Page 4 of For the Love of Layla

Maybe I should try to do that with my makeup. My lips could be a bit bigger. I’d need lip liner, but that requires going to a store…in person.

“Out.” He barks, and I’m grateful he missed the way I flinched. Barely looking up until I stand. Then, making direct eye contact with my ass that’s hugged tightly in my pencil skirt, the deep violet top I have on today is more modest than I would like. Sleeveless with a jewel neckline, but I can’t stand his eyes on me all day long, like I’m a piece of meat he’s ready to chew on. I close my laptop, standing quickly, desperate not to piss him off today. Not that it matters. I have first rights to the top of his shit list every day of the week. I ignore the wobbly feeling in my legs and lightness in my head as I scurry out of his office.

Today is a big day. Blinked was bought out by Curran Enterprises nearly a week ago. Danvers has been an even more unreasonable swine, making my job as a writer underneath his sausage thumb hell on fucking earth. Today decides if we’re going to be dissolved or allowed to continue, he’s meeting with the head of the company.

Despite Danvers being a dickbag, I do like my job. Furthermore, I need it. When grandpa left me the large three-story farmhouse in his estate, I was honored to inherit the place I grew up in. Every fond memory I have lives in those walls, curated by that man. Although I had no idea how fucking expensive old houses were. Like, stupidly expensive.

Why in the fuck is the shelf life of a shingledroofonly twenty-five years? Making the current roof of the farm about forty-five years overdue for an upgrade and it shows by the ever damp and slightly moldy attic.

A sharp pain flares in my left ankle, it twists in my heel, jerking sideways as I crumple to the floor. My knees scraping against the acid washed concrete floors.

“Fucking hell.” I groan. My cheeks heating as I look around, praying to whatever higher power nobody saw me eat shit in the hall. That’s when my gaze meets his. His ocean eyes deep set in his face, punctuated by thick copper toned eyebrows that are currently arched in amusement.

“Are you alright?” His husky voice takes me by surprise as I bite down on my bottom lip, the pain in my ankle momentarily forgotten. I nod as he reaches out his hand. Glancing at it tentatively before I place my small one in his.His grasp is strong and soft all at the same time. It’s so warm, he looks every bit a ginger headed God. I wonder what these hands would feel on my-

“Layla, what in Christ’s name?” Mr. Danvers’ voice booms down the hall, making me jump, everything in me screaming cry and run away. A completely nonsensical reaction, I’m aware.

The man’s eyebrows knit together, doing nothing to dampen the impossibly attractive angular planes of his face. His frown deepens and suddenly I feel overexposed, like I’m stuck under a microscope. Those blue eyes unrelenting against mine, only making me feel even more fucking embarrassed.

Grow up, Layla adults can handle a little yelling.

“I apologize for her, Mr. Curran.” Oliva pipes in. I didn’t even see her there.

Mr. Curran… oh, fucking fuckity fuck.

He helps pull me to my feet as I brace myself on the wall, my mind racing as I imagine all the humiliating ways Danvers is about to fire me in front of his insanely hot new boss. Mr. Curran bends, grabbing my battered laptop which seems to have fared even worse than me in the fall. “Thank-” I stop short as soon as I put weight on my ankle, wincing in pain.

“It’s already swelling.” He says, his eyes are so intense, so scrutinizing I feel even smaller than I am. Which is saying a lot at a whopping five foot four inches.

“I’m fine, really. Thank you, Mr. Curran. I’m sorry, that wasn’t much of a greeting.” He smiles at me, flashing a row of perfectly straight white teeth before chuckling. The sound does weird things to my chest. If this is the standard for attractiveness, we’re all fucked.

“Actually, it’s the most intriguing greeting I’ve received in a while.” I smile back shyly, feeling like a giddy fucking child. Oliva scoffs, touching his arm lightly as he hands me my battered laptop.

He jerks his arm away from her as if she’s garlic and he’s a newborn vampire. She frowns, her eyes widening for half a second, not used to rejection, “I’ll show you to Mr. Danvers’ office.”

I look back at my boss, his pudgy face red as he taps his foot impatiently, as if me hurting myself is an awful inconvenience to him. I don’t even mean to when I roll my eyes. The man is a walking caricature. My heart lurches in my chest as I notice Mr. Curran caught me, only making his eyes light with amusement. A secretive smirk lining his lightly freckled face.

I worry my lip as he half turns to Oliva, “Help her to a break room and get her some ice. She needs to stay off her ankle.” He orders. The finality in his voice floods my belly with heat.

I’m right here, dude.

He nods to me, lingering for a fat minute until it’s verging on awkward. Oliva breaks the weird tension, gripping my forearm, pulling me towards my cubicle. Offering little to no support as I hobble very unsexy goblin beside her. Her long neon pink acrylics poking into my flesh.

“Black or blue?” Ava asks, shoving her phone in my face. Oblivious to the fact that I’ve been totally zoned out for God knows how long. I look at the two dresses as she swipes back and forth, “Definitely blue.”

She frowns, pulling her phone back, her short charcoal hair blowing lightly in the breeze. Ava has always been naturally pretty. So effortlessly so it makes my chest hurt when I look at my best friend. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her wear an ounce of makeup. She’s never needed it. Her brown doe eyes scan the screen, displeased with my answer.

“For fuck’s sake Ava, why ask me if you never like my answer?” I grumble, my mouth watering as the waiter approaches with our food.

Fuck yes.

“It’s part of my creative process. I’m trying to get laid tonight. This outing is far from casual, the blue is casual. It doesn’t screamrail me in your parents’ bed.”

I smile up at the waiter as he carefully sits down my sunny side up eggs and toast. Steam rolling off the bacon beside it and I’m already gearing up to scald my mouth again.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.” His shoulder-length blonde hair falls into his face as he flashes me a loaded smile. I wish I felt something. I haven’t even been interested in anyone else since I broke things off with Liam.

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