Page 57 of Company Ink

"Listen...Cassie." Adrian takes a step closer to me. "About Friday," he begins softly as I wait for the machine to spurt out the elixir of life. "Have you—" He takes a deep breath, almost as if he doesn't want to talk about it.Why is he bringing it up then?I was hoping we'd just forget about what happened on Friday. "Have you spoken to your parents since we left?"

Oh, you mean since you yelled at my father and dragged me out of the house?

"No, not really," I sigh. "My mom texted me saying my dad loved his gift and that they're canceling their Fourth of July party on account of their moving." I narrow my eyes. "Why are you asking?"

Adrian licks his lips, choosing his words carefully. "I don't want to overstep my bounds, but I think you should talk to your father. You should tell him how his words affect you."

I cross my arms defensively. "What do you mean 'affect me'? I'm fine. That's just how my dad is."

"Cassie..." Adrian takes another step closer, his gentle and warm eyes meeting mine. "You were clearly upset by the way he was talking about you. He's not going to change unless you tell him that it's not okay."

"What are you? My therapist?" I scoff. "I don't need your advice on how to deal with my father."

Adrian takes a deep breath, briefly shutting his eyes. "Men like your father value honest and straightforward dialogue. Have you ever told him how he makes you feel?"

"You don't even know my dad! And no, I haven't, because it's fine. I'm used to it." I bite my lip watching Adrian's genuinely concerned expression. God, I'm being so hostile right now. What's wrong with me? "I've told my mom before. She said she'd talk to him," I admit quietly.

"I think he should hear it from you, Cariño," he says, lifting his hand up to my face but then dropping it quickly, his eyes darting to the door. I look over my shoulder to find Sandra from IT filling up her water bottle. We stay frozen until she leaves.That was close!

Adrian continues, "Just think about it, Cassie. Once he leaves, you won't have that opportunity."

I mull everything he says over. "Why do you care so much?" I ask, trying to search his face for an answer.

"I wasn't joking when I said your father reminds me of my own. And I know from personal experience that speaking your mind helps." Adrian reaches for my hand, his fingers grazing my knuckles. "You're not you when you're around him. Don't let him put out your fire."

I blink, taking in his sweet yet so frustrating observation, feeling the heat of his touch. "Do you get along with your dad?" I whisper.

Adrian lets out a low, almost inaudible chuckle. "No, but we respect each other which is sometimes more important."

"And you don't think my dad respects me?" I frown.

"I'm not saying that." Adrian's grip tightens around my hand, his eyes flickering around my pained features. "Please don't make that face. I'm not trying to upset you, Cassie."

"I'm not upset with you." I take a deep breath. "I just—I hate talking about my dad."

"I'm done. I'm sorry," Adrian whispers, and then his head jerks up, his gaze drifting over my shoulder. He suddenly drops my hand, his eyes darkening. "Pearson."

"Adrian."

My eyes widen as I twirl around. Blake's standing in the door frame wearing his classic all-black suit, his narrowed gaze darting between me and Adrian. When his eyes land on my face, his expression softens.

"Cassie, good morning. Did you get the tickets I left for you on your desk?" he asks.

I clear my throat before responding. "Yeah, I did. Thank you again. Ness is so excited!"

"Tickets?" Adrian asks, circling around me, our three bodies creating a triangle in the middle of the kitchen.

"Yeah, for the Monet exhibit at the SAM," I explain, forcing a smile. This room just shrunk two sizes. "Bl—Mr. Pearson knows the uh—curator."

Adrian perks up an eyebrow. "I wasn't aware you were interested in art."

"I'm not."

"She's not." I whip my head towards Blake, who smirks. "But her cousin is a connoisseur of sorts," he says to Adrian.

"You've met her cousin?" Adrian asks Blake in a strained tone, his gaze unwavering.

"We bumped into each other this weekend," Blake clarifies coolly.

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