I Like Your Shoes | ✓

Chapter 15 | What are the Odds?

[Calum Achorn]

Have you ever felt like all the air has been stolen right out of your lungs? Like a huge force has pinned itself over the general area of your chest? As if suddenly, there's not enough oxygen in the atmosphere for you to breath on?

Me neither.

To be honest, my day had been going pretty bad up until then. I had full intention of torturing my new assistant to the point where she would possibly contemplate flushing my head down the toilet.

I mean, it won't be the first time.

When the sturdy woman jumped out of the elevator, I was standing patiently behind her as she looked around her in amazement. I let her enjoy her first, albeit short, adventure in my office.

"About time." I finally interrupt her inspection.

As opposed to popular contrary belief, time doesn't slow down when she turns around. Nor do men in skirts play bagpipes behind you as your eyes meet.

When my eyes met Ambrosia Bellemore's, the music would probably be of a car skidding to a stop before a truck rams into it and presses it flat against the wall.

Not a pretty sight.

But just as the stories tell, I was frozen, locked into place. I prodded my mind for help, but all it gave me were the lyrics to Stayin' alive, which I'd listened to ten times yesterday, just because she'd told me it was one of her favourite songs.

"I'm sorry, sir. I'm new here, and I lost my way." She mumbles, twiddling her thumbs and looking at me from under her lashes.

From all the women in the world, her?

She clears her throat, probably wondering why I was staring at her like a beggar looking at a banquet table.

What are the odds?

I clear my throat and straighten my back, trying to go revert back to my real self.

She doesn't know you, dimwit. She knows Benjamin Earlswood. You're Calum Achorn, who she probably thinks is a douché bag anyway. You're her boss, act like it.

"Tell me your name."

~•~

[Ambrosia Bellemore]

Calum Achorn was a handsome man. His jaw could cut through all the grass in my lawn, his muscular body could make all the penguins in Antarctica sweat, his immensely dark brown mop of silky hair looked like they tasted like Willy Wonka's chocolates, his eyes put the jewels they were named after to shame. Calum Achorn was, indeed, a very handsome man.

But Calum Achorn was a jerk.

And, Calum Achorn made me want to flush his head down the toilet.

After I'd told him my name, which he showed next to no acknowledgement to, he asked me to fetch him coffee. With clenched fists, I give him a forced smile and walk towards the communal kitchen.

I could feel his eyes on me as I turned around and walked in the direction he'd pointed out for me. I could almost feel the smirk on his perfect lips.

Seriously? Demanding me to make coffee in less than an hour on my first day? The guy was made entirely of bossiness, cockiness and every -iness that was connected to an unpleasant word.

Fuming, I start up the coffee machine, muttering profanities under my breath.

"Aren't you the new PA?"