The Living Statue

20.

A strangled sound from the dephts of Mr Torres' throat reverbareted through the office. For a second, I thought he might suffocate. He must've regretted not grabbing a glass of water as I'd suggested.

The blissful words 'I told you so' bided at the tip of my tongue, but I decided against spilling them. I assumed my dear employer wasn't in the mood for my clever remarks.

Naturally, he retrieved himself quite quickly, and the statuish facade was back on his chiseled face within seconds. "And what exactly this conpensation requires?"

I straightened my back and tried pulling off a dead serious expression. Needless to say, I failed. "Well, the list of options is endless, but I was thinking about a pay raise and a permission to take pictures of the landscape behind you, Sir."

Another strangled noise left him.

My, my...this is the closest he's gotten to a reaction. I should make such propositions more often.

"Are you telling me, Miss Griffin, that you are asking for privileges based on the fact that you were doing your job?" I opened my mouth to confute his point of view, but was cut off by one, raised, admonishing finger. "The job you've done poorly, might I add."

Poorly? Poorly?

Doing my job my arse! My job was not to kiss him! I could've asked for something much worse, but he's making a scene for nothing! Ungrateful wanker!

Within seconds I was up on my feet, leaned on his desk with both of my palms. If we were in some virtual dimension, fireballs would've been flying from my blazing eyes and towards an asshole before me. "My job is to sit here and do the paperwork, not go around kissing you, Sir!"

His palms slammed against the desk with a caveman ferocity, just when he jumped to his feet and leaned forward, his posture  mirroring my own. "Your job is to do as I say! As long as you're under my employment, you are obliged to jump off the rooftop if I say so!"

I laughed. It was an ironic, poisonous laugh - a reaction that helped me restrain myself from jumping over the desk and throttling him with bare hands. "Funny! 'Cause I don't remember that being said in my employment contract!" I yelled back, my chest rising and falling with every frantic breath I took.

I have a genuine suspicion he wanted to throttle me just as badly. "My employees are at my service no matter what, and if you aren't aware of the fact maybe you don't deserve this employment after all," he said, more calmly. The blaze in his eyes, however, wasn't calm at all.

"What I deserve, Sir, is a reward for surviving such a traumatic experience you'd exposed me to!"

There was a beat of silence. Then, leaning forward, he planted his face centimeters away from mine. He was so close, I could see the way gray was flowing into blue around his hypnotising pupils. I could see every little mole on his face, count every silky lash above those stormy orbs.

You'd think that seeing his face this up close would've provided me with the opportunity of finally finding a flaw. But I found nothing. Nothing that would've ruined his perfect image in the slightest bit. And the fact made me even more pissed. It should be illegal to be this perfect! He should look like a big, fat troll with cheese teeth and nonexistent eyebrows, but there's no justice in this world! No justice at all!

And his voice. Christ, I could listen to him reading a phone book for the rest — no — no way! Pig-headed, wankerish dipstick!

But it was really hard to concentrate on the words of hatered in my head with those blazing eyes piercing through me, savoring the sight in front of them. His gaze was kissing every feature of mine with an unexpected tenderness, and for a second I thought he might kiss me with something else beside his eyes. Then, "Oh yes, traumtic indeed. Because you look so traumatized."

Stop! Stop right there!

Holy moly macaroly, did Mr Bloody Statue Torres just use sarcasm?!

The raindrops might as well turn into flying pigs, for it is the most peculiar day I've ever witnessed.

He took my silence as the opportunity to go on, "You know, Miss Griffin, for me discussions are like night clubs. Not something I tend to enter into. I assure you, these will be my last words on the topic." He paused, even as his eyes narrowed infinitesimally. "Either accept the fact that this job requires a lot more than sitting in an office and making inventories, or quit. Take it or leave it, and stop wasting my time."

I exhaled an immense puff of air through my nostrills.

Truth is, I didn't give a flying fig about taking pictures of the beautiful landscape or the stupid pay raise for that matter. I just wanted to make sure that the kiss never happens again. To prove that I didn't enjoy it, that it meant nothing. And just the tiniest bit I wanted to irritate him. But now I was furious, and the desire to annoy him started increasing with each word he said.

"Is that so? A lot more, you say?"

Sidestepping the desk in two, long strides he planted himself right in front of me. The short distance of aproximately one meter separated us. "Yes, Miss Griffin. A lot more," he hissed back.

My chin was high as I stared insolently into his dark irises. "Does that stands for me solely? Because I don't remember any other employee kissing you."

He stepped forward, closing the little space there was between us. "I don't remember any other employee being female. Believe me, if I had more options, you would've been my last choice."

Ouch.

"Then you will be releived to hear that the feeling is mutual, Sir," I spatted, pronouncing his 'title' with nothing but pure revulsion.

Ha! Like I would ever want to be his first choice! He can stick all of his stupid choices up that tight arse of his!

He seemed to catch my words with no less resentment than surprise. I could say he was struggling for the appearance of composure, and wouldn't open his mouth until he was sure he attained it. "Good," he said through gritted teeth at last.

I felt like gnashing my teeth, or breaking all of his, one by one. Couldn't really make up my mind. "So I assume it won't happen again?"

"If you are referring to an action that appeared so obnoxious to you, Miss Griffin, feel at ease. I have no intention in repeating the history," he said calmly.

So one second he's boiling with anger and the next he's calm as if we are discussing the weather?

How typical.

My muscles tense, and yet my perfectly practiced smile slips upon my face. I will not show any emotion. I've shown enough. "Well, that's just marvelous. Lovely."

He hesitated for a second, before words left him. "Lovely, indeed. I might even celebrate tonight."

My eyebrows raised, even as the smile faded from my face. I leaned in a fraction of an inch, until my lips were only milimeters away from his. He didn't flinch. Hell, he didn't even blink. I stared into his eyes a little longer and the flashes of the night flew in front of my inner eye.

The strong masculine scent that flew around him made everything so much harder. It freezed my brain and stopped my breathing and maybe even obfuscated my common sense. But I wouldn't give in. That was one rock bottom I refused to reach.

"Well that makes the two of us, then," I whispered, slowly pronouncing each word. Taking my time, I stepped away, and just like that I could breath again, freed of his intoxicating scent.

Giving him one last glance, I said, "Have a nice day, Sir."

And then I grabbed my satchel bag and left the office much more quietly than I'd entered it.

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I know the chapter was short, but I hope you liked it :)
The next will be longer, I promise. Aaannddd some exciting things are about to happen soon, so buckle up, my lovelies, and enjoy the ride ;)