Falling Forbidden (Unfinished)

4 Professional Boundaries

Adam

I don't think Selena would want to be at the mall, if she knew what was in those letters. But her parents didn't want to freak her out, so they spared her the details.

But I've seen them.

Roxie explained why this job pays so much, and it wasn't because Selena is the daughter of the man who owns the largest chain of pharmaceutical companies in California. She has a death threat over her head. Her parents have investigators working hard to find the people who are trying to harm her, which means as annoying as she's determined to be, I have to stay focused.

I round into the underground parking lot of the mall, stuck behind a line of traffic with other people trying to do the same thing. Worst time to go shopping, really. The whole town is here like it's a Black Friday sale.

I turn the car off and walk around to open Selena's door, but she beats me to it.

"I can open my own door, thanks." She gives me an incredulous, almost offended look.

I scowl, but let it go for now, scanning the parking lot over her shoulder. Every spot is occupied. There's a few people inside their cars, either on their phones or eating. Shopping bags rustle left and right, conversations murmuring in the distance, and car honks echoing on the other side.

"Will you be okay? Or do you need to me to hold your hand?" Selena raises a teasing eyebrow at me, studying my behavior like my paranoia is amusing her.

"Hilarious, you should be a stand-up comedian," I say with a dry voice, still distracted, and lift my palm to hover over her low back. "Stay close to me at all times."

"You wish." She struts ahead, drawing my attention unintentionally down to her hips.

Dude, for such a little thing, she sure has curves. I quickly break my gaze and stride until I'm beside her. We cross the street and reach the mall doors, and I reach my arm over her shoulder to open it for her.

As soon as we enter, we're inside the makeup department, and a mixture of perfumes being sprayed left and right hit my nose. Here comes the fucking headache. I'm glad at least Selena doesn't wear anything strong, otherwise it'd be a nightmare.

I watch as her bare, slender shoulders visibly tense, lifting slightly up to shield her neck. She wraps her arms around herself and picks up the pace, rushing to get through the crowd of sales people spritzing the perfume bottles in every direction.

She sighs in relief as soon as we're out of there, and looks left and right the wide mall.

"Do you know where to go?" I wonder.

"Of course." She forces her tone to be casual, confident. But the way she bites down on her bottom lip and the wrinkle she gets between her eyebrows say otherwise.

One of the booths that sell random crap in the middle of the mall is filled with toys that make obnoxious sounds. Selena grimaces at a squeaking unicorn that goes off like an annoying alarm.

Two guys in their early twenties check her out from head-to-toe, their eyes sparkling like she's a piece of meat as they approach. But as soon as they notice me, they shit their pants and speed-walk in a different direction. Selena doesn't notice, of course.