Chapter 3

"Ugh. Madeline!"

Sawyer's strange tone jolted Madeline out of her thoughts. At some point, her fingers had slipped into his mouth. Even with medical gloves on, her eyes widened in shock.

She shot upright and yanked her hand back. The sudden movement threw her off balance, and she nearly toppled off the chair. A firm arm cinched around her waist, and Sawyer single-handedly lifted her down.

Madeline sucked in a sharp breath, shoving him away like she had been stung. She stumbled back, clenching her teeth to keep the scream that was lodged in her throat from escaping.

Still, it was obvious that her nerves were frayed.

The way she recoiled, one would think that Sawyer was something filthy. This made his mood, which had just lifted slightly, sour again. He ground out, "What are you dodging me for?"

Madeline's heart raced with a mix of nervousness, shyness, and fluster. But more so than that, she was terrified that he would get mad, that he would think she was interested in him and had thrown herself at him on purpose. She feared he would be revolted and kick her out.

She forced herself to stay calm and to lower her voice. "I'm sorry, Mr. Holt. I lost my footing just now. Your wounds have been tended to, so I'll head back if there's nothing else."

She turned in a panic and almost walked into a wall.

The moment Sawyer heard that she was leaving, he broke into a hacking cough and weakly said, "I'm hungry. I want chicken noodle soup."

Madeline stopped in her tracks. "I'll call the housekeeping service and have them send someone over to cook for you right now."

Sawyer was nothing if not domineering. "I want you to do it."

She blinked and turned around, looking genuinely surprised.

He sneered. "Has a two-week business trip made you forget your actual job, Ms. Jamison?"

"No, it hasn't. I'm your personal secretary. Taking care of your meals and daily needs is part of my job. I'll get to it right now." Madeline spoke as she walked out of the bathroom.

She threw away the medical gloves and took off her jacket, tossing it onto a chair. Then, she scooped her long hair up and styled it into a twist.

Sawyer's taut nerves relaxed when he saw that she wasn't leaving. At the same time, the bone-deep aches and fatigue brought on by the fever crept over him. He sagged into the chair, his breathing slow and heavy.

Fred cautiously slipped out from behind the door. "Mr. Holt, should I help you to the bed?"

Sawyer lifted his head a fraction. He fixed his dark gaze on Fred through his disheveled fringe, his expression unfathomable. "How did she end up here?"

Fred hadn't expected Sawyer's mind, even with a high fever, to stay so sharp. He said, "Madeline returned today. When she texted me about work, I told her you had a fever and a—"

Sawyer cut him off. "She came back today and only told you?"

"I think so…"

Sawyer seemed to laugh. He tipped his head back, slouched in the chair, and curled his split lips into a cold smile. "Are you two that close?"

Fred wasn't sure what he was getting at, so he tested the waters. "She was just reporting to me about work."

But Sawyer wouldn't let it go. "I'm her direct superior, but she reports to you instead of me? Are you, the chief secretary, more important than me, the CEO?"

Fred was starting to sweat. "Of course not."

Sawyer lazily shifted gears and remarked, "She knew I was sick, right? Did she come on her own, or did you tell her to?"

Fred didn't dare say anything, but that was enough for Sawyer to put two and two together. Nevertheless, he stubbornly demanded an answer. "Tell me the truth."

Fred said, "I asked Madeline to come, no matter what."

Sawyer went quiet. When Fred risked a glance up, he saw the fierce look in the former's eyes, and his scalp prickled.

"Hah. Shut the door. I'm taking a shower."

Fred quickly shut the bathroom door, still feeling rattled as he headed off to look for Madeline.

Sawyer simmered as he showered. He lifted his hand and wrote Madeline's name on the fogged glass. He forced through gritted teeth, "You're hard-hearted and bad-tempered. When I find out who sent you to spy on me, I'll make you cry before I throw you out."

…

The chicken broth bubbled as fragrant steam rose from it.

Fred stood by the counter, watching as Madeline chopped vegetables. "Thank God for you, Madeline. If you hadn't happened to come back today, I wouldn't have known what to do.

"You really are the only exception, you know. You're the first female secretary Mr. Holt has ever had in his six years as CEO. He's never had them in the past."

Madeline didn't preen at the praise or the supposed honor. Fred genuinely admired her composure. He leaned in and whispered, "Mr. Holt has been even harder to predict lately. Be careful."

She chuckled. She'd seen Sawyer at his best, so no matter what he was like now, she would only throw herself into staying by his side. What was there to be careful of?

The only thing she really needed to guard was her heart so that he wouldn't see through it.

"What are you two doing?" A hoarse, cool voice rumbled like distant thunder.

Fred instinctively jerked back from Madeline. "Mr. Holt, I was discussing work with Madeline."

Madeline, seeing that Sawyer had put on a bathrobe and wouldn't catch a cold, kept quiet and continued slicing the vegetables.

Sawyer's icy gaze drifted from the smooth curve of her forearms, which was revealed by her rolled-up sleeves, and locked onto Fred. "Does a work discussion require you to be that close? Aren't you worried that her knife will nick your face?"

Madeline and Fred had been too close earlier. From Sawyer's perspective, Fred seemed a hair's breadth away from brushing Madeline's cheek. And she hadn't pushed him away.

Yet earlier, when Sawyer had merely lifted her down from a chair, she'd recoiled like he was venomous. He thought that the double standard was stark. Was he dead to her or something?

"Madeline has only worked for me for half a year. How did you two get so chummy right under my nose? Let's hear the story," Sawyer said coolly.

Fred's head throbbed, thinking that Sawyer was being more unreasonable than ever that day. "Mr. Holt, Madeline and I—"

Sawyer didn't want to hear him say anything. He waved him off impatiently and said, "Go home."

Fred swallowed his words and left without another peep.

Sawyer strolled over to Madeline. He had barely stopped beside her when she sidestepped him and moved to the cabinet to grab bowls.

He pursed his injured lips and hissed from the pain.

She whirled around to look at him. "What's wrong?"

He wasn't sure whether she was worried about him, but the knot of irritation that had coiled in his chest for days loosened a little. He asked, "What's going on with you and Fred?"

Madeline wanted to plate the food, but she didn't dare get too close since he was rooted to the spot. She was afraid she'd do something unknowingly and he'd call it seduction.

So, she moved to the sink and rinsed the already clean bowls again. "We're just normal colleagues. That's all."

Sawyer followed and stood behind her, staring at the soft, pale line of her neck. For some reason, his mouth went dry, prompting him to wet his lips unconsciously.

"Normal colleagues? The first thing you do after coming back from a trip is to inform Fred. Are you sure that's what you do with a normal colleague?"