chapter two

chapter two

First approach

Hazel's pov

Okay, not what you might be thinking, though. A few seconds later, I returned from my shock, with my appetite gone. That message is the last thing I expected to see just yet. Not this woman again.

I peak at the message again, and multiple thoughts and scenarios fill my mind. I am not ready to meet with Andrea; that's a known fact. The unknown fact is I am not even prepared to hear from her not to talk more about meeting with her. How did I go from bad to worse in the space of a second?

Maybe it's the caffeine in my veins or Maia's words in my head, but I finally see some truth and an escape in all of this. Maia is right. I can't possibly call quit everything I've worked for all my life. It only takes one step to begin the journey of a thousand miles, they say. And I'm going to have to take my first step. I only pray it's in the right direction.

I've been sitting for exactly twenty-five minutes, and I know this because my eyes did not stray far from the wall clock in front of me. It feels like hours. Twice I caught the golden-eyed secretary staring at me with a concerned look etched on her face.

"I must look crazy," I mutter, subtly doing a once over at myself. Indeed I am crazy! I should have handed in my resignation letter as soon as I heard his name at the merger-acquistion party. But, no, here am I regretting every minute of it. It's all in the past! And I have to face it head-on. At least I have to try, and I can't keep running, as Maia said.

After repeatedly going through my confidence booster mantra, I stand up and smoothen the palms of my hands against the wrinkles of the black pencil skirt I carefully selected this morning and flattens the point where my black-and-white pin-striped shirt tucked into the waistband of my dress. To complete my look, I choose silver four inches Louis Vuitton stilettos, and at 5'2, I'm shorter than most women; heels make me feel powerful. I just hope it won't fail me today because I'll be needing my powers when I get to the other side of the door. I reach for the pearls around my neck and gently pat my hair. This morning, I’d brushed and smoothened my Auburn hair into the perfect chignon. My fussing directs the secretary's gaze towards me. "I could reschedule if-" she's cut short.

The door opens, and Alex Burton, director of the PR department, steps out of the office. He looks my way, and with a slight nod of acknowledgment, he strolls away. He has always been a cold one.

"Mr. Giovanni will see you now."

"Thank you"

" You don't need to knock. Just go in," the secretary smiles kindly at me. "and good luck" She is wearing a sharp charcoal suit jacket and a white shirt. yeah, thanks for the wish, I definitely do need it.

I walk into the office tentatively, carefully shutting the door behind me. My eyes find him standing close to the window, and he has his back to me.

"Mr. Giovanni?" I called out to him, and I didn't miss how his shoulders went from relaxed to rigid. He turned his head, and the rest of his body followed suit.

Surprise flickers on his face. There’s no mistaking him from the front. No missing those stormy blue eyes, full of confusion right now, or those arched brows of his, now furrowed.

He looks the same, just older—six years older, to be precise. Those years have only made him even better-looking, unfortunately. He’s got razor-sharp cheekbones, a jaw that could cut glass, and dark stubble along with it that could probably do the same.

"Hazel," he breathes out my name in a husky whisper, sending chills down my spine.

Lifting my head and straightening my shoulders, I grind my heels down and watch as his eyes trace my face like he’s never seen it before. The split second he used in assessing me from head to toe feels like an eternity. My palms are sweating profusely, my legs feel like jelly, and my heart beats so much I'm afraid he might hear the violent rhythm of my heart pounding in my chest.

His voice is the same, too. Deep, almost baritone.

I continue to stare dully at him how I have longed to set eyes again on this man. And how I have missed the sight of him. How truly beautiful he is.

"Please take a seat." He gestures to the coffee brown Italian leathered cushion in his extremely spacious office. Dazed, I look at the two chairs facing him, but I didn't move.

The office interior is detailed, but it is cavernous and cold, with stark, expensively appointed dark wood furnishings, a gorgeous Turkish carpet, and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked other buildings.

My head slowly tilts back to view the frescoed ceilings. It was an office fit for a king. And by the time I turn to look at him, his face has changed from surprised to angry.

He is angry, very angry.

Angrier than she has ever seen him. She stares at the transformation in disbelief. What shocks her the most is the expression on his face, drawn, hard, his jaw clenched so tight the muscles in his neck stand out. His eyebrows are two straight lines. No doubts my deeds to him are still fresh in his memory.

The urbane man who fed me caviar and quietly upgraded my flight to first class on our first and last trip together has vanished, replaced by this stranger with fierce, mistrustful eyes. His breathing seems to grow harsher as he advances towards me but stops a foot in front of me.

