Page 19 of Secret Twins for the Orc

“You told me to let you know when I was leaving the office, that I wasn’t to just head out ‘willy nilly’ without warning you!”

That was last Wednesday, and I’d gotten nothing more than a sigh and a dismissive flick of his wrist in response.

The next day had been even more annoying, when I’d walked into Rhokar’s office just as he was on speaker with the receptionist downstairs.

“Your coffee order has arrived, Mr. Strongarm.”

“Good. Miss Davis will grab it for me.”

And then he’d looked up at me, jerked his chin towards the elevator, and didn’t acknowledge me again until I’d fetched it for him.

He’d been like that all last week, and I was sure that I’d been right during my conversation with Grace, and that she needed her hopes for my imaginary future that she’d concocted to be dashed—swiftly and violently.

He barely crosses my path these days, but every time he does, even for the briefest of moments, it’s like he absolutely has to go and make me angry. As if he can’t bear to allow my brain a time-out from being annoyed at him.

“An orangeshirt? Really? This is an office, not a circus.”

“My employees don’t arrive five minutes late, Miss Davis. Watch yourself.”

“Why are you here so early? You don’t get paid extra for eagerness.”

“Go and have lunch, I can’t trust you on an empty stomach.”

Flirting, my ass! Grace needs a hard reality check, and when I called her again this last weekend that just passed, I very much let her know about it.

Of course, she didn’t seem particularly fazed, as she watched me sweat putting together all the new furniture that arrived during my second week, offering unhelpful building tips and even more unhelpful relationship tips.

But today is a new day, the start of a new week, and thisMonday I’ve managed to completely and utterly avoid Mr. Rhokar Strongarm, the world’s worst boss. I plan to make it a habit and continue for the rest of my third week at work exactly like this.

Without seeing him for a single second.

It’s been absolute chaos at the office, of course, and I’m ready to go home, shove my face full of Lunchables, and throw myself into a horizontal position on the nearest available surface.

After battling with the Department of Environmental Quality we finally got our permit, and finished all clearing, as well as a large portion of the excavation last week. We’re due to finish the lower-level excavation this Friday. It’s all going according to schedule, and a sense of victory and satisfaction fills me despite my exhaustion, as the sun dips below the horizon and I head out from the portables.

I did, unfortunately, leave my laptop back at the main office this morning though, so I hop into my car I head back there quickly to pick it up. I wanted to go through daycare options again tonight, and hopefully settle on a choice before the weekend so Grace can finally bring my kids.

I pull my car back into our lot and head inside, using my new set of keys to get into the now closed office. I’m distracted with thoughts as I ride the elevator up and enter the dim space still faintly lit with one of the secondary overhead lights. The clip of my heels over the hardwood is the only sound as I walk towards to my desk, so when I hear Rhokar’s door handle suddenly rattling as if a huge fist was angrily throwing it open, it startles me and I flinch and whirl around.

“Jee-eez!” I suppress the urge to stomp my foot, as annoyance almost instinctively takes root inside me at the sight of Rhokar’s green face. Damn it, I was so close to not seeing him today! “Why are you always stomping around and startling people?”

He lowers his heavy brows and slows his steps as he nears me. But oddly, he doesn’t look nearly as grumpy as usual. I wonder briefly if he’s in a rare, good mood, and then decide that I couldn’t care less even if he was.

“No-one else jumps out of their skin every time I walk by,” he says, slipping both hands into the pockets of his suit pants. “Maybe you should work on being less sensitive.”

“Maybe you should work on being less of a Hulk,” I snap.

But something softens around the edges of his mouth as he quirks one dark eyebrow, and mutters, “Hulk smash,” with quiet amusement, as of to himself, looking down at the table between us.

My brain momentarily short-circuits.

Did he just…

I’m thrown immediately back to the night we met, when I’d suggested that we should leave the bar together before he Hulk-smashed the place apart.

Hulk smash. There can’t be anything else he’s referencing there, right? I blink, and feel my forehead scrunch in confusion. Surely, he wouldn’t remember something so insignificant, from so long ago, with me, the woman he hates more than anyone else. I don’t even know why I remember it. I must have misheard him.

“What did you say?” I ask, but he just sighs and begins walking towards the exit once more.

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