CHAPTER TWO

I felt my face heat up; every eye was fixed on me.

Why had he decided to make me his target today?

A couple of scenarios ran through my mind.

Glare at him and storm out. Grab the marker and hit him in the face.

But I just couldn’t.

I met his glare, pressing the power button until the screen went dark.

“Done, Mr. Lincoln.”

He kept frowning as he turned back to the monitor.

Why was he acting like he had something stuck up his ass?

I was grateful the investors’ scrutinizing looks were turned back to the building layouts across the screen, but I still felt like crap.

As the meeting went on, I kept my eyes fixed on him, not bothering to take notes.

“Since you want attention that bad, attention you will get,” I muttered.

He moved over and sat at the table, explaining the designs and execution plan. Not a single shareholder looked away from him for even a moment.

Even when the slides shifted to budget breakdowns, they remained locked in place.

About ten minutes in, our eyes met, and I sat up straighter, realizing I had momentarily gotten carried away.

I scolded myself, but he suddenly tilted his lips into what looked like a smile.

Surprised—he actually seemed less like he was about to commit murder—I looked back to make sure he was directing that smile at me.

But it kept happening again and again, each time more broadly.

Wait. Did he enjoy it when I stayed focused on him?

A chair shifted beside me. I turned to see Mr. Mark adjusting his seat.

“I’m good,” he mouthed.

I nodded faintly and looked forward again, only to see George glaring at me now.

Wait. Was he angry?

I almost laughed inwardly at my assumption.

There was no universe where George Lincoln cared whether I looked at him or not.

He was the man magazines fought over—last year's third most eligible bachelor.

Even I couldn't deny the moments I just got lost staring at him.

But sadly, I wasn’t his type. I learned a long time ago.

I tucked a strand of my black hair behind my ear, suddenly aware of everything I lacked.

I had these brown eyes that looked dull most of the time, and my chest didn’t have much going on, and I was slender. My only strong point was having a pretty hourglass shape.

Well, the problem with George wasn’t actually looks.

He appeared with different kinds of women—tall, short, slim, or thick. He liked highly influential women. The kind who walked into places like this building and made people stand straighter without even knowing why.

After he employed me, I made the mistake of reaching out to shake his hand. God, was I embarrassed. He looked at me like I was the most disgusting thing on the planet.

I made peace with it, and since then, our relationship has been strictly professional.

He finished the last part of his presentation, and all the shareholders agreed to his proposal, ending the meeting with loud applause.

Everyone started talking at once, conversations blending, and I began gathering my things.

George was speaking with one of the shareholders, so I picked up his cold coffee and left.

A hand snaked around my waist, making me squeal as I turned.

“Hey, calm down! I didn’t mean to startle you," Mr. Mark laughed, finding my reaction funny.

I let out a breath and pressed a hand to my chest. "Sorry... I didn’t notice you."

He nodded but still didn’t let go.

I took a step back to create space.

"I’m sorry,” he said. “Your CEO was pretty hard on you earlier.”

"It’s fine."

“It didn’t look fine.” His voice softened. “That must’ve been embarrassing.”

It was.

But I just smiled. “I’m used to it.”

“Let me make it up to you,” he said.

“Lunch. Don’t say no. I’ll bring you back right after, I promise.”

I hesitated for a second, then nodded. “Okay.”

“Good. I’ll pick you up during break.”

He left, and before I could stop it, a small smile slipped onto my lips, and I did a little happy dance in my head.

“Jasmine!” George’s voice cut short my excitement.

"Sir.” I started, startled.

I turned to face him, only to find his eyes narrowed at me.

"Do you need something, sir?” I asked.

He just kept staring.

I swallowed hard, grabbed my things, and exited the boardroom.

Shareholders moved in and out of the building, some greeting each other and mentioning family and money.

I started heading to my office.

To my surprise, George caught up with me and grabbed my wrist.

I let out a yelp as the force pulled me back a step. “Mr. Lincoln—”

“Why were you being so unprofessional?”

My brows furrowed.

Unprofessional?

I tried to pull my hand free, but his grip tightened.

It was suffocating.

The shareholders were still filtering out, and I could see a few of them glance our way.

“I wasn’t being unprofessional, sir.”

“Then what were you discussing with Mark during the meeting?” he pressed. “Was it about the company?”

The smile disappeared from my face.

“He asked me out to lunch,” I said, exhaustion creeping into my voice.

“For a friendly lunch,” I added, meeting his gaze this time.

His grip loosened. Then vanished entirely.

He said nothing. Just turned and walked away.

I stood there for a moment, my wrist still warm where his hand had been.

My heart was pounding faster than it should have.

I exhaled sharply and headed toward my office.

He definitely has bipolar disorder.

By the time I sat down, the building had settled into its usual rhythm.

I opened my laptop and pushed myself into work mode. Emails. Reschedules. Cancellations.

My eyes flicked to the clock again.

Once he leaves for lunch with his stepmother and sister…

A small smile tugged at my lips.

I couldn’t wait to get home and tell my best friend, Ariel, that Mr. Mark had asked me out.

She would scream.

A gentle knock came on my door, and it opened. Stella, the head of the sales department, entered with a stack of files.

“You’ll take these documents to Mr. Lincoln for approval.”

I nodded, indicating a spot for her to place them.

Minutes passed before I finally closed my laptop and reached for the files.

I picked them up and headed to his office.

I knocked once and stepped inside.

I dropped the documents on the desk and turned to leave when he ended his call.

“I want a full report on all ongoing projects. Budgets, timelines, delays.” He then added, “Before twelve.”

I blinked.

“Before twelve? That’s not even my job. I’ll get Mr. Sam—”

“Mr. Sam isn’t available.”

“He is,” I said, turning slightly. “I saw him this morning.”

George walked around his desk and picked up a box.

“These are the projects we have going on.”

The weight hit me immediately, and my shoulders dipped before I could stop it.

“Sir…” I groaned. “I’ll use the system. It’ll be faster.”

“The systems are down.”

His phone started ringing again.

“And I need it before twelve,” he insisted.

I stood there, trying to process everything. It was too much.

Then I turned, kicked the door open with my foot, and stepped out, balancing the box carefully.

I set it down briefly outside his office to adjust my grip.

No way was he expecting me to do the project manager's work, especially with files that looked like they hadn’t been touched in months.

The elevator dinged. I stepped out, readjusting my grip again.

Anna looked up from the front desk as I passed, her eyes widening slightly before she quickly looked back down.

I almost laughed.

It looked exactly as bad as it felt.

I pushed into Mr. Sam’s office and dropped the box onto his desk with a dull thud.

It was empty.

I hissed. He truly wasn’t there.

Shoot.

“Jasmine!”

I turned. Stella leaned against the doorway.

“Did you give the files to the boss?”

“Yeah,” I said, exhaling. “Where’s Mr. Sam? He should have all this on his system.”

“The systems are down,” she replied casually. “The engineers are working on it.”

I stared at her.

“Then where is he?”

She shrugged. “Boss told him to take the day off.”

I blinked.

“Just go and chill,” she added casually before walking away.

I let out a quiet breath and looked down at the box.

Chill.

George Lincoln was definitely trying to ruin my day.