At that moment, he emits tremendous power. I feel a surge of electricity crackles between us. He holds my gaze steadily for heart-stopping moments, and I didn't overlook the battle in his eyes. The emotions that wage for control. I cringe as he draws even closer, Until we are inches apart, the scent of him invading my senses.

Nobody else smells like him. The smell of old money, Maia call's it.

For one unguarded instant carnal lust glitters in his eyes. Then he lowers his lids and masks them. But I saw it, the potency of his desire for me. It heightens my perceptions and Drenches me with wanting and lust. My skin tingles in response, my lips go numb, and my throat becomes so dry words would scratch it. 'Maia would be so proud' again, my subconscious airs her ugly voice. Abruptly, Andrea turns towards the couch and sits down while I walk to the opposite couch and sit down so close to the edge that I might fall off. It would have been funny under different circumstances. But this isn't another circumstance. One of its kind. Tenaciously, he watches me with a hawk-like gaze, following my every move as if he was waiting for me to make a mistake.

“Coffee?” he asks, averting his gaze from me.

“No, thank you, I would rather we go straight to the point” I shifted even closer to the edge of the couch and waited for his reply.

"You have been working as Head of accounting for three years?”

“Yes, Sir"

"I saw the email on the proposed margin with the Chinese textile company" He continues, "Set a date for another meeting and pass the information to my secretary. I want to have a new meeting with them, also inform them of the change of management so they would be prepared."

“Okay, would you be joining the meeting?" I inquire. And for what happens to be only a few seconds, there was an awkward silence, most of which I stared wide-eyed at him, awaiting his response. Still, the look in his eyes holds a thousand daggers. I had asked him a question that requires one answer, but even amidst the chill in his eyes, there seem to be several words buried in his heart, which he wants to let out.

After what seemed like hours, he ended the silence by clearing his throat.

“Miss Moore,” he calls, voice low and throaty. “if I weren’t going to be there, I wouldn’t have asked you to inform my secretary, would I?”

Best not to say anything, I reply, giving a curt nod, after which Another painful silence, but this time the constant tapping of his right foot made it even more excruciating. Could these get any worse? I say to myself.

“That would be all for now.” He snaps and relief gushes over me.

“ok, sir,” I reply and stand up immediately, adjusting the fringe of my skirt, picking my purse, and making my way quickly to the door.

“Hazel,” he calls, and my movement seized once those words left his lips. My heart literally did a double somersault and scattered to pieces. Although it is still sweet to hear him call my name, so much pain and hurt is evident in his voice.

“why?” he asks, his voice sounding as though he is on the verge of tears. Slowly I turn to catch a glimpse of hurt in his brown eyes, and his expression wasn’t like that of the cold man I just spent half an hour talking to, no. This was different, his expression of uncertainty, need, and hurt. At that moment I wanted to tell him everything. I wanted to tell him how sorry I was. A gentle tap on the door pulled my attention from Andrea to the door, which was now opening gently.

“Hazel?”The large man in front of me smiles hard; at least one person from my past is happy to see me, not that I deserve it. His smile is as wide and beautiful as I remembered cracking the side of his checks into two deep holes that further outline the smile, making him more attractive.

“wait, what” he chuckles "it’s been a minute," Johnny’s voice thunders through the whole room. With his size and say, it would be tough not to get intimidated by this giant. I could tell he was happy to see me and I him, but the tension in the room was too strong and too tight for him to miss.

“How have you been” eyes looking at me measurably.

"I have been good," I answer with two small nods.

“I can see that; you look really good.” he gives a low whistle, and immediately, I go crimson.

" what are you doing here?" The question lingers unanswered as his attention went quickly from me to Andrea’s, who I could tell isn't in the best of moods.

“work," my answer is clip and curt. Maybe I sounded too formal. John was a good buddy back in those days. He always liked me, unlike the rest of Andrea's friends and family. He was the only white horse, and I thought after what I did, he might hate me like the rest. Still, here is he all smiling and giddy. " it's nice seeing you again, John, see you around," I say and push past him before opening the door and walking outside, hoping and silently praying neither he nor Andrea calls me back and thankfully he doesn't.

'Phew,' I breathe out once I'm outside the confines of Andrea's scrutinizing and tormenting gaze. a deep breath I didn't know was holding, all the while in his office, leaves my throat.'That went well, or not just as I'm about to make the last corner out of the reception area, and I hear someone call my name.

I walk back inside the office only to see Andrea starring daggers at me. "your work starts now, Hazel"

"I'm sorry sir but I'm not supposed to start..."

"I decide when you start working and I say it is now. I'm the boss and I call the shots" he brings out a stack of white and blue folders from his drawer and put them in my arm.

"Start with those. I need them first thing tomorrow morning"

"how?...