"Victor Dullac's office, Abril speaking. How can I help you?"

"Lawrence Vaughn speaking, get me Dullac."

"What company should I announce?"

"He'll know who I am."

Strange. He wasn't in the list of usuals that I had managed to memorize.

"All right, just give me a moment."

I put the man on hold and called Dullac's line.

"Dullac," he said when he picked up.

"I have Lawrence Vaughn calling for you. He did not specify any company, he said that you would know him."

Dullac cursed under his breath and muttered something illegible.

"Pardon?"

"Nothing," he hissed. "Yes, I know him. Tell him I'm unavailable."

"When should I tell him to call again?"

"Never," he said with finality before hanging up on me. That's how Dullac Senior dealt with professional phone calls. No 'hello', no 'goodbye'. Always straight to the point.

I switched the line back to the caller.

"Mr. Vaughn?"

"This is he."

"I'm afraid Mr. Dullac is unavailable at the moment, may I suggest trying—"

"He's avoiding my call, isn't he?" He interrupted me.

His question took me by surprise and I took one second too long to come up with a reply. Rookie mistake.

"No, he's just busy," I lied.

"Does he pay you extra to lie for him?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

What a cliché line...

"Listen, ma'am. I need to talk to him and I know his schedule. I am certain that he is nowhere else than in his office right now, and that he is perfectly capable of picking up his phone. Let's cut to the chase and transfer my call. I'll tell him I made you so you don't get in trouble."

Men... They really are entitled, aren't they?

I stuck to my original lie. Not out of obedience for Dullac's order anymore, but because this Vaughn guy was too arrogant for my taste.

"I'm afraid you're wrong, sir. Mr. Dullac is unable to take your call at the moment."

"Fine, I'll just come in person," he said curtly before hanging up. This wasn't going to end well.

A couple hours later, he barged into my office, slamming the door against the wall and startling me off my chair. The intruder was a tall, middle-aged, dark-skinned man. His designer suit was skin-tight against his prominent biceps and thighs. His jawline was sharp and his butt round. The man was a proper snack. Just as hot as Daddy Dullac, although in a completely different way.

He stopped in his steps and looked at me.

"You must be the person I talked to on the phone," he said with a smirk, gauging me, in a deep voice that he wanted intimidating. Little did he know that I was long past being intimidated by men.

"And you must be Mr. Vaughn!" I replied with a fake smile and a fake cheerful tone.

I stood up from my chair and, under the pretense of shaking his hand, placed my body between him and the door to Dullac's office. He accepted my hand and shook it more firmly than necessary, seeing right through me.

"You know I'll have no issue going past you, right?" He challenged me.

"And you know I can't let you do that, right?"

He laughed, like what I had just said was funny. I gave him my deadliest glare.

"Come now, I'm going to get past you either way. Do you really want to make this a problem?"

"You won't get past me," I asserted.

At this point, one could wonder why I was so adamant to stop that guy. Dullac may not want to see him but we were past what my job required of me. Surely VDO's did not expect me to tackle any intruder who might want to get inside the big boss's office. Yet, I was ready to do just that. Not because of any loyalty to Dullac, but because this Vaughn dude had rubbed me the wrong way and I was not one to let go of things.

He made a step to his right, trying to go around me. I mirrored him and blocked his way. It seemed to amuse him. It just made me angrier. I took a few steps back until my back was almost touching the door to Dullac's office, just to make sure the motherfucker wouldn't sneak his way around me.

"Mr. Dullac is busy and will not be receiving you," I parroted as if he needed a reminder.

"When I see him, I'll make sure to tell him to give you a raise, you sure do a fine job at being his guard dog."

His hand went for the handle behind me but I was quicker and I moved my body in front of it to block him.

"All right, that's enough," he snapped.

As he was about to grab my shoulders to forcefully remove me, I raised my pointer finger in front of him, as a warning.

"If you lay even just a finger on me," I threatened him, "I will file a complaint against you for assault. I am not being a physical threat to you, and you're trespassing. You have no right to touch me."

