His Butterfly

Chapter 12: Strangling My Best Friend

I would like to express my heartfelt gratitude to every one of you who has taken the time to read my story and show your support through voting. Your appreciation for my work brings immense joy to my heart. However, I must address a matter of utmost importance. I sincerely apologize for the delay in updating the story. I found myself grappling with the direction I wanted this particular chapter to take, which caused the delay. Once again, I extend my sincerest apologies for any inconvenience caused.

Avery's POV

"Avery, I am well aware that you didn't hang up on me last night," Emily asserts, her gaze fixed upon me as she stands by my desk.

"Of course not, Emily," I reply, just as Reese summons me into his office.

"We're not finished discussing this," Emily shouts at me, moments before I close the door behind me. My nerves are on edge as I stand before Reese's desk, his intense stare adding to my unease.

"Did you attend the ball on Friday night?" Reese asks me once again, his question echoing for the third time.

"Of course I did. It's not as if I had a choice in the matter, did I?" My frayed nerves wreaked havoc on my body, the mere presence of this man taking its toll.

"Well, I didn't see you there!" Reese retorts aggressively, his voice carrying a hint of authority.

"I suppose you're right, considering everyone at the ball was wearing masks," I respond, exhaling a sigh of relief upon realizing that my job was not in jeopardy due to my ill-advised encounter with my boss. Reflecting on my initial fear of facing him, I question why I was so apprehensive in the first place, considering he rarely paid much attention to me, let alone notice how I would appear in provocative attire.

"Nah, I highly doubt you attended, given your track record of skipping our annual company gathering every year," he remarks dismissively. "And let's not forget your distinctive fashion sense, which would have easily given away your identity, regardless of any mask you wore." He scrutinizes me for a few moments, shaking his head vigorously from side to side.

I had the urge to confront him about his apparent disdain for my fashion choices but held back for fear of jeopardizing my job. The very same job I would most like to lose once he find out that it was me he slept with on Friday night. "Is there any other reason for calling me into your office, Sir?" I observe him pinching the bridge of his nose and tightly closing his eyes. I've come to recognize this as a sign of mounting frustration or anger, which strangely only seems to occur when I'm present.

"I called you into my office to inform you that we'll be leaving in approximately thirty minutes," he mutters, rubbing his temples in a circular motion. "You may now go," he adds, simultaneously walking over to the window and gazing outside.

My gaze traveled up and down his figure, starting from the crown of his head and descending to his feet, only to ascend again to his broad back. As I stood there, observing Reese, the struggle to resist the urge to touch him intensified. Simultaneously, my panties grew damp, and my longing for his touch became unbearable. Realizing that my desires were overpowering my rationality, I hastily retreated from his office.

Sitting behind my desk, I pondered, "How could I possibly feel aroused while he's busy insulting me?" I fanned myself with my hand, attempting to cool down the heat that consumed me. Frustrated, I muttered to myself, "Damn it, how am I supposed to endure a five-day trip with Reese in this state?" Despite my efforts to calm down, the method that had worked since I left Reese alone and exposed in his hotel room seemed ineffective.

Lost in my thoughts, I collided head-on with Brendan, causing him to drop everything he was carrying, scattering documents across the floor.

"Whoa, Avery, where were you just now?" Brendan sarcastically quipped as he knelt to retrieve the scattered papers.