Page 31 of As the World Falls

He gives me a distasteful look, watching me sputter and regather my composure. “Apparently not enough. Do you ever act graciously in public?”

“I do if I’m around gracious people.” I make a show out of looking around him. “Nope. Don’t see anyone.”

“Your comedy is the least bit amusing, little owl.”

“Please stop calling me that.”

“I will when you call quits on this whole charade.”

“Not a chance,” I fire back.

“It looks like it’s sticking, then.” He looks over my shoulder into the case where my attention was just a minute ago. “What is it you like?”

“Oh. Nothing.”

“Show me,” he demands.

I narrow my eyes at him. I really couldn’t stand his cocky attitude. “As if I could like anything with your name on it.”

He chuckles. “You couldn’t pull off my taste anyways, given yours is,” His eyes drape me from head to toe. “Questionable.”

“Are you serious?” I guffaw. “My taste is fun and cute. Yours is…uptight and dull.”

“Says the woman with butterflies on her undergarments. Shall we visit the toy store today, too?”

My face heats, and I look down at my shirt as my hands reach over my chest. “How do you know that?”

“You don’t think people can’t see the bright blue of your bra beneath your top? The minute you took your blazer off and walked into the light, I could instantly see the tiny little butterflies scattered across it.” I hug my blazer tighter over my chest as hot mortification burns every inch of my body. I had only taken my blazer off for not even twenty minutes while I ate lunch. How could he have possibly noticed that quickly? Oh yeah, because he’s a typical man.

His annoying saccharine smile scorches me, and I’m too embarrassed to respond. I could tell he was thoroughly enjoying it. “Now, now, don’t be too upset,” he teases. “It’s cute, little owl. Who doesn’t love butterflies?”

“You’re an asshole,” I scold lowly. It was the only defense I had left in me.

He takes one step closer to me. “Don’t you forget it, babe. You don’t have to return tomorrow morning if you don’t feel up to it.”

“Oh, I’m up to it. Your pervy eyes aren’t enough to steer me away.”

His smirk drops into a displeased frown. “Then tomorrow, I expect less of a show. Arrive appropriately with thicker clothing.Preferably ones I can’t see through and don’t rip halfway through the day.”

I grind my teeth together so hard I briefly wonder if I could spit the dust at him. “Sure thing, boss.”

He frowns at me a moment longer, his expression full of pure disdain, before he shoulders past me toward the exit. “Let’s go,” he barks out, barreling through the door and officially ending this day.

Chapter Eleven

James

I spot Cecilia walking into work the next day as she walks off the elevator. My gaze unwillingly drops to her body, taking in her outfit today just as I did yesterday. I was taken aback yesterday when she arrived in actual decent work attire and was even more taken aback when she slipped her stockings off right in front of me in my office. I couldn’t help but be aware of every inch of her exposed pale skin as her stockings drew down her legs. I was just a man, but to look at her like that, Tobias’s sister, was crossing a line. Not to mention, she’s the current bane of my existence, even if she did have spectacular legs.

Today, she was wearing a simple black pencil skirt with black stockings again and a long-sleeved silky white button-down tucked into it. A non-see-through one, I might add. I nearly choked on my coffee yesterday when she took her blazer off, and I could see the blue outlines of all the little butterflies across her bra. Making eye contact with her the rest of the day was hard when I knew what she was wearing underneath her clothes. The girlish print only reminded me of how much younger she was than me and made me feel even worse.

Her bangs were clipped away from her face while the rest of her mane curled around her. I couldn’t help but compare her to every woman on the floor, and the fact that none of their beauty compared to hers made my hands ball into fists with irritability. I’ve never met a woman who looked as ethereal and innocent as Cecilia but with so much spite, and it kept tugging at something in my chest that was beginning to drive me mad.

Like I said, I think she was a witch.

She struts towards me with a smirk, like she is ready to begin another day of hell, but I notice the faint droop in her eyes, hinting that she is tired.

“Good morning, James,” she says confidently.

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