEO
South National Bank
I wondered what he had in mind for today. He hadn’t mentioned anything about going out, and seemed perfectly comfortable lying on his office couch typing intently on his MacBook. Yep, we definitely weren’t going anywhere. Just as well, I could ask him questions for my Econ paper on progressive taxation. There was nothing else I could think of for us to do within the premises of this bank except that, because that was just not happening.
When everybody else cleared out, I wasn’t sure whether to walk over to him or wait for him to summon me; he seemed occupied by whatever was on his computer. Maybe he wouldn’t even notice if I quietly snuck out. I did have tons of homework to get to. I tentatively started packing up but the phone rang.
“Who said you could leave?” He was staring at me. “You signed a contract.”
“You seemed busy and I wasn’t sure if you wanted to be left alone.”
“If I wanted you to leave me alone, you would know, Aria.” With just that much, he hung up the phone and went back to typing vigorously on his laptop. What the hell was I supposed to do just sitting here? I pulled out my phone and started texting Stacey.
“It’s weird as fuck. he’s just sitting there doing work but I’m not allowed to leave.”
Stacey wrote back immediately.
“Ask him if he needs anything. Offer to make him some coffee.”
“And set feminism back a few decades?”
“It’s just a nice gesture, nothing to do with you being a woman. He’s helping you out, be nice.”
“Fine. Whatever.”
I c
alled him back. “Would you like some coffee?”
“Not if it is to be delivered with your clothes on.” A grin formed on his face. I rolled my eyes. “Come on, I’m just teasing. Easy on the eye roll.”
“You can see that?” I rolled them again involuntarily.
“And that. I’m good with the coffee, but thank you. Dinner should be arriving soon. I’ll get off my computer when it does, I promise.”
“What? Dinner?”
“Yep, it’s a particular kind of meal, usually served in the evenings, usually the last meal of the day.”
“You think you are so funny, don’t you? I didn’t know we would be having dinner.”
“Well, you do now. Tonight and every other night until I say otherwise, you’ll be having dinner with me at the office.”
“Will I ever get to choose what I want to eat or will you always be doing it on my behalf?” I regretted saying that immediately. I was kind of being a bitch, but the best part about takeout is deciding what to eat.
He looked a little wounded by that. “Well, I will just email you Sean’s number and you can tell him what you would like from tomorrow onwards.”
“What are you even talking about?”
“Sean’s my chef. He does international gourmet meals.”
“Oh,” I said feeling stupid. “Of course.”
Why would we be getting takeout when he had an international gourmet chef at his fingertips? For some reason, the notion made me feel extremely uncomfortable, and a little irrationally angry. I hung up, looked away from Zayden and took a deep breath. I wasn’t sure why I was so on edge. Perhaps because I had been hanging out around the office after a long day of work to entertain him, while he pretty much ignored me for most of the night thus far. What was he even trying to accomplish?