He snorted, oozing with condescension.

"Trespassing? Me? Do you know who I am?"

"I do not have the faintest idea."

Take that, motherfucker! Whoever you think you are, you're a nobody to me.

"Just move out of my way."

"No."

He swore and mumbled all kinds of insanities, and finally screamed "Dullac!" at the top of his lungs.

Please don't open the door, please don't open the door, please don't open the door!

After a few seconds, Dullac opened the door behind me. Ugh!

I could only imagine how weird the scene must have looked to him.

"You chose her well, Dullac, she's been a good bulldog. But you and I have got something to settle and I won't let your dumb employee stop me."

"Excuse me?" I gasped, outraged.

"April, stay out of this and go back to your desk."

I looked at my boss in utter shock. After all the effort I had put into keeping Vaughn away, Dullac just gave up without a fight, making me look stupid in the process. And Vaughn was taunting me with a gloating smile. I swear I saw him mouth the words "told ya!" to my attention.

"Excuse me ma'am," he said sarcastically when he walked past a defeated me.

The door closed on the two men, not before Dullac had the time to cast an angry look on me. Like, seriously? I had all but manhandled Vaughn out of this office, what else would he have wanted me to do?

I tried very hard not to get too angry at the situation. Whatever was going on between Vaughn and Dullac was none of my business. But still. I didn't like being belittled, ignored, looked down upon, for no other reason that I was a woman in a male-dominated company. For real, though, who just barges into somebody's office and expects not to be stopped? The audacity!

This has nothing to do about you being a woman, stop thinking that everything is a feminism issue. It's just about your appearance. If your hair wasn't freaking pink, you would be taken seriously.

No. Just, no. It had taken me years of working on myself to train my inner voice to stop doubting myself. It had taken a severe toll when... Well, let's just say there was a reason I had dropped out of the best university in California, if not in the country. I had worked my ass off to rebuild my confidence, I was not letting two insufferable grown men tear down all my efforts.

Maybe if you had not dropped out of Caltech and had an actual degree, people would not see you as just a dumb assistant.

Stop. Shut the fuck up.

Maybe if you stopped giving your ass away like a cheap whore, people would view you as more than somebody to use for sex. Or maybe not, actually. You're too fat for anyone to want anything more than meaningless sex with you.

Enough!

But there was no stopping the well-oiled machine of self-loathing.

It seemed that my inner voice was having a moment and had grown a mind of its own. The awful thoughts about myself just kept popping up in my brain, each one meaner than the previous one.

My breathing turned hasty and shallow, like that time in the elevator. I had to sit down. I walked to my desk and let myself fall on my chair. All I needed to do was ground myself. It would be fine. I would be fine. I slipped a hand in the waistband of my skirt and reached for my tattoo, anxious to feel the familiar bump beneath my fingers. When I did, I let out a small sigh of relief.

I had a small tattoo of the Aquarius constellation on my left hip bone. I had had it done ages earlier, when I was a teenager. It was a pre-Caltech thing. As opposed to the small tattoo I had on the nape of my neck, just above my hairline, hidden in my pink locks. That one was a post-Caltech thing. And so was the one on my finger.

Touching my tattoo, feeling safe and familiar when running my fingers along the subtle relief of it, was a self-taught anchoring mechanism. Well, a therapist had recommended to me, post-Caltech, that I find some small, basic action I could do when my mind drifted, which it used to do a lot more right after I dropped out than now. A small action to remind me, and my fucked-up mind, where I was at this instant and that what I was feeling was mostly just in my head. That's the solution I had come up with. It wasn't great, it wasn't bad either. It had turned into a soothing habit, kind of like a child with a teddy bear, more than an actual anchoring mechanism, but it sort of did the job. I probably would have been taught better solutions if I had done more than one therapy session back then.

That day, though, it didn't do the job. I kept rubbing, feeling, grazing my tattoo, and nothing. I was still drifting. I wanted to call a friend, someone who knew my story, who would help me calm down. Sigrid was always my first choice in those kinds of situations, but she had just been hired at a law firm that was rightfully called the 'shark tank'. There was no way she'd be available for a phone call with her mentally unstable friend on a Thursday afternoon. Some people had real work to do.

