"Sorry, didn't think you'd jump like that from a simple touch," he tells me while running his hand through his hair.
Tim falls into the category of men who won't knock you out with either looks or brains. Most times he works with someone else to finish his tasks and is only kept on because he's old friends with Gregory.Ugh.
"Where are the others?" I ask, hoping to escape him and find people I actually tolerate.
I know it's not his fault I jump like a crazy person at every touch, but the mere fact that I reacted this way irritates me and makes me want to go home. I've become socially inept in just a few months.
Someone made you this way.
Tim points to the table where my colleagues are sitting, and I head toward them, trying to forget the earlier moment.
"Luna, you look wonderful," Clara whispers.
She's got this way with people - always organizing the team with a gentle touch, making everyone feel heard. While she fills me in on her BTech research and their other ventures, I find myself actually relaxing.
Then a voice cuts through the room from the stage, and suddenly I can't breathe. The air just...vanishes.
Dear God, it should be illegal to look that perfect.
Roman Borisov doesn't just occupy the stage - he commands every inch of it, as if even the parquet shines brighter where he steps. He's wearing a navy suit that makes his eyes appear even more hypnotic. No tie, no bow tie, just a white shirt with the top button undone at the neck, giving him a more relaxed air, but the tension in his shoulders betrays him and it's obvious he hates giving speeches.
He has a presence that demands attention, and that's the problem. Just like everyone else in this room, I gravitate toward him. He's like a magnet, and I'm sure all the female employees are lighting candles in church hoping this man will look their way.
"Thank you all for being here. I'll try to keep this brief so you can return to the party. The acquisition of SensorLife is an important step for the project scheme we want to develop, and I'm proud of what Gregory's team has managed to accomplish, considering the restrictions they've faced. I hope we'll have a successful collaboration and help as many people as possible with this innovation."
At that moment, he raises the whiskey glass in his hand and takes a sip.
"And to end with something someone told me a few days ago: we all work as one so someone can breathe easier. Take it easy with the cocktails tonight. Brady at the bar doesn't skimp on the alcohol."
I can't believe he mentioned what I said at the Mexican restaurant. I thought he'd completely forgotten about me thesecond he left the place, but I suppose you don't easily forget an incident that ends with your fist in someone else's face.
But what's even more confusing is the mix of emotions and warmth in my stomach.
Please tell me I'm not blushing because he chose to use something I said.
The room bursts into applause as he descends from the stage. I'm glad he didn't mention anything about profit or numbers. Usually, when a big corporation swallows a small one, the first concern is to trumpet the financial benefits. But the fact that he focused on the human impact of the project, on the people who will benefit, fills my soul with hope.
Maybe you're wrong and he's not so bad, whispers a voice, but I know to ignore it. It's the same voice that for a year kept telling me to give another chance to the man who almost killed me.
When will you learn your lesson, Luna?When?Probably when I'm dead.
Chapter 11
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Roman
I hate giving speeches, especially in front of a crowd. Unfortunately, the CEO position comes packaged with this obligation. Being the public face of everything that happens behind the scenes.
When I step onto the stage, I feel a phantom touch and know it's just in my mind. I'm alone up here, with a hundred gazes fixed on me. But I recognize this sensation. It's the feeling of being read down to your bone marrow, and usually, this sensation irritates me.
But now, in this moment, I scan the sea of faces, trying to find that pair of green eyes that I know is analyzing me. Only her gaze from the restaurant has ever provoked this sensation in me, and I'm sure she's here, somewhere in the crowd. I personally verified she made it past the entrance. My speech is concise and the room is full of people hidden in shadows or at tables, so I can't find her gaze.
As I descend from the stage, I catch sight of Sofia, Niko's assistant, applauding with an ear-to-ear smile.
"Well, that wasn't bad at all. Looks like you're starting to develop a taste for speeches." But she must read my expression because she bursts out laughing.
"Alright, alright, no more speeches. Isn't Niko coming?" she asks, and I hear more than just polite curiosity in her voice.