I looked at him in disbelief.
He couldn't be serious, could he? He wanted me without make-up? Was he kidding me? And why was he commenting on how I looked? I paused, gathering my thoughts. I didn't know how to respond.
"You're beautiful without make-up," he said, as if he just realized what he just said.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. "You're just saying that."
He shook his head. "No, I'm not."
I knew what he was doing. He was trying to get me to lower my guard. And it was working.
"Do you want to see what you look like, Emily?" he said.
I gasped. "No, Sir," I said, clearing my throat. "Anyway, why did you want to see me, Sir?"
Rye leaned back against his chair and stared at me. "You do know that aside from the ad campaign, I am also the new head of the charity event, don't you?"
"I'm aware, Sir," I forced through my teeth. "What of it?"
"I need you."
I c****d my head to one side. "What for?"
"I want to see if you can handle the job."
"What do you mean, Sir?"
"A representative from the beneficiaries came today. She told me there would be interviews with the donors," he said. "And since you are working with me on this, I want you to handle the interviews."
Oh s**t.
I looked at him, trying to hide my shock.
"Are you serious?"
"Yes. Do I look like I'm fooling around, Miss Harper?"
I gulped. "I- I- I can't do that, Sir."
"Of course you can. You can do it. It's just a charity night, Emily. All you need to do is come with me."
I shook my head. "Sir, I have a ton of work. Your father has just handed me his schedule and I have to book them all. On top of that, I'm still not finished with the ad campaign. I don't think I can accommodate another work load, Sir."
Rye stood up and walked towards me. He put his hands on my shoulders. I stared at the floor.
"Emily," he said. "I know you can do it. I've already checked your work records. You're overworked as it is, but I know how hard you try. I know that you're capable. You can do it. Besides, it's just a fancy dinner event. You can think of it as a night-out and not as work."
I gazed up at him. "But why me? Why do you want me to do it?"
He didn't need to say it. I already knew the answer. He just wants to torture me because I denied him. He's doing all this because he wants me to break apart. This jerk.
"I want you to come with me to the gala, Emily."
Pushing thoughts about choking my employer's son, I bit my bottom lip. "I can handle a lot, Sir. But I don't think I'm ready to interview the donors. I'm not good with public speaking."
"You're overthinking it, Emily. Just do it. Everything will be fine. You have my word."
What was I supposed to say? I had no choice but to do as he asked. I just needed to be prepared for the worst. No matter how much I try to resist and complain, he'd just insist. Worst-case scenario, he'll call his father and let him talk to me. I could not face Mr. Lucas yet. I don't have an answer for him yet. Taking a deep breath, I nodded. "Okay, Sir. I'll call you if I can clear my schedule for tomorrow."
He smiled. He then walked toward me pulled me closer to him. I looked up at him. He leaned down, his lips slowly drifting closer to mine. He was about to kiss me. I closed my eyes.
He stopped.
I opened my eyes and looked up at him.
And he laughed.
He let go of me and went back to his seat.
"I've cleared it already," he said, chuckling. He looked at me again. "You can go now. I'll talk to you later."
I nodded and turned around. I reached the door and pulled it open with shivering fingers. What the hell was that? Seriously, Emily? You're waiting for his kiss?
Ugh!
Hyperventilating, I stormed out of his office and went to my desk.
I sat down on my chair and stared at my computer. After a few minutes passed, I took a deep breath and started to work. I have a job to do. I have to try to forget about the i***t.
At least for now.
. . . . .
The following day was awful. I had to try to forget about the that 'almost-kiss.' I didn't want to be in his presence again. If only I could quit and leave. After the incident, I felt like I couldn't look at him without thinking about his advances. He was a jerk. He was always a jerk.
We were heading to the charity event. I was sitting in the backseat. I didn't want to sit next to him. I was still mad, but I was hiding my true feelings. I had to be professional. I was already in a lot of trouble because of me. I can't lose my job just because my boss was a jerk.
Rye was riding with the driver. I was so relieved when he wasn't next to me. I didn't know what I'd do if he accidentally touched me. I've been able to handle it all morning, but I knew that I wouldn't be able to control myself if he tried to touch me again.
I gazed at Rye through the rearview mirror. He looked handsome, to be honest. He was wearing a black suit. His dark hair was combed back. He was the most handsome man I've ever seen. Whenever he was near me, I felt like I was going to melt. I felt like his body was magnetizing mine. My heart started to beat faster, my palms started to sweat, I couldn't breathe, and I blushed like a tomato. I hate him.
It was already five minutes but he was still looking at me. I turned away from his gaze. What the hell is he looking at? Averting my eyes, I looked at the seat beside me. It was empty.
"Mr. McMillan, Ms. Harper, we're here," announced the chauffer.
I looked at the driver and nodded. "Okay, thank you."
The driver opened the door for me. I swallowed hard and stepped out of the vehicle. Rye followed. We walked together towards the entrance.
"So, are you ready?" he asked, smiling.
I nodded. "Yes," I said tersely. I bit my bottom lip and cleared my throat. "I'm ready."
He glanced at me and laughed.
"What?" I said.
"Relax, Emily. It's just a gala." He tilted his head, then bowed to lean in towards my ear. "You seem very nervous around me, Emily. You're sweating. You're shaking," he whispered. "Are you nervous now?"
"No, I'm not. It's just hot outside," I said, my face getting red.
"Is that so?"
"It is."
"Are you sure?"
I nodded. "Yes. I'm sure."
He smiled, pretending to be interested. I glared at him. "Oh, don't give me that look. You know you're blushing."
I sighed. "Don't you have a schedule to follow, Sir?"
"You're avoiding the question."
"I'm not avoiding it. You're just wasting time."
He smiled and offered his elbow for me to take.
"What are you doing?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"You're my muse, Emily. That's why I am offering you my arm. Go ahead, take it."