Disloyalty

- Collision course -

This was bad really really fucking bad.

I have two options, Run. Or suck it up.

If I didn't talk to Andrew, James was going to lose his shit like usual. But the last thing I wanted was to let Andrew think he had any power over me. I wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

Straightening my fraying blazer, I took a deep breath and walked toward him. Every step felt heavier, but I forced myself forward.

I needed to show him that whatever dominating aura he tried to project wouldn't work on me. Not today.

He hadn't noticed me yet. Probably assumed I'd avoid him, that I'd run away. Idiot. I tapped him on the shoulder, and my fingers brushed against firm muscle beneath his suit. When did he get so... solid? The Andrew I knew had been lanky, all sharp elbows and careless grins. That boy was gone.

"Excuse me, Mr. Graham." My voice was smooth, professional.

He turned, and the moment our eyes met, I felt it. A jolt, like a wire snapping to life.

Damn. Up close, he was even more unfairly attractive. His jaw was sharper, his expression colder, like years had carved away every trace of softness.Not much could have prepared me for this change.

"What are you doing here?" His voice was low, controlled. But underneath? There was something simmering.

He said "you" like it was an insult, like I was out of place, well I don't fit in with the crowd but I still have the right to be here.

I swallowed down my irritation. I had a job to do. "How did Clarus start?"

His brows furrowed. "What?"

"I asked how your company started." I kept my voice steady, even as I enjoyed watching his confusion flicker to life, maybe if I just act like I don't recognise him I could get this over with.

"I don't care about your questions. Why are you here?" His patience was already thinning.

I smiled. "What's your profit margin?"

His jaw tightened.

"How do you define success?" I asked another, tilting my head just slightly. My voice was light, but he wasn't stupid. He knew what I was doing.

Andrew took a step closer, his voice dangerously quiet. "Success will be when you tell me why the hell you're here. And when you leave my building."

My smile dropped. "Look, I just need to do my job. Answer the damn questions, and I'll be gone, I know this is really unfortunate but we both knew we had it coming for us."

"I don't care about your job," he said flatly. He looked away, scanning the room, bored. "You shouldn't be here have you snuck In to stalk me or steal my money."

Rude.

The Andrew I had known wouldn't have been this cruel. But maybe I'd been wrong about him. Maybe he had always been like this, and I had just refused to see it because I had crush blindness.

I stepped closer, lowering my voice. "If you don't answer my questions, I'm going to lose my job. So just this once, could you stop being an arrogant ass and help me out?"

His jaw clenched, and for a second, I thought he might actually refuse. But then he sighed, irritated. "Fine if it makes you leave"

"How do you define success?"

"When you achieve your goals. Big or small doesn't matter a goal is a goal." His answer was robotic, detached and rushed.

"Great. Would you uh class your business as successful?"