14

THEA

My head is still foggy from the night of the gala. I count the hours it took me to stop thinking about him, about how his body had pressed against mine, how his breath had fanned my skin, or how he'd dipped his nose in the crook of my neck, breathing me in.

Hell, even my own body betrayed me, reminding me Sebastian didn't touch me for two months pre the divorce. Maybe that was why I was so… frantic. Maybe that's why I'd touched myself.

And I hate myself for it. Because when I came down from the high, he was the one I'd pictured. Not Sebastian.

Okay, Monday is here now. And self pity doesn't pay the bills. Nor did becoming entangled with your boss. It's a recipe for disaster.

I walk into Mr Harrington’s office, my hand clutching a brown folder, heels clicking against the tiled floor. Nora's already at the lounge area, tablet in hand. She lifts her head and offers me a small nervous smile.

He's by the wall-to-wall window, arms folded, belt perfectly aligned with his trousers and crisp white shirt. He glances at me, his eyes tracing my body, just long enough for my pulse to skip a beat and for heat to pool low in my belly. Then, he turns back to Nora.

“Have you cross-checked the Q2 projections against H&V’s forecast?” He asks.

Nora blinks. “Almost done, sir. Just need Thea's final edits on the Asia and EU file.”

I clear my throat as I reach the leather one seater chair. “Give me two minutes.”

Nora and I exchange a quick look as I settle into the chair and peel the folder open before carefully slipping the printed paper out.

I place it on the table just as a sharp rap on the door jolts me.

“Mr Harrington? I… a lady is here to see you…” A breathless assistant says, clutching the cloth over her chest. “She said she's Montgomery.”

My eyes dart to him just to see his jaw tightening. “Isla?”

At that moment, the door slams open, followed by heels clicking against tile.

White glowing skin. Six inch Yves Saint Laurent heels. Leather mini gown that clings to her curves. Sleek bun. Slim. And drop dead gorgeous.

Gosh. She looks like a model.

“Ezra.” She breathes, voice smooth like silk.

“What are you doing here?” Come his response.

My eyes dart between them before landing on Nora. She's stiff like stone.

“Ohh, surprised I would survive?” She asks with a sneer.

He turns to us, jaw still clenched. “Ms. Carlisle, Ms. Smith. Excuse us.”

I gulp audibly before dropping the file. Then, I grab Nora's arm and drag her out of the office before shutting the door, cutting off the sound of their voices.

“What the hell was that?” I ask in confusion. “Who's she?”

Nora's gaze flits to the door before she pulls her arm away from mine and let out a sigh. “That was Isla Montgomery. His ex wife.” She grumbles.

I blink. “Ex-wife?”

She nods, her lips pressed together in a thin line. “They were… involved a long time ago, I read. But things ended badly. She didn't take it well apparently.” She says. “I thought she was gone for good.” She adds with a hiss.

“I didn't know he was married.” I mutter to myself.

And why would I know. I never searched about him. I didn't even have time for that. I'm either working, having an emotional breakdown, or trying to sleep.

“Of course he was. She's a model and she's from way back in Asia.” She continues.

Then, she dips her hand into her suit and pulls out her phone.

She types something in it and brings the screen closer to me.

“See. Her modelling agency said she was on overseas transfer. But there are rumours that it was a health scare.”

I nod. But I can't even see the screen. The gears in my head were turning, trying to connect something.

“Health scare and overseas transfer?” I ask.

She nods. “Yes. I don't know why she's here though. Maybe they are getting back together, who knows. But I'm just sad. That will cut down my chances. First you, now her.” She says with a huff.

I say nothing as I lean against the wall, refusing to overthink anything. Afterall, why should I care? Because of the elevator scene? The gala? Or because he's been in my personal space lately? No.

Nora continues mumbling about how she can't have him to herself now that she's back but I'm not even really listening.

Some minutes later, the door swings opens again and we both stand straight. I wipe my sweaty palm against my skirt.

And this time, only Isla steps out of the office, her heels clicking with rhythmic confidence. Her eyes meet mine. They are red. She's wearing contact lenses, scanning me like I'm some puzzle she's trying to solve.

“You are Thea Carlisle right?” She asks, head tilted to the side, eyes taking me in.

“Yes?”

She chuckles and strides toward me. I'm tempted to take a step back because even with her standoffish look, she looks menacing and pale. Too pale. But I don't. I won't give her the satisfaction of thinking she's intimidating me even though I feel a chill crawling up my spine.

Maybe the health scare Nora talked about was real.

She stops just a few meters away from me. My eyes dart to Nora who's trying to blend with the wall while avoiding my gaze. Great.

“His new woman.” She murmurs, lips curled in a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. “I don't know what he sees in you though…”

I stiffen.“There’s nothing between us.” I say, my voice coming out snappier than intended.

She clicks her tongue and takes a step closer. I instinctively take one back. “Or…” she wanders off, her eyes searching mine. “Are you an Aureate?”

“Aureate? What the fuck is that?”

She doesn't answer. Instead, her eyes linger on me for a moment too longer before she shakes her head and turns away from me.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, watching her walk down the hall, my heart still pounding in my chest. I try to shake off the unease. Then, she stops and glances at me over her shoulders.

“Watch yourself sweetheart. You are not his type. He likes his women more… compliant.”

My heart pounds in my chest but my voice comes out steady as I fire back, heat rushing to my face, “Don't get anything wrong. I'm not interested in your leftover.”

She gives a tight amused laugh and walks away.