chapter 5

~Lucas~

As Abigail stormed out of the office, the door closed with a soft click, and I leaned back in my chair, a sly grin tugging on my lips. Her expression—tight-lipped, eyes flashing her—gave her away. No doubt she was angry, which almost made me chuckle. I hadn't expected her to agree to her father's request, and moreover, the way she took my criticism, I thought she would snap at me and quit, yet she hadn't done any of that.

The look of her barely containing her anger flashed in my head, and I chuckled. She does have her dad's temper, and it is far more entertaining than anything I've ever come across.

When she had walked into the meeting room, her beauty had caught me off guard. I hadn't seen her since she was a teenager, all gangly limbs and shy smiles. Now standing right in front of me in that smart business outfit, and her gingered hair styled in a bun made her look more like a mature lady who radiated from grace. Her delicate face was one of a kind; those slim lips were tempting.

“Damn,” I muttered, leaning forward slightly. My gaze now on the door she exited from; I wasn't supposed to notice Abigail like that. She's Gavin's little daughter—my best friend's daughter, and I'm way older than her. But there was something about the way she pouts her lips whenever she is irritated, the way her eyes narrow in defiance. The fiery spirit beneath the surface that made her... intriguing and beautiful in a way that made me unsettled.

If I was being honest, her work had a few small errors that were barely worth mentioning, but it was fun watching her reactions, and she also gave Ray the documents she was supposed to hand over to me directly. I could not help but wonder what Lucas would say when Abigail went home and told him about how big of a bully I was to her at work.

Would he back off?

Or tell me to go easy on her?

The thought amused me. Gavin only told me to accept her as my intern; he didn't tell me exactly how I would treat her. But he should know my company's rules.

Tomorrow will surely determine whether I'll know if she's staying or not, but I doubt if Lucas hadn't expected I would push Abigail's button or not. The whole point was to see how far I would push her button, to test the waters.

Leaning back in my chair, I let out a low chuckle. My eyes still linger on the door. “O, Abigail, you amuse me. Now you are making me eager to see how tomorrow will be,” I muttered.

There was a knock on the door, bringing me out of my reverie. My grin widening, wondering if she was the one behind the door, probably to bite off my head and talk back at me. But when the door opened, revealing my assistant, Ray, my grin faltered, and I had my signature aloof expression on.

“Mr. Brooke, the meeting with the marketing team is about to start,” he reminded me, and I huffed.

“Right, I'll be there in a minute,” I replied, my tone stern.

~Abby~

I stepped into the living room, just to see my dad seated there, and his traveling bags were beside.

“You never told me you were going out on a vacation, dad,” I said, breaking the silence. He raised his head up, noticing my presence.

He smiled at me warmly and pulled me into an embrace. “Not my fault, angel; this was an emergency case, and I need to go check it out,” He responded.

“I wish we could spend more time together before you leave, but it's okay you aren't leaving for eternity. You'll still come back anyway; how many days are you going to spend there?” I inquired as I pulled out of the embrace.

“Prolly a month or two. I might not be able to call you because where I'm going doesn't have service,” he explained, and I sulked.

A month or two was too far; Dad and I can't do without talking a day, and now he would have to go for months. This isn't nice at all, two months?

“Dad,” I groaned.

He held my hands, his smile not wavering. He is always charming whenever he has that smile on.

“Do not worry, Angel; it's just for a month, and I have my eyes everywhere. I'll find a way to connect with you so we'll talk. Is that fine?” He proposed, and I nodded my head immediately. I don't want to be like a spoiled child.

I need to understand that his work is important right now.

“That is my girl, so tell me how was work?” He asked, and I faked a smile. God knows how much I want to rant at him, telling how much of a jerk his best friend is, but thankfully I've spoken to my close friends, and I've said my heart out to them, so most of my anger was flushed out.

“It was just there,” I shrugged, and he narrowed his eyes at me.

“You didn't do anything today?” He asked

“I did.” Even went ahead and redid the work that had been given to me. Rechecking those files again, the errors I found weren't up to five, so why was the grumpy old man shouting?

He's such a perfectionist.

When I realized dad was about to talk more about how my day went in the office, I decided to chirp in.

“When is your flight?” I questioned. He checked his wristwatch. “Twelve,” he responded, and my eyes brightened.

“Cool, we have time to go to our favorite place and spend the time together before you leave,” I muttered happily, and he faked tiredness.

I dragged Dad up, his bodyguard carried his luggage, and we entered Dad’s Lamborghini. I wanted to drive, but dad asked his driver to do so. I pouted, but he coaxed me to sit beside him so we could spend the time together and not miss a bit.