In Your Dreams

twenty three

GISSELLE

Days passed and the usual routine of me following Dominico around and completing all tasks required of me were all that I knew once I stepped foot into the Chanes Corporal Executive Office building.

There was the usual charismatic Carter and level headed Angel always making their rounds into the office that I shared with Dominico and his hot headedness was just the same, although he did share a few laughs with me every once in a while.

I had made myself at home and Andrew made sure of it. There wasn't a day that went by that he didn't invite me out to eat lunch with him and his sons. Sometimes I'd go and other times I'd settle myself in the office with leftovers from my cooking of dinner the night before. Those times seemed to peek Dominico's interest; he'd stay with me, grabbing a plate out of the break room and we'd split the meal in half. We'd talk about everything under the sun when we had the time and his tie would loosen and those underused dimples of his would begin to make their debut, accompanying his pearly white smile.

He was still closed up within himself though. That didn't seem to be changing anytime soon. I think I wasn't expecting him to, considering the fact that if he did, I didn't know if I'd know how to respond to that. It's almost as if I forget that he is human sometimes and that beneath those cold eyes and devilish attitude, there's a heart that beats just the same as mine.

I often daydreamed about what he was like when he wasn't at work. If all of this was just a front, but then I'd think back to London and how that attitude remained, even with his father. Once that was established, I'd think about, just for a second, how he'd act as a significant other.

It bothered me when my thoughts began to roam towards that, but I just couldn't help to wonder.

Did he have a soft spot for his woman? A good side even?

"Gisselle, I need the papers for Williamson. I have a meeting with him today."

I snapped out of my thoughts once that familiar profound voice echoed throughout the room.

He stood in front of my desk, his attention was locked onto his cellphone. That only gave me more of an excuse to admire him. That same curly, black lock lying limp on his forehead, the veins in his hands overlapping one another and delighting my eyes in ways I didn't understand were possible, and for the first time in the few months that I've been working here, he gave off a new aroma, a new cologne reaked from his silk, black suit. I sniffled my nose once more to get a better whiff. If I knew correctly, I'd say it was Clive Christian No. 1, which ranged at around two thousand a bottle.

I took advantage of this opportunity to observe him more closely. His skin was flawless, a soft, butter pecan complexion. Tiny hairs peeked from the follicles that lines his wrists as well as the well designed tattoos that lined the tops of his fists and flowed down his arms. I was curious to know how many he had, where they all were.

His suit was pressed nicely, just like how it was any other day. I could imagine running my hand through it, the cool linen just leaking with richness. His sculpted stature only continued to enhance his dominion and prosperity.

"Gisselle,"

I jumped slightly, gazing into his eyes as he scanned my face.

"Williamson. I'm waiting."

"Oh right,"

I quickly opened one of the silver drawers of my desk and searched through the documents that were labeled with tabs in alphabetical order of last name. I searched through the Ws until Williamson popped up and I handed the folder to Dominico.