Is she even your friend? You've barely spoken to her in the last few days. She must have found better friends than you. Friends who call her more regularly, friends who are available most nights instead of busy fucking someone new.

I tried my best to argue with my inner voice, hoping that could help. I had been busy with my two jobs, and so had Sigrid at the law firm. She was still my best friend, and nothing could change that. I hoped.

I thought of calling Cedric. He was an undergrad and a frat boy, he definitely was not busy doing things as trivial as attending a lecture. And whatever else he was doing, surely he would set it aside to answer my call. He'd know it was important.

Then I remembered that Cedric and I were still fighting, so I dropped the idea of calling him. He'd probably pick up anyway, he wasn't a cruel person who'd let their friend suffer on purpose, regardless of how badly he was fighting with said friend. But I was too scared of being proven wrong to do it.

Would he even pick up, actually? You drove him away by behaving like a slut. You've managed to drive away a man who's probably a bigger slut than you. What an accomplishment! He's not coming back. Even if you apologize, it's too late. He'll never forgive you.

My hand that was not stuffed in my skirt started shaking. I held on to my desk to steady it. I needed to find a solution soon or I would drift into a full-blown breakdown. It would not be pretty.

That's what you deserve, anyway. You don't deserve a stable, simple life. You ruined his life, you don't get to have it easy. If anything, you should be thankful your life is not worse.

That last rogue thought summoned them. The tears. The familiar burn as they started to pool at the bottom of my eyes, ready to fall any second. My vision blurred and it became characteristically hard to swallow. I was about to sob, like I always did when I thought of him.

Even though it had been months since the last time I had cried, I was still very accustomed to the feeling.

A sob came out of my mouth, despite my best effort to muffle it. Then a second one. Then a third. And after that, all my self-control collapsed.

The phone rang and snapped me back to reality. I was at work, for heaven's sake, it was no place to be crying like a degenerate. Dullac could be coming in there any time soon and see me in this state. I plucked a tissue from the box on my desk, blew my nose, wiped my eyes, and picked up the phone.

"Victor Dullac's office, Abril speaking. How can I help you?" I said in a convincing professional voice.

"Hello Abril, this is Arthur Dullac. May I speak to my father?"

"Of course, I'll transfer you. Please hold."

"Abril, have you been crying?" Arthur asked as I was fiddling with the transfer button.

So much for my voice being convincing.

"No," I lied, partly because I didn't want to show any weakness to this man, partly because I didn't want to say yes and make him feel like he had to listen to my sappy story, and partly because it wasn't really any of his business.

Then I involuntarily sniffed and it gave me away.

"Abril..." He pressed.

"Fine. Yes, I have been crying. Probably still am. Happy?"

"Not for a single second. Dear lord, what did he do?"

"Huh?"

"My father, what did he do?"

I let out a weak laugh. For once, he had done nothing wrong. Well, almost nothing. He had definitely participated in triggering a self-deprecating spiral in my own mind, but that was mostly the fault of said mind for being so fucked up. Dullac Senior had just been a bit of a dick, as always. No more, no less.

"Nothing, actually," I told the truth. Then for some unknown reason, I felt compelled to tell more. "It's just me, I was spiraling when you called and I had trouble getting a grip. But your call snapped me out of it, so thank you."

"Spiraling, you say? About what?"

"Arf, you know, stupid stuff," I brushed it off. That wasn't a story I wanted to tell. "Sometimes my mind is my worst enemy, really."

"I know the feeling more than you could imagine, Abril, and I'd be happy to help if you wanted me to. Are you seeing a therapist? Have you learned some coping mechanisms?"

"Yeah, I... I have a few."

One. Only one is what I had. Maybe two if we counted boxing. Three if we counted sex. Clearly, this was all working poorly. As for the therapist, I could not afford it, and I had always thought it was a waste of time anyway. I didn't need a therapist, I needed a time machine.

