Page 24 of Grumpy Orc CEO

When I get back to my office, I close the door and lean against it for a moment, letting out a heavy sigh. The frustration is mounting, a tight coil in my chest that refuses to unwind.

I push off the door and begin to pace the room, running a hand through my hair in an attempt to dispel some of the tension. Why does she keep shutting me out? What is it that makes her so damn determined to keep me at arm's length? And why can’t I just let it go?

The questions swirl in my mind like a storm. I sit down at my desk, staring at the stack of papers that demand my attention. Contracts, reports, and meeting notes—all essential, all urgent. But I can’t focus on any of it.

Her guarded demeanor, the way she avoids eye contact unless absolutely necessary, the curt responses—all of it gnaws at me. I’ve faced down boardrooms full of skeptical investors, negotiated deals with cutthroat competitors, but this? This feels like an insurmountable challenge.

I pick up a pen and tap it against the desk rhythmically, trying to channel my restless energy. Instead, the pen breaks after I knock it against the wood too many times. Great.

It's no use. I want to connect with her, to understand what makes her tick.

There’s something about her resilience, her strength in the face of adversity that draws me in. But every attempt I make seems futile. Each gesture of kindness is met with polite indifference or professional distance, which wouldn’t be a problem if I hadn’t already had a taste of what she’s like when her guard is down.

The office is quiet, the hum of fluorescent lights the only sound breaking the silence. I stand in the shadows of my office, watching Lucy from a distance. Her desk lamp casts a warm glow, highlighting the lines of exhaustion etched on her face. She’s hunched over a stack of documents, her fingers moving swiftly over the keyboard, determined to finish whatever task she’s set for herself.

My chest tightens with a mix of concern and frustration. She’s pushing herself too hard, and it’s taking a toll. The sight of her like this stirs something deep within me—a fierce need to protect her, to offer my help. But I know she won’t accept it. She’s made that abundantly clear.

I let out a heavy sigh, feeling the weight of my frustrations pressing down on me. Respecting her space is crucial, but it’s tearing me apart inside. I want to walk over there; to tell her she doesn’t have to do this alone. Yet every time I’ve tried to reach out, she’s pulled away.

Her resilience is both admirable and infuriating. She’s built walls around herself so high that even my best efforts can’t seem to break through. And it leaves me feeling helpless—an emotion I’m not accustomed to dealing with.

I lean against the doorframe, my eyes never leaving her form. She rubs her temples, clearly worn out but refusing to give in to fatigue. Her dedication is astounding, but at what cost?

Every fiber of my being screams at me to go to her, to offer some form of comfort or assistance. But I know it would be unwelcome. Lucy values her independence, that much I know, and any attempt on my part would likely be seen as interference rather than support.

I clench my fists at my sides, struggling to keep the frustration check. This helplessness is so damn foreign and unwelcome, but there’s nothing I can do about it.

Respecting her need for space means staying put, even though it tears at me inside. So, I watch from the shadows, hoping she’ll find some rest soon, even if it means she has to do it on her own terms.

Later, I sit alone in my dimly lit office, the soft glow of the desk lamp casting long shadows across the room. The glass of whiskey in my hand feels cool against my skin, a welcome contrast to the heat of my ongoing plight. I take a slow sip, letting the smoky warmth spread through me. It does little to calm the turmoil inside.

My mind drifts back to Lucy and the walls she’s built around herself. Everyone has their reasons, their pasts that shape who they are. But knowing that doesn’t make it any easier. The more she pulls away, the more determined I become.

But damn it, where’s the line? How do I balance this intense desire to connect with her against the need to respect her boundaries? Professional boundaries that the CEO should be respecting as it is.

The thought of pushing too hard and driving her away isn’t an option. I’ve seen that look in her eyes—the one that says she’s ready to bolt at any moment.

I take another sip of whiskey, contemplating my next move. Patience has never been my strong suit, but for her, I’ll wait. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, knowing I have to tread carefully when all I want is to break down those walls and show her what we could be together.

The waiting is slowly driving me mad.

With a sigh, I set the glass down on my desk and rub my temples. Patience. It’s what she needs from me right now, and it’s what I’ll give her. Even if it kills me inside.

As the night stretches on, I finish my drink and stand up, looking out at the city lights beyond my window. One day at a time—that’s how I'll get through this. One day at a time until she sees what I see in us.

CHAPTER 14

Lucy

I’ve been Jarvin’s secretary for a few weeks now, and staying late is something I’ve grown accustomed to. The office is quieter, making my thoughts of him that much louder.

The office is dimly lit, the clock on the wall ticking past midnight. The glow from my computer screen casts a soft light, barely illuminating the space around me.

I push a strand of hair behind my ear, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling in. The last-minute project is demanding every ounce of my attention, and I’m determined to finish it.

Yet, despite my best efforts, I can’t ignore the faint sounds of movement coming from Jarvin’s office. The shuffle of papers, the occasional creak of his chair—it’s a constant reminder that he’s still here. A flutter stirs in my stomach every time I think about him just a few doors away.

It’s ridiculous. I shouldn’t be feeling this way about my boss, especially not after how hard I've worked to keep things professional. But there it is—an undeniable pull that I can’t seem to shake.

---