The Things We Love and Lose

Chapter 2

Scared.

I should be scared as hell as I stood opposite to him, drinking in the ruined three pieces of his and a slightly amusing hanging at the edge of his lips. My stomach twisted in horrible pain, a dark tormenting fear rested at the bottom of my stomach.

The smile wasn't something I expected to rise on his face, the amused reaction wasn't what calmed my nervousness.

"I—"

He raised his hand in the air, leaning against the window, arching his black brow in the air. Fisting his hand in the inner pocket of his coat, he fished out a plain white handkerchief, scrubbed the cloth against his face and his steel black eyes didn't wonder from mine.

I should go.

I should run before he ordered his security guards to come and kick me out of here with no dignity left in me.

He bit his lower lip, the smile twisting and turning and at last, a laughter spurts out of his mouth and he covered his mouth with his right hand but nothing helped as his chest vibrated underneath the clothes.

And I stood dumb.

I spilled paint on him and he was laughing as if I was a joker standing in front of him. And out of nowhere, annoyance flickered on my face. How dare he laugh at me? How—

"Take a seat," He declared, taking a control of his laughter and shedding his coat.

He dropped it on the floor. My eyes zeroed on the piece of that article. Didn't he have any respect for his clothes? I got he might have a bulk of those coats but who throw clothes in their office cabin like that? As if sensing the scrutiny of my gaze, he rolled his eyes, bent to pick it up and threw it in the dustbin.

My mouth hung open.

"What?" He said in a bored tone. "It's ruined. I'm not wearing it again."

"You can dry clean it." Marching to the dustbin, I fished his coat and patted to look at the yellow spilled paint. "It's not that bad. No need of dry cleaning it. I know a perfect trick to wash it." He stared dubiously at me, sighing through his nose and snatched the coat from me.

"I have many. Don't bother." He waved his hands in the air, threw it back in the dustbin and resumed his seat.

Contemplating, I stared at the steel dustbin, filled with the coat and picked it up again. I couldn't see a piece of clothing going waste. If he didn't need it, I would wash and give it to someone else.

"I ruined it," I mumbled, taking a seat opposite to him and laid the ruined coat on my lap. He leaned back in his chair, a questioning look. "I'm sorry. I acted out of control but it was your mistake. You fired my dad."

A confusion draped over his face. "I don't even know your father." He leaned down on the table. "On a second thought, who are you? First, you slapped me, and now you're here, in my office."

"You don't know me?" I sputtered out.

He shook his head. "Should I?" He rolled his ball pen between his fingers. "What's so special about you?"

Then who the hell fired my dad? How could he give such a white lie in front of me when last night dad had come in such a furious mood?

"You fired my dad," I spat, clutching the armrest in my hands. "How could you lie about it?"

"Your dad?" He frowned, the confusion becoming prominent than before. "Miss?"

"Sanjana."

He curled his lips in a smile. "Sanjana," He rolled the word, paying too much attention at the starting rather than the end. His accent was different. Fuck, the rumours were true. He studied in abroad rather than in India and I had slapped him for insulting me. "Your dad's position?"