"I could teach you some of mine?" He offered, and that didn't sound patronizing or superior. It sounded just... friendly. Like he was genuinely concerned for my mental health and not using this as an opportunity to show that he was better than me.

"Maybe one day," I dismissed his offer, "but I don't want to talk about this right now. Let's talk about something else. How's New York?"

He proceeded to tell me how the beginning of his week had been. He had had back-to-back meetings with potential investors, bankers, and clients. He had not had the time to visit the Empire State Building, but he said he wouldn't have wanted to anyway. Too tacky and touristy for his taste, I presumed. He was planning to squeeze a trip to the Met, though.

Then he asked me about my week and I told him how the collaboration with his dad had been going relatively well. I obviously did not mention the part where he had groped my thigh in a very unprofessional way just the night before. Nor the part where I had let one of his best friends fuck me until I forgot my name.

"I did not expect you two to get along that well. I'm glad it's not too bad."

"Don't get me wrong, it could be much better; but I guess that, by VDO's standards, it's going okay."

"Ouch."

"I'm only speaking the truth, here. Maybe it's time for a company-wide training?  I'd call it 'how not to be a dick 101'."

He laughed a little then fell silent. I didn't say anything more either.

Until I did.

"Arthur?"

"Yes?" There was something sweet in his voice. Eagerness, maybe.

"Thank you. For listening to me, for understanding my problem and trying to help, and for distracting me with your ridiculous taste in touristic activities. I'm feeling much better now." That was the truth.

"You're much welcome, Abril. I'm glad I've been able to provide a bit of solace. Are you going to be okay?"

"Yes." I said with finality. I was going to be okay. I had to. And I was used to making all the effort it required to be okay.

"Good. Then I'm going to wish you a good day and can I please talk to my father, now?"

"Of course. Have a good day, Arthur." I clicked the button to transfer the call to the office behind me.

Only now that I had calmed down from my little episode did I realize the mayhem going on next door. I couldn't make out exactly what they were saying, but the two men in Dullac's office were yelling at each other, and I'm pretty sure I heard some nasty insults here and there. I could hear my boss's landline ring from where I sat. He was not going to answer that.

The call bounced back to me and I took it again.

"Mmh, it doesn't sound like your father will be able to take your call anytime soon. May I suggest you call back later?"

"What's happening?"

"Erm..." Was I allowed to tell him? They were family, it couldn't hurt, could it? "It looks like your father is having a heated argument with someone in his office. This person got in there right before... You know."

"I see. Who is that person?"

"A man called Lawrence Vaughn."

Arthur hissed from the other end of the line.

"What? Who is he?" I asked.

"Abril, did you even Google the name of the company you are working for?"

Oops...

At least, my inner voice was back to its usual shenanigans.

"I did not," I confessed.

I heard him sigh and imagined him shaking his head.

"Oh Abril... Do you happen to know what VDO's stands for?"

No, I did not know per se. But it wasn't hard to guess.

"Victor Dullac Ocean's," I said with the confidence of a mediocre white man talking about crypto currency.

"Wrong. It stands for Vaughn-Dullac Ocean's."

Oh. Oh!

"Are you connecting the dots?"

"I am, yes. And I have to say I'm surprised there is a world where Victor Dullac accepted that his name be the second one. I should be working at DVO's."

Arthur laughed, clearly sharing my opinion.

"Well, from what I gathered, Vaughn's contribution to the initial investment was much bigger than my father's, hence his name got to be first."

Rich men with rich people's problems...

"And so why are they fighting?" I asked. "Is Vaughn having some kind of power trip?"

"Not at all. Vaughn sold his share of the company to my father years ago. His name was removed from all official documents, the company is even officially registered under just VD Ocean's, now, and no longer Vaughn-Dullac. So people could reasonably believe it was named after Victor Dullac only, and it saved us from having to do a whole rebranding campaign. But the thing is, Vaughn wants back in. And my father won't let him."

So much drama, it was like a soap opera. And people say women are the dramatic ones...

"Is he allowed to demand his share back?"

