The Date Planner

1.4. I Could Get Used To it

"Well, since last night went so awesome, I couldn't resist to pay you another visit and also the fact that I had to give you your paycheck, hence...", he trails off and gestures to himself, dramatically.

What did I do to go through this in the morning?

"You understand, you're paying me off for being your date, hypothetically", I cock a brow at him.

He scoffs at me, as if... I'm a child?

"Why, no of course not, silly women. Why would I? To have a date with the most busy women in all of New York is my pleasure and my honor. I would never dishonor a women of such high intellect with petty money. How could I?", he mocks me, feigning hurt as he places a hand to his chest.

What a son of a...

"What is your purpose here, Clinton?", I walk a few confident steps and stop in front of my desk, crossing my arms.

He eyes me and I see the telltale signs of a sly smirk forming on his lips as he looks up at me underneath his lashes, sitting in my chair, in my cabin.

"I brought you something", he says softly before bending down to retrieve whatever is it he brought for me.

My eyes follow his movements calculative-ly and I almost bend over from my position to see what he was retrieving but the moment his head starts pulling back up, I go back to my intimidating stance.

Or so I think I'm trying to be.

From underneath my desk he produces 2 boxes of what I'm assuming is a ham/sandwich from Subway. He pushes some of my files out of the way to make room for the boxes of food and places them in the now created vacant space.

He bends down again though, producing two cups of coffee in his hand and places them beside the boxes.

Ok, what?

"Don't tell me you're making my cabin into a diner now", I narrow my eyes at him in all seriousness.

And the next thing you hear is his booming laughter in my cabin that resonates in the silence of it and also through me.

"You're funny, you know that?", he points out and speaks in between his laughter.

I throw my hands up in defeat and turn around to face my back to him and rub my forehead in between my forefingers.

You can't just go anywhere with this guy.

I refrain from sighing.

Suddenly, a thought occurs to me...

Who let him in?

And instantly my brain processes the answer...

Liza.

And speaking of the devil, just about a second later from that thought, Liza herself poked her head through the cabin door, peering in carefully with a sheepish smile on her face as she looks at me.

"Wanna explain about that?", I point behind my back at Clinton while still facing her.

"Wanna explain about last night?", she cocks a brow at me haughtily as if saying 'back at ya'.

I hold in my grunt and shake my head at her.

"What if Damon gets a word about this?", she prods me further, finally entering the cabin and standing in front of me.

Oh she's acting angry which I should be. But I would be angry at her as well if she didn't tell me something that big.

"You can't be serious, Liz", I reason.