My gaze moved to the impending files on my desk waiting for me to go through them, all with a deadline that is hanging in the corner. Then, I flicked my gaze to meet hers, shaking my head. “For you?” I grinned. “Always.”
***
Isabella Montague.
Christian Kingston is the last person I hoped to go to for any reason, at least not willingly but things happen where you cannot get what you want, or in some cases, to get what you want, you need to do some things you don’t want to do. And to me, that is what approaching Christian Kingston is like-a decision I am making because I have no other choice than to embrace.
I just hope I will not regret it, but as I remained seated on one of the couches in the spacious office, dropping my bag beside me and crossing my legs while he pushed his chair back, looking effortlessly hot as he does it, I started to regret my decision right then and there, believe me, I did.
For one, I made a mental note of how late it already is, and he is still at work but then again, who am I to complain when I tend to stay at the office for that long, or even longer. The problem is, even after an apparent long day at work, where one is supposed to look all haggard and shit, this man looks like he is ready to go and model for ELLE magazine or something.
He has gotten rid of the suit jacket I assume he had on at first, now donning just the inner crisp white shirt tucked in the straight, tailored black pants that seems to be a designer no doubt. His tie, it was loose, giving him this whole laid back aura. And the sleeves of the shirt were pulled to his elbow, his hair, normally perfectly styled was slightly tousled, giving it a messy but hot appearance.
And as he rose to his full height, he suddenly seemed taller than he has ever appeared before. The action, it was so simple. He simply got up from his chair and made his way around the table, walking towards me and yet, he looked as though he was running down a runway.
His eyes, those sultry hazel eyes met mine, and his lips curled upwards into a small smile. “Have you eaten?” He inquired, totally off the topic.
My brows furrowed, as I am snapped out of whatever trance I was lost in for that moment, his words registering in my mind. Then, I frowned. “What does that have to do with anything?” How did he asking me to take a seat turn to him asking if I have eaten?
Christian shrugged, “Everything.” He stated simply, “You see, I need to be sure you are in good health all the time, and that involves eating on time.” He stated casually as he settled on the couch opposite me, his eyes never leaving mine. “So,” He continued, leaning down to rest his elbows on his thighs, “Have you eaten?”
I held his gaze, my eyes narrowed slightly, wondering where this conversation is headed towards. Holding his gaze longer than necessary, I blinked, shaking the thought out. “I am here to talk business.” I said instead, of giving him an answer.
Christian shook his head as well, “So…no.” He did not wait for my response as he pulled out his phone scrolling through it. “What do you want to eat? I know taking you out is out of the picture so a takeout it is, I hope you don’t mind.” He totally ignored what I said, carrying on with scrolling through his phone. “What do you prefer more, Italian? Chinese, or what?”
“Did you not hear me?”
“I did.” He nodded, his attention still on his phone. “But, it is past work hours so I don’t have to listen to you talk business, do I?” He asked casually, half his attention seemingly on his task at hand, looking as though he could not care less about what I came with.
It irked me, but I am in no place to be upset. So, I flicked my eyes close and took in a deep breath, reminding myself that I am the one here in need of something and not the other way around. “It is important.” I gritted out, peeling my eyes to settle it on him.
He looked up from his phone, his expression dead serious as he met my gaze. “So is your health to me,” He stated earnestly, “you are important to me as well so, if you want to have this conversation, then agree to eat with me at the very least. I am hungry anyway, the last time I ate was lunch.”
I fisted my hand by the side, trying to see whether he will back down but he did not. Eventually, I suspired and nodded, “Fine.” I huffed out. “If eating will make him listen to me, then so be it.
He grinned, “Good,” He nodded. “So, Italian, Chinese, or?”
“Italian.”
“Italian it is,” He tapped away on his phone, and after placing the order, he dropped the phone aside, and met my gaze again. “Let’s talk business before it gets here then. Tell me, what could possibly the reason you decided to grace me with your presence, because I know it can’t be just because you missed me.” Though his tone was light, akin to a joke, I knew behind that playful demeanor that he knows the answer to his question pretty well.
But, I did not say a thing directly, yet again reminding myself that I am the one in need of him here. I choose to ignore his words as well, because I have long realized Christian has a thing with saying stuff like that to me, and while I do not particularly like it, I can’t say I hate it as well.
Turning around, I pulled out a file from my bag, then placed it on the table between us, pushing it towards him before I crossed my legs, my expression losing all trace of lark as I watched him closely.
He spared the file a glance that lasted a split second before he met my gaze again, his expression unchanged. There was no curiosity in it, or any sign of him being moved whatsoever, which yet again confirms my suspicions. Instead, he arched a perfectly shaped brow in question.
I took that as my cue to speak. “Ian Woods.” I said, my eyes watching his expression closely. There was no change even as I said that. “You have stocks under my company with that name.” I elaborated, my tone firm, and filled with certainty. “Numerous stocks, might I add. All together accumulating to over 16% of Montague Group Shares.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.