"As far as we know, no. There is no legal ground for him to do so. But we can never be sure, he's helped build the company, he might be aware of some loophole that we're not thinking of. Our lawyers are on the case."

I thought of Sigrid. My best friend. Who I had barely seen the past couple of weeks, except for the few quick trips I'd made to borrow her mom's suits.

Stop that. Now.

"I have a friend who's graduated from USC Law School and recently got hired by a law firm. She specializes in corporate law, I could put you in touch with her, if you want."

"No offense, Abril, but we do not need an inexperienced lawyer on this case. We already have the best people working on it."

"You're doing it again," I stated.

"What?"

"Assuming she's going to be incompetent because she's young. Or because she's a woman? I'm not stupid, of course she's too much of a rookie to be working on this on her own. But she's working for this huge corporate law firm. I assume more senior partners would be overseeing the case, but hopefully they'd give her the opportunity to work on it if she were the one to bring the case. She could use the help."

"I... Erm... I apologize if I sounded dismissive of your friend. That was not my intention. What firm is she working at?"

"Müller, Bennett & Doyle LLP," I announced proudly.

Arthur properly gasped. I was gloating. You go, Sigrid!

"She's working for MBD?"

"Yep."

"That's quite an accomplishment. Please congratulate her for me. And do tell her to email me if she wants to work with us. We can look into it."

He was trying very hard not to sound too eager, to keep the upper hand. However, it was awfully obvious that he was dying to get MBD to look into their case. MBD was the biggest corporate law firm in LA, and the most efficient. Granted, all their lawyers were heartless sharks who'd sell their mothers if that won them a case, but they were excellent at their job.

"I certainly will."

"Thank you. I'll call back in a while to see how the situation with my father went. Goodbye, Abril."

"Goodbye, Arthur."

The argument in the other room was getting louder and louder. I could make out more words, now, mostly insults and swear words, but no full sentences.

Ultimately, Vaughn slammed the door open, its hinges squeaking in protest, and stormed out of the premises without so much of a glimpse in my direction. The poor man had just had his ego bruised, so it seemed.

"Lagostera. My office. Now!" Dullac called for me from the door frame, mispronouncing my name for the millionth time. At this point, he had to be doing it on purpose.

I did not correct him and followed him in his lair. He did not give us time to sit down at his desk, like he would usually do, but instead turned around and tried to intimidate me, standing all tall and upright and looking down on me with angry, deep-set eyes.

He wasn't even that tall, probably five eleven just like his son, and I wasn't that short from my height of five seven. Yet I felt like he was towering over me. Not because of his size, but because of the angry aura that emanated from him. And also because I was barely recovering from my self-loathing thoughts.

"What part of 'I don't want to see this man' was too hard for you to understand?" He asked with an accusatory finger pointed at me.

I was not going to let this man tear me a new one. I had done exactly nothing wrong. In fact, I had done more than could ever be asked of me in this job.

"And what else, exactly, would you have wanted me to do? I lied as convincingly as I could on the phone and I told him no when he showed up there. I even physically blocked him. What should have I done? Tackle him? Honestly, I would have tried, but you opened your damn door and let him in without a fight, remember?"

"You? Tackle him?" He snickered.

He had a point. Vaughn was a brick wall.

"Whatever. My point is that I did try to stop him, and there's only so much I could legally do. And you helped no-one, especially not yourself, when you just opened the door and ordered me to step aside. I will not allow you to blame me for that!"

"Joy would have found a way to kick him out. She always does."

"Then I suggest you spend more time and money training additional staff if you don't want to have to rely on temporary workers. May I remind you that I got no training for this specific job? I'm doing the best I can and I'm sure I perform better than most other temps who could have ended up here."

"I gave you one compliment yesterday and now you think you're all that? Take it down a notch, will you? You're an okay secretary but you're just a secretary."

Nope, I wasn't letting this get to me. Not this time. I could be just as nasty as he was.

"I rejected your advances yesterday and now you feel like you have to overcompensate by being an asshole to me? I can see why your wife is cheating on you."

