Here's the next chapter. I feel it's a bit of a crappy one but...
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You were all set on going home like Chris had told (ordered) you to, but when you noticed Chris had left the damn file on the countertop, you couldn't just leave it. He needed it for an important meeting.
You decided to take it straight away, knowing Chris one be in the first of his morning meetings, you wouldn't have to see him then. Although you were surprised by Chris being sat at his desk when you opened the door to his office. Chris raised his head, his brow already set in a deep frown as his eyes met yours.
"What are you doing here?" Chris half-heartedly asked not bothering to keep eye-contact.
Your mouth fell slightly open, his whole demeanor and attitude shocking you. "You left this. You need-"
"Put it down and leave." His tone was bitter.
"No!" You're not sure what it was that made you snap. Maybe the hurtful way he greeted you, or the cold look, or being rude for no reason.
"What?" Chris looked up from what he was doing.
"I said, no. No, I won't leave." You scowled at him. "Not until you thank me." You walked up to his desk.
"And why would I thank you?"
"Because that's what you do when someone does something for you, not treat them like garbage for no reason." You threw the file down out of frustration.
"And you do as I say." Chris raised his voice as he stood to his feet.
"Not when you're being a fucking asshole." You shouted, losing your temper with him. "You can't just yell at me, tell me not to do my job, show me no respect for no, fucking, reason and expect me to still be your 'good little sugar baby'. We had a deal, Chris, and nowhere do I remember sighing up to be treated like this!"
Chris scoffed. "Deal? Oh, so you do remember it then?"
"And what does that mean?"
Chris shoved his hand into his pant's pocket and pulled out the crumpled up napkin that he'd put in there, slamming it onto the desk. "Who the fuck is Tom, Y/N? Another Sugar daddy? Boyfriend? Hmm?" He glared at you.
You shook your head letting out a deep sigh. "He's no one-"
"DON'T FUCKING LIE TO ME!" Chris snarled, slamming his fist down onto his desk making you jump. "Emily said she saw you with him-"
"I fucking knew it!" You let out a short laugh, turning your back to Chris. "So, you listen to her, find that and come to the conclusion I'm fucking every Tom, Dick and fucking Harry."
"Emily said she saw you on a date-"
"I don't give a fuck about her!" You snapped. "She's a liar, she knew full well that Tom was my old Professor. We bumped into each other and ended up chatting. He gave me his number so we could talk about the possibility of me starting my writing career. Nothing, more."
Chris stared at you in silence, taking in what you'd said. He looked into your eyes and slowly his anger faded away. "I- Y/N, I-"
"Don't!" You held your hand up before reaching over to grab the napkin. "Fucking ask me next time." You spat before you spun around and stormed out of Chris' office, ignoring his pleas for you to stop.
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"So, what do you think?" Tom asked with a warm smile.
After you left Chris' office feeling pretty damn proud for standing up for yourself, you headed home and changed into your comfies, thinking you were just going to be binge watching 'Friends' and eating junk food, but then you started thinking about Chris and the napkin with Tom's number on it. Then you began thinking about why he'd given you it.
