Tall, Dark and Handsome

chapter 22

I stared up at him and felt myself step backwards. Even the distance between us was not far enough for me to feel comfortable underneath his heated gaze. He looked livid. Finally, for what seemed to be an eternity, he blinked and stepped out of view, withdrawing back into the meeting room. I clutched the handles of my purse tighter, fighting back the tears pressing behind my eyes. I must not cry in public. I must not cry in public. I repeated to myself in my head.

"Something tells me that I'll talk to you soon." And with that, the black car parked beside me drove off, slipping into late afternoon traffic seamlessly, leaving me alone standing on the road.

I'll explain everything. I'll explain what happened and he'll understand. I reasoned with myself as I walked down the street, eyes trained on the Starbucks in front of me. I was beyond grateful when I saw that the baristas behind the shiny counter were working diligently, pouring drinks and fulfilling orders as more and more customers filed in. With two steaming lattes in hand, I quickly walked back towards the daunting building and prayed silently that the meeting had gone well and his temper wasn't as bad as before I left. But by the time the elevator doors opened, I felt the tiny hairs on the back of my neck rise when I spotted everyone with their heads down, an unsettling feeling lingering in the massive office space. The empty meeting room confirmed the worst of my fears.

"Do you know where Mr. Hiddleston is?" I asked a petite brunette dressed in a hideous red skirt and baggy blouse that was passing by. I saw her flinch at the sound of his name.

"He's upstairs." She answered quietly. "He stormed off as soon as Mr. Kensington left."

He stormed off? "Do you know what happened in the end with the meeting?" I pressed on. Why was everyone so nervous and edgy?

"Mr. Kensington decided to pull out." She said, voice shaking. "Sorry, but I have to go back to work." The brunette quickly walked away, not answering any more of my questions, returning back to her cubicle.

Mr. Kensington decided to pull out. Her voice repeated inside my head and then a familiar crisp toned voice followed. What happens when they pull out? Then we're in deep trenches, maggot.

Dropping the lattes into the trash can nearest to me, I practically ran down to the bank of elevators, pressing the button to our floor. I ran a hand through my hair, refusing to believe that everything was falling apart in a matter of hours. This was all proving to be more than I could mentally handle. First, I learned that his mother had an affair with one of his mates from school and then nearly robbed a poor man through a divorce. And because of stubbornness, enemies are now forming at his door and tearing down his expansive empire. And on top of all that, I was finding myself to be another one of problems on his already extensive list of problems. I could only imagine how he was feeling right now. My heart ached at the thought of him worried that his company was going down. When the elevator cart finally arrived, I ignored the ringing phone on my desk, making a beeline towards his office. I didn't bother to knock on his door but instead barge in, wanting nothing more than to see how he was reacting to all this. Breathless and a little bit sweaty, I was muddled with confusion and disappointment at the sight of another empty room. His office was tidy and as immaculate as ever. Not a misplaced piece of paper anywhere near his desk and his windows that displayed the beautiful sights of the city gleamed and shined like it was just washed recently. Slowly approaching his desk, I frowned as there was no clue to where he had gone to. Where could he have gone?

By five o'clock, I had finally decided to throw in the towel. I wasn't anywhere near being as productive as I used to be. Every time I drafted an email response to a client, the sentences would come out incoherent and sounding like I was a fifth grader. I sighed deeply in my seat as I looked on at the bank of elevators in front of my desk, wondering when he would come back. He hadn't bothered to leave me a message and nor did he turn on his phone. When I called John to ask if he knew where his arrogant stubborn boss was, John had only grunted that he had took his car out of the garage after returning home via taxi and drove off without a word. I was feeling slightly nauseous as possibilities of what could have happened to him during these hours ran through my mind. I knew he had a need for speed whenever he drove. Could he have gone into an accident? Could he have crashed somewhere with no one near him and therefore, no one to save him?