Page 6 of Devoted
It’s bad enough that he’s demanding to control how others speak and interact with me, but now he’s doing it from my goddamn office? I swear, if that hot jerk has touched my fabric scissors, I’m going to use them on him.Well, more like use them on his clothes—I probably shouldn’t stab my boss.
I keep that in mind when I reach my little office, which doubles as a costume closet.
In the same move and demeanor as before, I knock and swing open the door to my office and come face-to-face with Knight Adler.
Literally face-to-face.
He must have been heading toward the door to exit at the same time I came in like a woman on a mission. The door would have slammed him in the face if he had been a few inches closer.
Oh no, that would have beenterrible.
“Why are the guys calling me Ms. Vivian?” I blurt out, wanting to get my question answered so badly that I do nothing to back away from the tall man crowding me. I guess I’m the one technically crowding him since I ran in here.
“Well, that is your name, isn’t it?” he asks with sarcasm lining his voice. Knight crosses his arms as he refuses to back down as well. He dares to be in a white dress shirt with a messy black tie and his sleeves rolled up. It would be a lot easier to keep things professional if he didn’t look like such a goddamn snack.
Then again, given his sarcastic reply, I don’t think he’s too concerned about staying professional, either.
Fuck it. That’s it. If we’re going to have an all-out conversation, then I’m game. But I’d prefer not to let everyone in the club hear it, so I take a quick moment to shut the door behind me, keeping my eyes on him the entire time.
Once the door clicks shut, I bring up my arms to mirror his stance as I begin.
“Vivianis my name.Vivianis what I prefer to be called. I also prefer to have a say in how people get to interact with me at work. I understand the guys, just like me, are your employees, but they’remycoworkers. Ones I have to see every day. And I would like them to feel comfortable around me. Not threatened into stupid niceties.” I try my best to keep my tone level, but I already feel my blood heating up when his face remains impassive through my speech. A small upward flick of his mustache only barely hides the sneer forming on his lip.
“Do you think flirting at work is acceptable? Because what I’ve seen from themandyou is a whole lot of joking, smiling, andtouching.” I don’t know what it is in his tone, but it just bothers me.
So what if the guys and I kid and laugh together at work? I’m literally related to two of them and have known some of the others for years. They’re like family to me, too.
“Flirting? Do you mean I’m flirting with them as I take their measurements and sew their clothing? Like it’s my job?” I ask incredulously.
His eyes narrow as he refuses to back down. In fact, he bends at the waist to get even further in my face.
“It is unbecoming,Ms. Vivian.” He punctuates my annoyingly formal name with two nods of his head.
“Excuse me?” I snap my head back. My arms are unable to stay crossed against my body; they’re in tight fists against my hips instead. Maybe it’s not too late to turn this into a fistfight, after all.
“No, you’ll have to excuseme.” Knight grabs at the large portfolio bag hanging off his side and rushes to the door like he can’t wait to get away from me.
“This isn’t over, Knight.”
I follow him a few steps out of my office and watch him stomp down the hall. Well, fuck, I was only joking about the stick up his ass, but now it really seems like he has something against me.
As annoyed and enraged as I am with his attitude, there’s a little part of me thatlikesthis. I’m sure there’s something wrongly crossed in my brain for me to still find this guy attractive after how he spoke to me. What’s extra concerning is the urge I get to keep arguing with him. Yeah, there’s something fucked up there in my mind.
“And you better not have touched my scissors!” I yell out as he turns the corner to exit the hallway.
Pacing in front of my desk, I let out a frustrated growl and run my hands down my face. Through the slats of my fingers, I stare at my desk and notice Knight’s forgotten jacket resting on the back of my chair.
No one has to know how it ended up around my shoulders for the rest of the night.
CHAPTER FOUR
KNIGHT
I hate raccoons.
Iheard her steps coming down the hallway, and I panicked as I shoved my artwork off her desk and back into my portfolio.
Black Dr. Martens platform boots, in size 8.5 to be exact, make a very distinguished sound compared to the heeled shoes the performers wear.
