Page 64 of Resting Grump Face
“See. You just look adorable, no grump here.”
We talk for another couple of hours, I tell him about my former jobs, he tells me about some of his old cases, I tell himabout how my ex cheated on me too, he tells me I should stop dating‘immature losers’.
It’s fairly late when Ryker finally drops me off at Haven. Our hands brush against each other when he says good night, and if I didn’t know any better, I might suspect that I could have some kind of insect fluttering inside my belly. It’s not though. If anything, it’s just a meaningless infatuation caused by physical attraction, alcohol and unfortunate circumstances. Which is what I should focus on. The reason I am doing all of this in the first place. Unfortunate circumstances.
Stealthily, I eavesdrop on Paige and Guy’s door to see if they’re still up, and then spend another hour or two making sure all my friends are alright. Once I’m certain no one forgot their medication, I spent the rest of the night snuggling with Chairman Meow in bed at home. The O-Team has agreed to take care of him as long as I am occupied with my new job, so I drop him off again the next morning. It’s way too early when I exit the building, but to my surprise, Miles is already waiting for me in the limousine. He opens the door for me to get in.
“Is he forcing you to do this, Miles? Do the Robot Dance if he is.”
Miles laughs. “Well, he’s not forcing me. The threat is implicit in our current economic system. I have to work or I’ll starve. Though I have been working long enough for Mr. Lemonface that I am pretty much set for life. But speaking of starvation: you should come by the house more often. It’s rare that he makes such an elaborate and equally scrumptious breakfast.”
“What are you talking about?”
Miles gets in the car and eyes me from the side. “You don’t know? He didn’t scold you for not attending his breakfast feast?”
“No?!”
“Alright, forget I said anything then. Seriously. I can’t have him stink up my car with more of that horrible cabbage smell.”
“Don’t worry,” I assure him. “I’d never sell you out.”
So, yesterday, he made an elaborate and equally scrumptious breakfast just for me?
Maybe he has some kind of feeding kink?
No. He was just being polite. He probably hit his head again, and that’s why he’s acting like this.
Did I hit his head recently?
When we get to the office building, I tie my shoes laces, take a sip of water, stretch my legs, and begin my climb.
I make it all the way to the third floor when I stop dead in my track shoes. There’s a big Grayson Holdings logo next to the door. A door that has my name on it.
Sienna de la Vega.
Dumbfounded, I knock hesitantly, wait for an answer, and then step inside. The entire floor is empty except for two fully equipped desks that are standing opposite each other. Ryker is leaning back in one chair with his feet on his desk and a newspaper draped over his head.
He seems to be sleeping, so I decide to sneak up on him.
Just when I am hovering above my target, his deep voice grumbles from under the paper. “I wouldn’t,” he warns and scares me enough to make me trip over my own two feet.
“See,” he scolds me when I get back up and he takes the newspaper off his face. “That’s the kind of stuff that causes lasting damage.”
Ryker smiles and so do I. Then, a second later, something else washes over me. It’s like my body is sounding an alarm that says,‘Alert! Alert! Feelings incoming!’. My face is burning up instantly.
Which is great. Just what I need.
Having feelings for someone as emotionally unavailable as Mr. One Date And Done. And that’s besides all the other reasons of why Ryker Grayson is an atrocious idea in every conceivable way. He might have had good intentions at one point, but now, he has literal billions sitting in his bank account, and instead of using them to help people who actually need it, he’s just miserable doing his stupid job.
I walk over to my own chair and sit down. “So, you had a spare floor lying around?”
“Happens more often than you’d think,” he replies.
As we work, every so often, I find myself feeling like a kid on Christmas, except instead of presents, all I want is his attention, and when I look up and he is already looking at me, I get an odd sensation in my stomach. It’s unsettling.
He did all of this just for me. An entire floor just so I wouldn’t have to climb all these stairs. But why? Why would he start being nice to me? Why did he start being nice to me?
I put the thought aside, try to ignore my burning cheeks, and concentrate on my work. A proper strategy to improve his battered image (which I, too, may have judged too soon. Who knows?)
