Dexter's body tenses for a moment. "I am not gonna fire you," he declares, catching me off guard.
Relief washes over me. "Then, are you going to forgive me?" I ask, desperately hoping this all will end now.
His smirk returns. "No, I am not that kind...
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DEXTER
I know from the day I see her at my office that she is the one responsible for the unfortunate incident involving vomit on my clothes. It became a little game for me waiting to see how long she'd avoid acknowledging it.
The night she manages to wreck both my car and shoes, her hazel eyes seem oddly familiar, but her blonde hair doesn't make me think more. On the day of an important meeting, I recognize her immediately. She thinks she can elude me, but I am determined to see how long she can keep up the charade.
The elevator door opens to the floor of my office. My secretary greets me and starts reading out the schedule for the day. As I step into my office, a figure lounging on the couch catches my attention.
"You know, you have your own office to run," I quip. I move towards my desk, bracing myself for a busy day ahead.
"But I still love coming to yours to get on your nerves," he says, flashing a grin and taking a sip of his coffee.
Max Throne is one of my college friends, now one of the youngest CEOs around, and probably the most capable person I know. At first, he was once my most hated rival while we were growing up. He was the golden boy who got everything he wanted, and it annoyed the hell out of me. His life was perfect. His family was perfect, and mine was anything but. I got to know that he also had his own demons which he hid beneath his charming smile and personality, and we soon became friends.
Seated behind my expansive desk, I tap my fingers rhythmically while reviewing financial reports. "Come on, don't ignore me, and you need to loosen up," Max declares. "All work and no play make Dexter a dull boy."
I chuckle, my fingers dancing across the polished surface of the desk. "You say that as if I have time for dalliances. The empire doesn't build itself."
Max raises an eyebrow, a sly grin playing on his lips. "True, but you've got to admit, a little romance wouldn't hurt. When was the last time you went out with a girl? Claire, was it?"
"Samantha," I correct. "And it's casual, Max. No need for complications."
Max winks, clearly not buying my nonchalant demeanour. "Casual, huh? You're missing out on life, Dex."
My mind drifts to a forced date set up by my grandfather. Samantha turned out to be a spoiled brat who couldn't stop bragging about her father's wealth. The thing she didn't know was that I could make her father penniless with a snap of my fingers. All I needed to do was sell off my shares of his company.
"You know," He begins, "I could set you up with a good girl."
"From one of the bars you go to every night? No need, Max. I don't need anyone right now. I am busy handling the company." I say, pressing the button to call my secretary.
"You don't even need Lio?" He remarks, causing me to freeze.
"Don't talk about her," I snap.
"But, you still think about her. You were never serious with the girls you have been till now. You even went back to your hometown for her. So, don't pretend like she is not important to you," he states.
My dad passed away when I was eighteen, so my grandpa took care of me. Five years ago, my mom got in touch. She came to New York, wanting to meet. I thought of saying no, but I was curious about what she had to say. Maybe a part of me still cared.
She said sorry for not looking after me, for not being around, and for not standing up for me. I heard her out but didn't say much back. After a few days, she went back to Seattle. She kept texting, but I only replied to some.
She mentioned going to therapy, which seemed to help her. It gave her the courage to talk to me. I was glad she was doing better, she deserved it. Forgiving her took me three years. She wanted me to visit her in Seattle, but I kept avoiding that talk. Going back to that house didn't seem possible, but I thought about Lio.
I hoped to meet Lio again, though I didn't know where she lived or how she was doing. I even went to the playground where we first met. But I couldn't find her. I fucking don't even know her full name. Maybe she moved or got married. I thought about different possibilities, trying to avoid the worst. I spent time with my mom and then went back to New York. After that, I tried not to think about Lio too much. But a part of me still wished to meet her again someday.
"Can we just stop this conversation? And stop trying to set me up with women, I already have my grandfather for that. I have work to do, so, don't disturb me and you also have your work to do," I remind him.
As Max leans back on the couch, he raises his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. I won't mention Lio again. But you can't avoid your personal life forever, Dex."
Ignoring his comment, I delve back into the financial reports. The day unfolds with a series of meetings, calls, and decision-making.
As I step outside my office, the cool evening breeze hits my face, offering a welcome relief from the air-conditioned monotony within. My driver stands by the car, the engine humming with quiet readiness. The thought of heading home and unwinding begins to soothe my tense nerves.
But then, just as I am about to retreat into the sanctuary of my car, I see her. Liora, standing there with an air of quiet confidence, defying the norm of anonymity that city life usually demands. What catches me off guard, however, is the absence of her mask. The bold move makes her all the more intriguing.
"Why are you here?" I ask. She meets my gaze, her eyes reflecting a storm of emotions. It is as if she has something to say but can't find the words.
"I'm just here to see a friend, which is none of your business," she replies, avoiding my gaze. I can tell when she is lying; her eyes betray her, looking everywhere but at me.
"Once is happenstance, twice is a coincidence, third time's a pattern. So, are you stalking me, sweetheart?" I provocatively insinuate, watching for her reaction. She gasps, seemingly unable to believe my audacity. I know I am pushing her buttons, but I can't resist. Every time she is near, she finds an excuse to run away. I want to grab her and taste those lips, but I have to rein in those thoughts. I am not supposed to feel this way about her; I am supposed to hate her. She is lying to me. If anyone had been in her place, I would have fired them by now.
"Maybe it's the opposite. Are you stalking me, Dexter?" she retorts, her confidence hanging by a thread. Now, she is risking it.
"Maybe," I smirk, catching her off guard. Her widened eyes reveal her surprise. She didn't expect that response. It is satisfying to see those little expressions betraying her thoughts.
"Last time I checked, you wanted me to stay away from you," she says, her voice steady but laced with vulnerability. "So I guess we shouldn't bother each other. I'll take my leave now."
She turns away, avoiding my gaze, and walks towards a nearby cab. The yellow vehicle swallows her figure as she gets in, casting me one last look before drifting away into the night.
