Shattered

Hazel (e)

Hazel
28.
"What are you still doing here?"

My head snapped up from my computer screen, the blurry pictures coming back to focus with the voice that penetrated through my office. Then, I glanced at the clock that read just a little past five, but I dreaded the thought of going home any time soon.

Mr. Wright's towering frame stood in the doorway, watching me intently with those familiar, hard eyes that gave nothing away.

With his stare, I felt my pulse skip a beat inside my chest—as it always seemed to do when I was around him—and something I didn't want to think too much about.

To distract myself from those ice green eyes, I glanced back down at the endless sea of New York apartments. In my search, Mr. Wright must have heard me on the phone.

Instantly, I thought about lying to save myself from being scolded—I had no doubts from all the glares I received today—but the part of me that made my heart pound, believed that he wouldn't snap.

"Looking for an apartment." I replied.

"Have you found anything?"

Definitely not what I was expecting. I nodded my head. "I've talked to a couple landlords, and they want me to do a walk-through sometime this week."

Why was Mr. Wright being so nice to me? If anything, I couldn't help but to think he looked a little less angry. In thought, my stare held his, searching for anything that would give Mr. Wright's mysterious mind—but there was nothing.

"Hopefully these ones are better," I added with a nervous laugh. "So that you don't have to keep saving me."

Mr. Wright didn't say anything, but this time, I noticed the look that crossed his face. It was unreadable, but it filled me with warmth as he moved closer to peer over the screen.

The silence that ensued didn't help with any of the butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

Then, "If those—If those don't work out, you can live with me."

"Or until you find one." He added.

Surprise clouded my expression, and I turned so that I could face Mr. Wright fully. It was a look that I knew he could see right through with that ever-intent stare of his, but I hardly cared.

What was wrong with me? I told myself I wouldn't think about it, but in moments like this, my racing, questioning thoughts were all I could make out. Why did Mr. Wright make me feel this way? This cold, unfriendly boss that I was supposed to hate. Instead, he kept giving me reasons not to.

"Sir, but—" I began to say, only I was quickly cut off.

"Just think about it," Mr. Wright said. "I have a spare bedroom that you can have."

Although I wanted to say more, I could only bring myself to nod. Then, just as quickly as Mr. Wright came in, he was gone.

The moment the door closed, I felt like I could finally breathe, but my mind was still racing.

Mr. Wright wanted me to live with him? He was letting me? I couldn't wrap my head around that. From what little I knew about him, I was all the more curious. What would happen if I said yes?

Then again, I wondered if it was even a good idea. After two overnight stays already, maybe living with Mr. Wright would be overstepping. What if I made an even bigger fool of myself like I did in the coffee shop?

On second thought, the thought of staying alone one more night in my apartment scared me half to death, and was dreading even going back now. How would I last a whole week?