Chapter 5: What Was She Thinking?

Scarlet should have known better than to argue with him. The only thing he knew how to do best was undermine her work like some maniac.

He's so infuriating! Goodness, what she would give for the day to go by quickly!

“I did exactly as you asked, Mr Alton.” She said, trying to stay calm.

Alton leaned back in his chair, arms folded, eyes fixed on her with a look that made her skin prickle.

“That’s not what I asked for,” he said calmly.

Scarlet exhaled through her nose, keeping her voice even. “You asked for revised projections based on the investor’s feedback. That’s what this reflects.”

He tilted his head slightly, gaze never leaving her face. “No. I asked for projections that anticipate objections. This does not.”

“It does,” she countered, unable to stop herself. “If you look at page twelve, I accounted for the liquidity concern they raised and adjusted…”

“I know what’s on page twelve,” Alton interrupted.

Her jaw tightened.

She stood across from his desk, tablet clutched in her hands, posture straight but tense. She had been in this position countless times before, defending her work, correcting assumptions.

But this time felt different. Not because she was wrong, she knew she wasn’t and he's just being a dick as always.

Alton’s eyes flicked briefly to the tablet in her hands, then back to her face. A faint curve appeared at the corner of his mouth.

“Relax, Red,” he said. “You’re getting worked up.”

That did it.

‘This bloody…’ Scarlet cursed internally.

“I’m not worked up,” she replied, heat creeping up her neck despite her efforts to remain composed. “I’m explaining the logic behind the data. If you want it done differently, say so. But this is very much sound.”

He leaned forward slightly now, forearms resting on the desk, attention narrowing in a way that made her acutely aware of the space between them.

“You always do this,” he said mildly.

“Do what?”

“Assume I’m questioning your competence.”

She stared at him. “You are.”

“No,” he corrected smoothly. “I’m questioning your approach.”

Her fingers tightened around the tablet. “There's a difference?”

Urgh! What she would give to wipe that smirk off his face!

His gaze lingered on her face longer than necessary, as though he were registering her reactions rather than engaging in the conversation.

“You tell me,” he said.

Scarlet felt her pulse quicken, irritation curling low in her stomach.

“If you’d actually let me finish a sentence,” she said, unable to keep the edge out of her voice, “you’d understand why this approach works.”

Alton’s smile widened, just slightly.

“There it is,” he murmured.

Her brows knitted. “What?”

“You’re fired up,” he said, tone almost amused. “It’s interesting.”

That made her pause.

“What’s interesting is that you asked me to do this,” she said sharply, gesturing to the tablet, “and now you’re acting like it’s not good enough.”

His smirk widened. Scarlet inhaled, forcing herself to step back mentally, to remember where she was and who he was.

Her boss.

The man who signed her paychecks and could fire her ass if she wasn't careful..

“Sir.” She added as though that would soften the blow of her words.

She lowered her gaze briefly, then met his eyes again. “If there’s a revision you want, I’ll make it. But I need clarity.”

Alton studied her in silence for a moment, his expression unreadable.

“Leave it as it is,” he said. “We’ll revisit after the next review.”

She blinked. “That’s it?”

“For now.”

A quiet frustration settled in her chest, mixed with something else she didn’t want to examine too closely. She forced a smile, her grip tightening on her tablet.

“Fine,” she said, turning on her heel before he could see anything else on her face.

“Red.”

She stopped, her shoulders stiff.

“Yes?”

He looked at her with that same faintly amused expression, his voice deceptively calm. “You know how I want things done. Don't forget that..”

Her stomach twisted.

She nodded once and left the office without another word.

By the time she wrapped up for the day, Scarlet was exhausted.

Her mind replayed her conversation with Alton, the way his attention had lingered on her reactions rather than her arguments, the unmistakable sense that he had been deliberately pushing her buttons.

When she stepped out of the building, the sky was already dimming in the early evening, and she breathed in deeply, grateful for the cool air.

She was halfway down the steps when she heard his voice.

“Red.”

She turned.

Alton stood near the curb, keys in hand, jacket draped over his arm.

“I’m heading your way,” he said. “I’ll drop you off.”

“Oh, I…” she started, instinctively.

“Get in,” he added, already moving toward his car. “It’s late.”

He didn’t wait for her answer.

Scarlet hesitated, irritation flaring as she followed him, telling herself it wasn’t worth the argument. It was just a ride. Fifteen minutes, maybe twenty.

The drive was quiet.

No radio. No small talk.

Just the hum of the engine and the occasional sound of traffic passing by. Scarlet stared out the window, her thoughts tangled.

Is he going to talk about the picture again? Is that why he offered to drop her off at home?

Her heart started to race. Hell, she didn't even think of that before accepting his ride! Scarlet shuts her eyes, biting down on her lower lip.

When they pulled up in front of her building, she exhaled softly in relief.

“Thanks,” she said, reaching for her seatbelt.

It didn’t release.

She frowned and tugged again, harder this time. Still nothing.

“Great,” she muttered under her breath. Just when she's trying to get as far away as possible from this man.

Alton leaned across the center console, his shoulder brushing her arm. His proximity hit her all at once, the warmth of him, the familiar scent of his cologne.

Her breath caught.

He reached for the belt, his fingers brushing dangerously close to her hip as he worked the mechanism. The confined space amplified everything, every small movement, every shallow breath.

She turned her head slightly, intending to look anywhere but at him, and found her face inches from his.

Time seemed to slow.

His eyes flicked to her lips, before returning to her eyes. The intensity of his gaze made her chest tighten, her pulse thudding loudly in her ears.

For a moment, she forgot to breathe.

She didn’t move. Neither did he.

The space between them felt charged, heavy with something unspoken. Her body reacted before her mind could catch up, eyes swinging shut.

Alton stared at her, shocked until a chuckle escaped his lips. The seatbelt clicked free.

He leaned closer to her ear, “Get your mind out of the gutter, Red.”

Heat flooded her face as her eyes flickered open. He leaned away from her, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I wasn’t…” she said quickly, already reaching for the door handle.

He chuckled softly. “Sure.”

Mortified, Scarlet pushed the door open and stepped out, the cool night air hitting her like a splash of water. She didn’t look back as she shut the door.

“Good night,” she said stiffly.

“Good night, Red.”

She hurried into her building, heart racing, her mind spinning with embarrassment and confusion as his car pulled away behind her.

Inside her apartment, she leaned against the closed door, pressing a hand to her chest, trying to steady her breathing.

What had she been thinking?

She pushed away from the door and moved further inside, refusing to dwell on the answer. Whatever this was, whatever tension had begun to coil between them, she needed to keep her distance.

Because if she didn’t, she had the unsettling feeling that Alton Donovan would take exactly what she offered.