Page 21 of Hold On Me

Yeah, fishing with Pops Brady is what came up. I’m onto him. He posted a photo of his tackle box on the gram with thehashtags #fishingbeforesurgery, #countdowntothanksgiving, and #thanksgivingwiththebradys.

I knew he’d do something like this. He’s been hinting at retirement for a while but didn’t want to leave me without someone he trusted to take his place. And I refused to acknowledge him when he asked me to start looking. And now he’s getting the last laugh.

Selfish as it was, I didn't want him to go. So I’m not surprised he decided Penelope would be the perfect replacement for him. She’s intelligent, sassy, and has the ability to get me to listen, just like her dad does.

We’ve got a few days until Thanksgiving. The team is exhausted but pushing themselves to the limit because we need to keep winning if we want to get into the playoffs. And to top it all off, I’ve got a Christmas party I’m supposed to be organising. All without my right hand man. It’s making my thunderous thoughts even worse.

Reaching the end of the office quicker than I anticipated, my plan to storm the break room comes to an abrupt stop when I spot her. Leaning against the cabinets, her long toned legs, made even longer by the sky high black heels she’s wearing, are crossed at the ankles. Her black skirt clings to her hips and her tight green top teases a hint of cleavage. A few strands of hair have escaped the tie at the base of her neck and float loose around her face, framing her cheeks. She beams across the room and I find my breath stuttering in my throat at the sheer beauty of her. What the fuck is happening to me?

My hands ball into fists at my side when I notice the reason for her smile—one of my employees who is very close to feeling my unreasonable anger right now.

She throws her head back and laughs at something he says and my lips twist into a snarl. How fucking dare he stand there making her laugh like that. She’smyassistant, not his.The irrational thoughts flow through my brain unhindered and unhinged, accompanied by a few of me maiming him.

Taking a few staggered breaths and trying to hold down the red rage shooting through me, I clear my throat to make my presence known. As they turn to face me, Penelope offers me a small smile and a hint of a blush creeps up her cheeks. I’m not sure if it’s embarrassment at being caught flirting or if she’s genuinely happy to see me? And all that does is add fuel to the fire raging inside me.

“When you’ve finished flirting your way through the office, I’d like a cup of tea on my desk. If it’s not too much to ask of course. I mean, it is after all why I’m paying you to be here.”

She flinches at my words and I swallow the guilt back. Hurt swirls in her eyes but she quickly shutters them and slowly blinks. When she opens them again, scorching anger replaces the hurt. Her face is a mask of indifference but her eyes, they’re blazing.

Rather than shying away from her, which any normal person would do, I want to take a step closer to her. See exactly what she’d do to me and whether I could get her to forgive me without even uttering a word.

I stride away from her, stomping back to my office and growling at anyone who so much as looks at me.

Slamming the door shut, I bellow, “Fuck” into the already charged air. This was not how today was supposed to go. I was supposed to be cool, calm, and collected for tonight’s game.

After her interview on Friday, I decided I needed to go back to the ignorant, arrogant man she’s used to. It was the only way I’d keep my sanity working with her. She’s too sassy, strong and quick witted. She turns me on and pisses me off all with one breath, and I can’t navigate that. I’m used to having no feelings when it comes to women, and this one manages to evoke a whole plethora of them with only so much as a look. The casual flirting,the banter, her sharp tongue meeting mine word for word—it would only lead me to wanting more. And I refuse to put myself in such dangerous territory.

It’s bad enough I spent the whole weekend thinking about her, driving myself mad wondering where she was or who she was with. I’m not a jealous man. Well, normally I’m not anyway. You’d have to give a shit about someone to be jealous over them, and I never have. So finding myself pacing the floor of my apartment over and over again whilst picturing Penelope smiling at some dick over a candlelit dinner was surprising and fucking inconvenient.

And although I know a lot of useless trivia about her, in reality, I know very little about her love life. Hank doesn’t talk about it. And the more images I created in my head, the more I was driving myself crazy. So much so, I got blind drunk on Saturday night.

Thankfully I didn’t have her number else I’d have been drunk calling her for a booty call at two am. Which is not normally my style, but the mood I was in, I wasn’t acting like myself at all.

Knowing we had a game Monday, I slept through most of Sunday, only waking for food when it was absolutely necessary. But even in my drunken and then hungover stupor, I still pictured a leggy brunette with a killer smirk and sassy mouth saying ‘Ben.’ It’s why I’m in a foul mood today. Sleeping through the day yesterday meant I had no desire to sleep last night, so I rode the clock.

I’ve already been awake for over twelve hours and I’m cranky as fuck. I’m supposed to be focused on tonight's game and not on everything else. Lack of sleep, caffeine, and the loss of my mental faculties are enough to put even the happiest of people in a mood.

I pace around the room like a caged tiger, only stopping to tug on my hair a few times. Who the fuck was she talking to, Ican’t even place him, I’m that blinded by rage. And why was she smiling at him like that? Does she flirt with everyone? Is this a normal thing? Am I only just seeing this side of her because I’d avoided her so much before? This is bollocks. Absolute bollocks.

I’ve hired someone I can’t stay away from when the best thing to do is to stay away from her. Someone I enjoy flirting with and thought enjoyed flirting with me. But now it seems I’m just a player on her scoreboard. I’m screwed.

A knock at my office door slams me back to the present and I run a hand through my hair to smooth it down as I step behind my desk, trying to gain a semblance of the ego she accused me of having before.

“Yes?” Thankfully my voice is normal. A little less angry than it was and slightly more gravelly, but it’s passable.

The door swings open quickly and the face I’m met with is not the same blank one I just pissed off in the break room. Nope, this face is angry. Gone is the mask of indifference and I’m faced with lips set in a firm, straight line, eyes flashing more green than brown, anger flickering inside them, dancing and laughing at me. Her jaw is clenched and her shoulders are pulled back. She meets my gaze, and now I understand Medusa’s power because one look from this goddess in front of me has me wilting beneath her.

I open my mouth to apologise, anything to take the scowl away from her beautiful face, but I’m stopped abruptly when she places a cup of tea on the desk in front of me.

“Your tea, Sir. Will there be anything else?” Her voice is saccharine sweet, the smile she offers borders on maniacal as her eyes blaze with anger.

I fight every urge I have to not shrink lower in my chair as my dick twitches at the word sir coming from her mouth. I am so screwed.

“Th-thank you,” I offer with a small smile, but it’s lost on her as she spins on her heels and heads toward the door.

“Enjoy your…tea, Mr. Elias.” She pauses and grins at me, and I gulp, looking at the innocent liquid steaming in the cup as she strolls out and slams the door behind her.

Fuck. What do I do now? I’m certainly not drinking that. She’s probably put rat poison in it or something.

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