SHARING EMMA [18+]

4. Excitement and Anticipation🔥

|EMMA|

For the next three days, I only see Carlos walking past my glass cubicle. Something is up with him, but I can't tell what. He is not ignoring me; it's obvious by the way he makes sure to call me at least once in the workplace and once to make sure I reach home safely.

It's just that something seems to be on his mind, and he looks rather troubled because of it. I might have known Carlos Kingston for only four months, but I could tell you firsthand that he wasn't exactly the brooding type or the one who liked to keep everything to himself.

No. Carl was definitely not the stereotypical boss you'll often come across. He was charming, and he liked to talk about his days and nights. Not in a way to gloat over his wealth and power, but to just...talk, you know, to let it all out. There were days when he would shut everyone out and pour himself into work, spending long hours in the office and becoming annoyed more frequently than not, but that was mainly due to the stress of work and the inefficiency of some of the individuals with whom he had placed his trust.

Carl hates to be disappointed. But then again, I believe that's everyone.

On the fourth day, I had enough of his bad mood, so I collaborated with his assistant to make sure he was free during lunch, ordered food from his favorite Chinese restaurant, and helped myself into his office with food in my hand.

Carl only looks up briefly from his laptop at me before diving back into work. It's only when I make a plate for each of us and bring them to the table that he lifts his head and takes a deep whiff of the fragrant spices that suddenly flood the air.

He throws a lazy grin at me as he sags back in his chair and loosens his tight shoulders.

"Emma Wilson," he says my name almost seductively, his dark eyes pinned on my ass as I walk over to the cabinets in the small spare room and return with two beer cans. "You have no right to be so perfect, do you know that?"

I chuckle and collect his laptop and put it aside, pushing his plate in front of him and handing him the fork. "And yet you think I am, don't you?" I say with a little dramatic sigh, and that earns me a little husky laugh from him.

At least, he is not stressed right now. I love that I have this effect on him and that he doesn't make too much fuss over the fact that sometimes I like to pamper him with food and, well, other things.

"It's hard to ignore what's right in front of me," he teases, but it only comes out halfheartedly. Now, I'm more than sure the deep, tense lines on his forehead are not because of the workload. Something else is going on here. Something that I don't know, and I pause to think for a moment about whether it's my place to ask. If it was work-related, he would have told me. But he hasn't. And it makes me wonder...

"Can I ask you something?" He is halfway through his plate when I ask.

"Of course, sweetheart, what is it?"

I chew the words in my mouth, hesitant to let them out now that I have his attention. What if he thinks I'm overstepping? Or that I should mind my business? If it's something personal, it would surely make things awkward between us. Is it worth putting everything on the line merely to satisfy my curiosity? I like what we have—this electric chemistry that buzzes through my bones whenever we are together—and perhaps that's why I'm afraid to lose it by bringing up the sour subject.

But then again, I do care for him. He wouldn't think I'm being clingy, would he?

When I don't say anything for a long minute, still trying to make up my mind, Carl takes my hand in his and gives it a gentle squeeze.

"Hey, where did you go?"

I wake up from my thoughts and shake my head. "Oh, nothing. Sorry, I got distracted. What were you saying?"