Jealousy

Eliana

It was official; this damn typing machine hated me. 

Its clunky keys stuck every time I pressed too hard, and the more I tried, the worse it got. “Need a hand, Miss Ashcroft?”

A tall handsome man appeared at my side with a cocky grin. Before I could say no, he leaned over me, close enough that I could smell his cologne. His hand brushed mine as he adjusted the roller. “See? You’ve got to be gentle with it.”

Why did it sound like he wasn't talking about the machine? 

I gave a nervous laugh, trying to pull my hand away, but he held it and smiled. "I have been trying to get your attention for days now, but you won't even bat an eye my way." 

"I'm sorry if it seems that way, but I didn't notice. Thank you for helping me with the machine," I said. 

"It's no problem. Can I get your phone number?" He suddenly asked. 

"My number?" I asked, startled by the question, and he nodded before adding, "Unless you don't want to." 

"I don't mind," It would sound weird if I turned him down. So while he attended to the machine and helped me print out the papers, I typed my phone number into his phone and handed it back to him.

"See you around, Miss Ashcroft." He smiled and walked away from me. 

I could feel eyes burrowing into my head from behind me but when I turned, no one was there.

I packed the papers and then headed to my office. I was just about to drop the files when I heard a knock on my door before Mr. Blackwell's secretary walked in. "Mr. Blackwell wants to see you," she said.

"Okay, thank you," I responded, and for a minute she scanned through my face with a frown before storming off, leaving my door open.

I picked up the file and then threw my handkerchief into my pocket before making my way to Mr. Blackwell's office. After knocking on the door, I waited. "Come in." 

I pushed the door open; he sat behind his desk with his sleeves rolled up, a pen in his hand as his eyes settled on me. "You sent for me, sir," I said. 

“You needed my signature, Miss Ashcroft? I was busy the other time.” A frown glaced his features as he regarded me.

What had I done?

“Yes, sir,” I managed, stepping forward to place the folder on his desk. I pointed quickly to the page where he needed to sign, careful not to meet his eyes for too long because I was still ashamed of what I did last night. 

He signed before leaning back in his chair while I picked up the folder. "Thank you, sir." 

“Do you always let men distract you during work hours, Miss Ashcroft?” He suddenly asked.

My head snapped up. Shock rattled through me. “I—I wasn’t—”

He got up from his desk, his eyes lit up with a dark glint as he stared at me. “I expect focus. Distractions are costly, Miss Ashcroft. I do not expect you to go around smiling at every man in the office.”

Oh, that was it. Was he jealous?

I concealed a smile as I nodded "Yes, sir."

When I turned to leave, my pen slipped from the file and rolled to the floor. I bent to grab it, but before I could reach, he was already there, picking it up. He rose and held it out, but when I tried to take it, his fingers didn’t release it right away. Our hands were locked together around the pen, his skin warm against mine.

I held my breath until he finally let go. “If you want to keep working here, Miss Ashcroft, I suggest you learn what it means to follow orders.”

My chest tightened, heat flooding me in places I didn’t want to acknowledge.He held the pen between our fingers, his skin hot against mine. He didn’t let go. Instead, his thumb brushed over my knuckles.

“If you want to keep working here, Miss Ashcroft…” His voice dropped, dark and rough. “…you’ll learn how to follow orders.”

My breath hitched. Orders. God, I wanted to follow every one of them if it meant his hands stayed on me.

I muttered a quick “Yes, sir,” and rushed out before my knees could give way.

By the end of the day, I was beyond tired. As usual, calls piled in throughout the day alongside text messages filled with threats. Every call made me hate Damon even more than before. Although I was able to pay some of the bills, it still was nowhere near the actual amount, and I wondered how long I'd have to live this way. 

I should have seen the signs about him, but I had been too busy taking care of Mum while battling with school, graduation, and other bills to notice that Damon was just with me to ruin me. There was still no sign of him, not one single text message or call from him, and it angered me. 

I pushed the thoughts of Damon out of my head and packed my bag, eager to just go home, soak myself in a warm bath, and go to bed, when I realized something was missing. My red handkerchief. 

I searched my desk and the drawers and even checked the cafeteria and the bathroom, but it was nowhere. That handkerchief was my lucky charm. Mum had given it to me before my finals, and I couldn’t lose it.

Then I remembered that the only place I hadn't checked yet was Mr. Blackwell’s office. I’d been there earlier. Maybe I’d dropped it when I dropped my pen. I quickly made my way to his office and then prayed that he had left since most of them had gone home. 

Just to be safe, I knocked but got no response, and so I pushed the door open and barely closed it when I heard someone clear their throat. I turned and froze upon seeing Mr. Blackwell. 

"Mr Black...well"

He sat on the couch, his jacket laid beside him, tie loosened, and the top buttons of his shirt undone as he spoke into his phone, a glass of deep red liquid in his hand. My breath caught at the sight of his chest... it was so broad, with the edge of a tattoo curling over his skin and vanishing beneath his shirt. 

The man had a tattoo too?

My stomach tightened and my thighs clenched; I suddenly wanted to take off my clothes and ask him to watch me touch myself just by looking at his eyes and naked chest. How did I ever think Damon was a man? I was wrong; Damon had been a boy. Theodore Blackwell, on the other hand, was a man, and one look at him made me realize just how dangerous that difference was.

“I’m sorry,” I stammered. “I didn’t know you were still here, sir. I was just looking for my handkerchief. I—I’ll come back for it later.”

He cut the call and raised the red handkerchief from the couch beside him and held it between two fingers. “This?”

My throat dried. “Yes.”

"Then why are you leaving without it?" He asked. 

"I...I will come for it tomorrow, sir." 

“Come here, Miss Ashcroft.” His voice was commanding, sending a shiver down my spine.

Every instinct in my body screamed at me to leave, but my feet carried me toward him anyway. He didn’t move, didn’t blink, and just watched me with those dark blue eyes as I approached. He held out the handkerchief, and when I reached for it, I couldn’t stop my eyes from dropping to his chest again, at the tattoo. 

“Do you need anything else?” His words dragged my gaze back to his face.

“Yes...no,” I whispered, clutching the handkerchief.

A small smirk curved on his lips“Close the door after you, Elia...Miss Ashcroft.”

Eliana? Our eyes met, and I rushed out, my back pressing against the door as soon as it clicked shut. Did I hear right, or did Mr. Blackwell just call me by my name? My chest rose and fell too fast, the handkerchief trembling in my hand. Shame burned my cheeks, but between my legs, I ached for him. I must be a fool, because all I wanted was for my boss, my best friend’s father to fuck me until I forgot my own name.