The Girl With The Mouse Ears **Sample Only**

Chapter 14

"Colour is finding its way back into your wardrobe. Oh, and dots," Miles stated as soon as he saw me Monday morning. He was waiting for me, perched on the edge of my desk with his legs crossed at the ankles and a surprisingly bright grin on his face.

A calm smile touched my lips as I rolled my eyes, "Why does the colour of my clothing matter so much all of the sudden?"

"Well, correct me if I'm wrong, but you wear less colour and less pattern when you're upset. So I'm taking this red polka dot dress to mean that you are in a better mood."

I just shot him another smile as I squeezed around him to settle into my chair. He just raised his eyebrow at me as I began unpacking my belongs and straightening the new stack of papers he had placed on my desk.

"Fine, you might be right," I agreed.

"Good, now I can give this to you without the fear of having it splashed in my face," he said as he slid my shark mug onto my desk. Whipped cream was swirled along the top and it jiggled a little as I pulled the warm mug towards me. "White hot chocolate is my specialty."

"Oh really?"

"Oh yeah, and it's the best thing to pull me out of a bad mood."

And for the first time ever I let myself look at him. Really look at him. not as some handsome stranger in a bar that could distract me for one night. Not as my boss who lorded over my employment and therefore my paychecks. Not some man who was more or less a Venus fly trap, enticing me in to place me in another relationship that would only end in heartbreak.

He was just Miles.

He almost always had this tiny half smile pulling at one side of his mouth. he dressed with a certain level of class, always wearing something perfectly pressed, but his personality was visible through the unique dress socks, playful ties, or bright pocket squares. Even in times of high stress his blue eyes would sparkle with optimism. There was strength to the way he held himself, but it was never so overwhelming that he seemed untouchable. He was relatable, stable, and down to earth in ways that couldn't be faked.

And this was the man who had repeatedly needed assurance in taking me home, the man who tried to protect me from my own raccoon, and had taken my makeup off after I had been bitter and cold.

"Thank you Miles. For everything."

"You're welcome," he bounced back.

"No, really. I've been less than lovely to you after our encounter in the bar and you never deserved that. You gave me a promotion when you could've just let me go. You brought me this mug when I was really upset and I almost tore your head off for it. You make sure I'm safe when I have put myself in a precarious position. That goes way beyond your job description, I'm sure."

"That's the glory of working for yourself: you get to make your own job description."

"Well, just know that I appreciate all of this, even if I suck at showing it sometimes."

"I'm just glad you're in a better mood. I'm guessing that whatever was bothering you resolved itself?"

"Not even close," I said with a humorless laugh, "But I had an important conversation and it's time that I moved past it."

"Are you ever going to tell me what happened?"

"Probably not. It's personal family issue."

There was a flicker of something that crossed his face but it vanished so quickly it would've been impossible to define it. And not a second later there was a full, hundred watt smile in its place. I was just thankful that he had no ill feelings towards me after everything I had done and all the things I had said.

After that we both started working. My phone began ringing as soon as we opened and it didn't stop until noon. My hand ached from vigorously scribbling down notes as clients spoke, some of them complaining, some of them flinging hundreds of complicated questions at me. With my headset on I would speak with clients about any and all of their concerns about the company and our services while my eyes would flicker over emails, trying to decide which ones were important and which ones could wait. A few people came for meetings with Miles and he met all of them by my desk so I wouldn't have to try to chat with them and the customer in my ear.

By the time the day ended I was completely drained and so was my shark mug. After I placed down the phone receiver, answering the last call of the day I let out a sigh and slumped in my chair. I knew that I should be racing for the door like everyone else but I didn't have the energy to pull myself out of the chair or even keep my head up straight. If I could've melted into that chair and stayed there forever I would've.

"Took the starch right out of you, hey?" Miles teased as he exited his office.

"Today was a zoo," I groaned, then dragged my eyes over to him. He had a golf bag slung of his shoulder and had changed out of his suit into shorts and a polo at some point. "Golf meeting?"

"What can I say? Old white men love discussing business over golf." His gaze dripped over my limp form, mimicking me, "Do you want a ride home? Someone might call an ambulance if they see you like this on the metro."

My first response was to reject the offer. My mind spun to the thought of him finding out about Declan and the hurt that my heart carried after Matt. But Bella was right. I needed to move on. And besides, I wasn't sure my legs would carry me to the metro at this point.

"A ride would be lovely."

We walked through the building, to his car together. People watched us the entire time we walked. Part of me wanted to curl up and suddenly scrap his idea. I couldn't do this. I couldn't have all these eyes and all this judgement on me when I was in such a fragile state. But then I reasoned that they would talk no matter what. They would call me a gold digger and a slut no matter what I did. And the simple reality was that I was tired, I wanted a ride, and I wanted Miles to drive. No one else was involved but the two of us, he had offered and I had accepted. It was simple and they could twist it anyway they wanted to.

"What, no driver today?" I demanded when we entered the parking garage and I spotted the sporty red car.

"Honestly, I only have a driver because my dad is old school and pushed it on me. For the most part I drive myself and pay a guy a whole lot of money for being on standby." He explained as he plunked his golf clubs in the trunk.

The drive to my apartment complex was fast and smooth. We chatted idly about nothing in particular, even though it was considered small talk I found it pleasant enough. He was just easy to be around and talk to.

"Thank you for the ride.," I said as we pulled up to my complex.

"No worries," but as I moved to unbuckle myself and open the door his hand fell on top of mine, stopping me, "I still owe you a day off for working that over time for me."

"You don't owe me anything. You already got me Bruce." I stated, lifting the shark mug.

"You named your mug?" then he seemed to catch himself, "A mug doesn't compensate you for over time and today was a long one. I'll have Jen from accounting cover."

"You don't have to."

"I insist. If you show up I won't let you work anyway. Stay home with Bruce and Mickey, okay?"

I couldn't stop the smile from spreading across my face. It was possibly one of the most thoughtful things anyone had ever done for me. Acting on my impulses I unbuckled me seatbelt and leaned over the console. My lips brushed against the stubble on his cheek.

"Thank you,"

"You're welcome," he said. Though his half smile remained on his lips those blue eyes clouded over.