Page 55 of Darkest Deception

“How … has Ambrose been?”

I still, the sight in front of me disappearing for a second as the image of Ambrose and her bare face appears in front of me.

Wet hair, vulnerable, soft, fragile.

All these words I thought weren’t made for her, but the episode in the elevator today has me a little conflicted.

“She’s fine, the same firecracker she is. Always fighting tooth and nail against everything I throw her way.”

Aurora chuckles. “She’s always been like that, never one to lose. I’m glad. I hope she forgives herself one day.”

“For what she did in her past? Highly unlikely,” I comment.

Aurora is silent for a second. “You know?” Her voice is a soft whisper, as if she doesn’t want anyone else to know. Remo knows, too, so she doesn’t really need to hide it.

“Of course I know. Remo asked me to look after her when the news about the company hit the media in case she tried to make any false accusations or even build a case against us. I do research on my clients very well, Aurora.”

There is another pause.

“Does she know that you know? That you are aware, and the dislike you have for her is because of it?”

“No.”

Aurora sucks in a sharp breath, as if I admitted I killed someone, which isn’t really far from the truth.

“Tell her. Please tell her.”

I frown.

Aurora doesn’t elaborate on the topic. “Do you have time to come over to the office? I have some new pieces. I’d like them to be featured in Glamorous if you like them.”

That night, I watched Ambrose lay out a yoga mat and sit on it. She stretches, does stupid yoga poses, and then waters her plants in the same routine. And I keep watching, knowing she called our kiss a mistake and said to never let it happen again.

What will she say if she heard what I am thinking?

For the first time, I come early in the morning, too. I watch her pick out an outfit, but then she shakes her head and takes another one. She grabs one last one and then nods before going into her closet to change.

When I get home to change, I blindly pick the same colours. I don’t want to match with her, no. I hate her too much for that.

I only pick it because I like green.

When she meets me in the hallway at the office, she looks at my deep green suit with the white dress shirt beneath, then glances down at her own green suit and white shirt and shakes her head. We turn and head to the scheduled meeting, and I can’t help but steal glimpses at her. I catch other staff in the room noticing too.

She keeps glaring at them, and they look away, but it’s obvious that they can’t help their curiosity at the fact that we are matching.

I can’t keep my smile in, so I let it slip free the minute I enter my office.

Running a hand down my face, I grin at the humour of the situation.

The day passes until lunch rolls around and I can’t help myself.

“Ambrose?” I call her out, standing at the threshold of her office.

She looks up from her laptop, still in her office, regardless that it’s lunchtime right now.

I am hit with a second of breathlessness when her eyes meet mine. She hasn’t tried to avoid me today. In fact, she’s acting like nothing happened. Fuck that.

I have proof that she didn’t want to let go, and the tingling in my lips won’t stop.

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