If the day before, in the car, I had felt guilty for mentioning the cheating wife, the guilt was now long gone.

My last sentence had the merit to shut him up. Like, properly shut him up. Jaw-hanging, eyes-widening kind of speechless. A masterpiece.

Once the surprise wore off, his facial expression changed. From shocked, speechless, and bewildered, he switched to angry, determined, and... predatory? I would lie if I said his icy stare was not doing bits to my insides.

He took a step closer to me, his eyes firmly anchored in mine. Then he took another one. We were separated by only a few inches. The air he breathed was the same as the air I breathed. I took a step back. He took a step forward. Then I took another step back, retreating. For each step back I took, he took a step forward, until my back met the door that led to my office. Then he took an extra step, reducing the space between us to exactly zero inches.

I could feel the warmth of his body radiating through his shirt, then through mine, until it warmed my own skin. He placed his hands flat on the door behind me, caging me between his arms. His gaze was dark and dominating, wanting me to cower and shy away from him. But I did no such thing. I stood straight and proud and I held his gaze, ready – and eager? – to suffer the consequences of his wrath. What would be would be.

He bent over at the neck, bringing his face close to mine. I could hear his breathing. It was soft and steady, although maybe a bit faster than a normal adult at rest. Was it because he was angry or because he was... something else?

His lips were only millimeters away from mine. A tiny movement from me and we would be kissing. As he stopped getting closer, the message became clear: it was up to me to close the space between us. He wasn't going to do anything I wasn't explicitly allowing him to. And God did I want to kiss those vicious lips. I couldn't wait for him to devour me. Cheating wife who? My mind was too intoxicated by his presence to remember why this was such a terrible idea.

So I grabbed his white shirt in my fists, pulled him towards me, and closed the gap between our lips.

Except that I didn't.

The second that I moved closer, Dullac pulled back, escaping my grasp, and started laughing like a maniac.

Motherfucker!

"Who's refusing whose advances, now?" He gloated.

I was dumbstruck. I had to admit it to myself, the bastard knew how to play and he was winning this round. I could feel that my face was a replica of his a few minutes earlier, what with the jaw hanging and the eyes widening.

I was boiling with frustration and humiliation. However, I could not give him the satisfaction to show the extent of my vexation. So I went for the most unexpected reaction I could have after such a hat trick: I smiled. A small, toothless, mischievous smile. One that he wouldn't be able to read.

"Thank you," I replied before walking back to my desk.

I wasn't too sure what my plan was. I didn't really have one, except that I didn't want to see Dullac's gloating face ever again. So I had opted for the reaction that would be the least satisfying for him. Did I hope that it would unsettle him enough to want to come after me and ask for explanations? Yes. Did I care if he didn't? Not really. I would be disappointed, obviously, to lose the opportunity to have the final word, but my enigmatic response to his low blow was satisfying enough.

He didn't come after me.

I resumed my work and focused my attention on the computer screen, trying to forget about the nagging sensation between my legs. My coochie wasn't happy with the sudden rise of temperature that led nowhere, and she was letting me know.

Later in the afternoon, I went to the coffee machines to get myself a cup of tea. I picked English breakfast, my favorite. I was tempted to go to the break room and take a proper break, but the only person I could talk to, Joy, was in another state. It felt weird to just go there on my own to drink my tea, so I came back to my office.

When I entered the room, Dullac was in there, casually leaning on the floor-to-ceiling window, observing me. I ignored him and made a beeline for my desk.

But he didn't let me.

He stepped towards me, took the cup from my hand and placed it on one of the shelves that decorated this office. Without a word, he led me to my desk and instructed me to sit on it; which I did. He took place right in front of me, put his hands on my waist and, just like that, he kissed me. And I didn't reject him.

His kiss felt urgent, and desperate. Which he probably was. It was his first time committing adultery and, if my assumptions were right, it was his first time ever kissing somebody other than Mags. They'd been together since they were sixteen at least, if not younger. No wonder his kiss felt a bit manic. The man was falling apart.

