Page 16 of Grumpy Orc CEO

I shake my head, frustrated with my lack of control over my emotions. This is not what I signed up for when I took this job. Hell, if I knew that he would be my boss, I probably wouldn’t have bothered! But as much as I want to keep things strictly professional, there’s no denying the pull I feel towards him.

As the day wears on, avoiding Jarvin becomes an exhausting effort. Each interaction with him—no matter how brief—leaves me questioning if keeping my distance is really what I want. But for now, I'll stick to my plan: professionalism above all else.

I sit across from Jarvin in the conference room, the large table separating us. The room buzzes with conversation, everyone discussing the new project. I try to concentrate on the details being presented, but my eyes keep drifting toward him.

Jarvin leans forward, engaging in the discussion with a fervor that’s hard to ignore. His eyes light up as he talks about the project's potential, and I watch closely, noticing how animated he becomes when he's passionate about something. It’s captivating.

I force myself to look at my notes, but my attention wavers. Every time he speaks, his voice commands the room, making it impossible for me to tune him out. I feel a flutter in my chest—a reaction I can't seem to control.

He makes a point about market strategy, and his confidence radiates through his words. His presence is magnetic, drawing me in despite my best efforts to remain detached. I find myself staring again, lost in the way he moves his hands for emphasis.

I quickly look away, hoping no one noticed me zoning out. My cheeks flush with embarrassment. This isn’t like me—I’m usually so focused during meetings. But Jarvin has this effect on me that I can't shake off.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him glance in my direction. My heart skips a beat. Did he catch me staring? I force myself to look down at my notes again, scribbling something—anything—to appear busy. I end up doodling twisters and cats, since nothing in this meeting managed to stick to my brain.

The meeting continues, but it feels like a battle to keep my eyes down Every time he speaks, that familiar flutter returns. It’s frustrating and exhilarating all at once.

Back at my desk, my mind is a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. I’m annoyed that Jarvin has such an effect on me, but I also feel a thrill I haven’t experienced in a long time. It’s maddening. I remember our brief encounter at the airport and how easy it was to talk to him. His playful banter, the way he made me laugh—it was like we’d known each other forever.

Part of me wants to explore those feelings further. I can still feel the warmth of his hand when he took mine, the intensity of that unexpected kiss. It lingers on my lips like a ghost, haunting my thoughts no matter how much I try to shake it off.

I take a deep breath and remind myself why I’m here—to start fresh, to focus on my career. Mixing personal feelings with professional life is a recipe for disaster.

My resolve hardens as I bury myself in my tasks, typing away at my computer and sorting through emails. But every now and then, a piece of Jarvin slips through my defenses—a glimpse of his smile, the sound of his laugh. It’s infuriating how easily he invades my thoughts.

I know I have to keep my guard up. Letting emotions get in the way is dangerous, especially when it comes to someone like Jarvin. He’s powerful, confident, and undeniably attractive—but he’s also my boss.

I push those thoughts aside and concentrate on the reports in front of me. Numbers don’t lie; they don’t play games with your heart or leave you second-guessing yourself.

I take another deep breath and resolve once again to stay focused on what matters: my work, my fresh start. Even if it means ignoring the pull I feel toward Jarvin every time our paths cross.

I return from a quick break to find a steaming cup of coffee on my desk, accompanied by a note that reads, "Thought you might need this."

I stare at the note, my heart doing an involuntary flip. Jarvin’s handwriting is bold and confident, just like him. I glance toward his office; he’s on a call but meets my gaze through the window and offers a quick smile and a nod before turning back to his conversation.

I take a sip of the coffee, feeling its warmth spread through me. The gesture is simple yet thoughtful, chipping away at the walls I've built around myself. My resolve to keep things strictly professional wavers ever so slightly.

I try to concentrate on an email but find myself distracted by his kindness. These little gestures—each one more disarming than the last—make it increasingly difficult to maintain my professional distance.

I sip the coffee and feel a warmth that has nothing to do with the drink itself. The undeniable chemistry between us bubbles just beneath the surface, threatening to spill over.

Just as I’m lost in thought, Jarvin walks by my desk. This time, he winks at me—casual yet intentional. The unexpected gesture catches me off guard, and I begin to choke on the coffee.

I quickly grab a napkin, coughing and sputtering as I try to regain composure. Jarvin pauses for a moment, concern flashing across his face before it’s replaced by an amused grin.

“You okay there?” His deep voice is filled with genuine concern mixed with amusement.

“I’m fine,” I manage between coughs, my cheeks burning with embarrassment as I dab the coffee stains off of my blouse.

He nods and continues on his way, leaving me to wonder how much longer I can resist the pull between us.

I somehow manage not to embarrass myself the rest of the afternoon. Later, as I’m leaving a meeting, Jarvin is right behind me. He reaches forward, his muscled arm and large frame brushing past me as he holds the door open for me, a small but significant act. Our eyes meet briefly as I walk through the doorway.

“Thanks,” I murmur, trying to keep my tone neutral.

“Anytime,” he replies evenly with that same warm smile that’s becoming harder to resist.

CHAPTER 10

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