I Like Your Shoes | ✓

Chapter 33 | Grizzlies and Pansies

[Ambrosia Bellemore]

The next day, the doubts seeped in.

What if he starts hating me? What if he ignores me completely? Was I a bad kisser? Why did he leave so abruptly? Does he regret kissing me?

It was a constant buzz in my head, and even my daily dose of caffeine could do nothing to calm me down. Freida caught up on my mood easily, and left me alone. Apparently, I became a grizzly when upset.

And the grizzly was disgruntled today.

All the way to the office, I kept drumming my fingers on the steering wheel, looking out for something, probably my mother jumping out from behind the bushes and throttling me because after I'd finally managed to get a man to kiss me, he'd run away with his tail between his legs.

I cringed. My mother would be so happy I'd landed up with a billionaire. My thought process came to a screeching halt.

Landed up? As in, together? As a couple? With Calum Achorn?

No, no, no, what was I thinking? He's my boss, and in the two months that I've been working for him, he'd never even given me a nice, chirpy good morning. He can't possibly like me! Hell, I can't possibly like him either.

Then why had he kissed me so passionately, so softly yesterday? And why in Tartarus had I kissed him back?

And why did the thought of seeing him again give me the exact same feeling I got when I ate nutella sandwiches?

This can't be right, I must be getting sick. Surely this feeling of needles and pins in my stomach is a sign of impending flu.

I should, must, can get over the fact that Calum Achorn kissed me. It was a terrible mistake, a glitch in our instincts, a lapse of our control. Or maybe, just maybe, there indeed was some chocolate on my lip.

That I never ate.

~•~

[Calum Achorn]

The bags under my eyes looked like I'd been in terrible fight, although my father had engraved in me never to indulge in activities that might bring down the name of the Achorn family.

The Achorns pride themselves for discipline, son, he used to say, back when he didn't have the germphobia, we can't go around physically harming everybody, so we harm them with our success.

Which I'd promptly translated to: The Achorns are a bunch of pansies. We can't fight to save our lives, so we sit in our expensive chairs and make money.

In my family, if you make money, no one, and nothing can touch you.

I disagreed. So I rebelled.

I swapped the classics my father bought every weekend with sappy, romance novels, even though I loathed them. I painted my room with varying shades of green, blue and red even though the rest of my house was spotlessly white. I drove a harley to college, I taught my sister how to use a gun. I partied, had various girlfriends my father never approved of over the years, travelled, had adventures, and most of all, I broke rules.

Every fundamental that my father set up for his children, I broke them down.

He kicked me out of his house when I refused to marry the CEO of a famous fashion company, and I promptly walked out. Solely for my mother, I started working at the Achorn House when I had graduated, starting from the mail room, and slowly making my way up to the top. So, you can see that I wasn't used to losing my way, I always had my priorities straight.

But I wasn't so sure now.

I don't know what unseen force compelled me to kiss Ambrosia Bellemore yesterday night, but I was sure I didn't control it. One second we were smiling at each other and the next, an erratic thought popped into my mind.

The One.

Every part of my body responded to this one thought and I suddenly wasn't in control of my own body. Before I could even process what was happening, we were already too close. And then, thoughts or no thoughts, I knew I couldn't stop myself from kissing her.

Her vibrant blue eyes, streaked with flecks of grey, looking up at me with happiness, and confusion and a tiny tinge of vulnerability was something I could never forget. My throat clogged up a little every time I thought about it, my chest thumped a little faster against my ribs.

It had been clearly obvious that I liked Ambrosia Bellemore, there was no denying it now. In fact, it was stupid that I'd been hiding from it, the evidence was right there.

But, I thought warily, there were also other complexities working against us. Apart from the fact that I have been hiding something especially major from her, I was also her boss.

How could I work with her when everytime I looked at her, a tiny bit of my heart exploded inconspicuously?

Every part of my brain protested against this distraction, advising me to forget about the infuriatingly addictive girl. Maybe I was born this way, always aiming at the next target for success, always thirsty to get to the top. Then why was it that suddenly, I was content in where I was? Why did I feel like I can live with  being second?

What changed?

Just then, a small knock sounds on the door, tentative and if I may say so, nervous. I immediately knew who it was.

Shuffling papers like I was working, I called,"Come in."

Ambrosia Bellemore walks in, and my heart drops. She was in her standard clothing, a beige shirt buttoned in a haste, pants that draped over her comfortably, and hair so windblown she could pass for a maniac. Then why did she look like a goddess to me?

"You asked for me, sir?" She asks in a low voice, her eyes everywhere but on me.

"I did, Miss Bellemore," I say, keeping my cool and not letting any of my emotions seep into my words.

"We have a trip to go to, Miss Bellemore."

Her eyes snap up to mine, questioning and curious.

"Tell me Miss Bellemore, what do you think about Venice?"

~•~

Yes! A trip!
And I know this is sort of a filler chapter, but personally, I'm very proud of it. The way the thoughts of my characters came out were perfectly accurate.
Ambrosia and Calum will see you in Venice!
Do vote. Bye!