I was doing nothing to stop him, though. I was enjoying it. Even though he was a one-woman man, Dullac knew what he was doing. His hands were assured and precise when they slithered in my hair, making me feel all sorts of tingles. His mouth was authoritarian and owned the room, leaving me no opportunity to show him my talent. And when his teeth joined the party, not-so-gently nibbling on my lower lip, I lost my mind a little.

The skirt of my suit soon became a hindrance. It was so tight on my body that my legs had very little range of motion. Dullac pulled it up, letting it gather around my hips, and unceremoniously spread my thighs so he could step into them.

The kiss intensified even more after that, if it was possible. His hands kneaded my thighs in a way that was sure to leave me with bruises. I already had a couple of them from the previous night.

I loosened his tie and pulled on it, bringing him to me and closing the small remaining space between our chests, then I held on to his biceps. They were large and firm, which would have been surprising if I hadn't already seen him without a shirt on my first day at VDO's. This man had to be a gym rat.

I yelped when his tongue entered my mouth. He growled at my lack of discretion and moved his right hand up to my neck, steadying me, but also subtly menacing me. 'If you don't shut up, I'll choke you until you can't make noises anymore'. That was the hidden message of his hand on my neck. I was tempted to make another sound, just to give him the opportunity to live up to his unspoken word. But I didn't have to.

When he found the piercing on my tongue, Dullac tugged on it with his teeth, causing another involuntary yelp.

He immediately broke the kiss and leaned back a bit, scolding me with his furious glare while his hand slightly squeezed my throat. I hit him back with a sheepish innocent smile that was sure to trigger his dom instincts. Which it did.

His other hand joined the first one on my throat and he brought his face to mine, our foreheads touching, our lips grazing each other without really kissing. His eyes met mine when he squeezed a tiny bit harder. I slightly nodded my head, giving him permission to go ahead.

Then the telephone ringtone startled us and he jerked away from me. It was like we'd both been electrocuted and had just come back to our senses, slowly realizing the gravity of what we'd just done.

I put my pointer finger on my lips to tell him to keep quiet and reached out behind me for the speakerphone button.

"Victor Dullac's office, Abril speaking. How can I help?"

"Hello Abril." I cringed when I recognized the voice that was echoing in the office. And so did Dullac. "It's Arthur again, are you feeling better?"

Arthur Dullac, saving the day twice in a row.

Daddy Dullac interrogated me with his eyes but I ignored him. My stomach suddenly felt like I had swallowed five pounds of lead. Arthur was calling to check on me, like a good person does, and there I was, about to screw his dad. Maybe my inner voice was right and I was a very bad person.

"Hello, Mr. Dullac," I said in a formal tone that was miles away from the friendly tone I had used with him earlier. The poor guy must be confused, and for good reason. But I couldn't let him know that his dad was there, nor could I make his dad suspicious by being too familiar with Arthur. "Yes, I am much better, thank you. What can I do for you?"

"Oh." I could hear the disappointment in his voice. He wanted to have another casual, friendly conversation with me. But I was sticking to my professional demeanor. "Good to hear. May I talk to my father, please?"

"Of course. I'll transfer you right now. Please hold."

"Thank you. Goodbye, Abril."

I did not reply and pushed the buttons to transfer the call to the man in front of me. We heard the phone ring in the other room.

"What was that about? Are you ok—"

"Mr. Dullac," I cut him off while climbing off my desk and readjusting my skirt. "Your son is asking for you on the phone."

"But I—But we..."

"Don't make him wait," I stopped him in his tracks, determined to show him that we were not going to continue what we had started.

I climbed off my desk and did my best to ignore him when he went back to his office, anger, frustration, and confusion on his face. He picked up the phone and I knew that Arthur would be paying for interrupting us.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

A/N:  Hi everyone! For once, I'm not posting this on the bus on my way back from a rugby game. To change things up a bit, I am posting from my lab, where I do my research for my PhD. Yay science, right?

Next chapter on Friday, please consider leaving a vote or a comment. Every little bit helps 🙂

Love,
Charlie.