18+
❝ I'm a man of great restraint but seeing you like this is pushing the boundaries of my self control, so bad that I might just pin you against this wall and fuck the life right out of you. ❞
*******
San Francisco royalty, Killian Fobster is an e...
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I'd spent the better part of my morning clearing the piled-up stacks of documents on my desk. The other part consisted of planning a date that put me in a royally pissed mood because nothing was going the way I wanted it to.
What the fuck was I thinking when I'd said that in the first place?
I had rehearsed last night a thousand times since my conversation with my mother. What I'd say to her, how I'd make my plea. And I thought I'd figured it out but then this happened and I had only a few hours to plan the perfect date.
That woman was going to be the death of me; I just knew it.
I took off my glasses and tossed them on my desk. My mind was trying to narrow down a plan but nothing fit, nothing fucking fit. I scrubbed my hands over my face and I inhaled a deep breath before pressing the intercom button. "Cleo?"
I waited for her to reply or at least walk into my office but when nothing happened after a minute, I pressed it again. "Cleo?"
Another minute passed.
Was it so impossible to find dependable staff anymore?
I smacked the intercom button down harder and practically yelled with all the pent-up anger and frustration I possessed. "Cleo!"
There was no way she hadn't heard that. I drummed my fingers on my desk, waiting for her to step in so I could rain down more pent-up frustration on her but nothing happened.
With no response, I got up and stormed out of the office.
Her desk was empty.
"Mr. Fobster."
I turned around and saw the receptionist walking toward me with a stack of papers in her hand.
"My secretary. She's not at her desk."
She blinked. "She quit last weekend sir."
Did she quit?
Jesus Christ. How on earth did I forget.
"Is there anything I can help you with sir?"
I groaned. "Make yourself useful somewhere else."
She nodded and walked out of my sight. I rubbed my head, feeling a headache coming on.
"Someone's not in a good mood," My heart lurched at the familiar voice that sounded behind me.
I turned around and saw Brad narrowing his eyes at me. "You look like shit."
I expelled the breath I was holding high in my chest. "I feel like shit too."
"As you should." He drawled and walked into my office. I followed behind and sat. "Did you send the gifts?"
I was a bit skeptical about the flowers and chocolate gesture for a romantic idea because it had failed me once and I wasn't sure people still did that but all the romantic movies I watched throughout the night suggested it.
