The Art of Starting Over

Chapter 25 - A Grand Entrance

Sosa's mouth dropped open as I hopped out of the flashy red Porsche. I could feel her radiating fury permeate my back. I had to physically bite my tongue to stop myself from saying "I told you so" to the smug driver inside as I leaned through the passenger window.

"What the hell am I going to tell her?" I hissed angrily at Jeremy.

"The truth. You overslept and I dragged you to work," he answered cheekily. I gripped the window frame tightly to stop myself from slapping him. This man was unbelievable.

When I woke up that morning, I found over twenty missed calls and texts from Sosa. Realising I was over an hour late for work, I had rushed downstairs and slammed right into Jeremy, who was already in full suit and in the middle of an important-sounding phone call. He hadn't flinched. He had just held me at arm's length and looked me up and down to see if I was okay. Satisfied with his examination, he had walked purposefully to the kitchen and put the kettle on. It took every ounce of strength I had not to grab his phone and throw it out of the window.

Standing in the doorway, he had impeded my exit until he was certain I had drunk every drop of my coffee. Then, when he finally hung up, he sent me back upstairs for a quick shower and insisted on driving me to work himself. Obviously, this had led to a big argument which made me even more late.

"Why are you fretting? It's not like you're going to get fired," he said in his superior Jeremy James Cordina tone.

"You know exactly why I'm fretting! Sosa is going to flip."

"I'll pick you up tonight at seven," he announced, ignoring me completely.

"No, thank you," I objected. "I'll take the bus."

He eyed me for a second through his stupid Ray-Bans. "You are not taking the bus."

"Yes, I am!" I said, my voice rising as I snatched my bag from the back seat.

"Stop being difficult. I'll pick you up and then drop by to say hello to Millie," he said with an air of finality. "I didn't get a chance to talk to her this morning. What time does she leave for work anyway?"

"Six-thirty!" I answered exasperatedly. "That's why I have an alarm at seven! To wake me up because there is nobody else in the house who can do that!"

He rolled his eyes. "You needed to sleep."

A few hours of sleep sure came at a steep price. "So, you just switched off my alarm?"

"You're making a scene, Ally. People are looking," he replied in a cool voice that was not helping my temper.

"That's rich coming from the man in the Armani suit and the flipping red Porsche!"

His jaw twitched and, with a snapping motion, he undid his seatbelt and stormed out of the car. He removed his sunglasses as he walked purposefully around and up to me.

I backed into the passenger door, attempting to keep some distance between us, but he was right up in my face as he rested one arm over the roof of the car. He snaked his other arm around my waist, pulling me closer, and I stared back at him in confusion as his thumb slipped under the hem of my shirt. The feeling of his skin on mine sent strong surges of electricity up and down my spine, and I didn't like it.

What was he doing?

"What are you doing?" I asked as I tried to hold my breath so that he wouldn't hear my brain hyperventilate when he leaned in so that his face was less than an inch away from mine.

I could feel his breath on my lips and it tasted sweet. Not too sweet. It reminded me of honey. His body was as close to mine as possible without physically touching, and, after having slept across his chest all night, I found myself fighting not to give in to the urge to close the gap between us.