5- Valentin Salvatore

Crazy.

Of a long list of adjectives that can be used to describe Nicole Santoro, this one is certainly at the top. Fuck, I can’t help but think how she always manages to surprise me. For better or worse, she does.

Lucky I’m quick to trim your body even holding a bouquet in one hand and the damn card in another. Leave the objects on the ground and hold the tiny woman, supporting both hands on her back and lifting her. I swear a low word because the employees started whispering to each other when they witnessed the scene.

Wanting to escape the gossip, I take Nicole to my room and push the door with my shoulder to close it. I put the woman girl lying on the brown leather sofa that is in the corner. Rarely use it, because I don’t usually relax much in the office, but at least it will be useful now.

Cross my arms in front of the body, while waiting for your farce to end, stopping to observe how beautiful the crazy is fucking. I’ve had my share of women throughout my forties, but I confess that I don’t remember meeting anyone like her. Not only for the stunning appearance but by the combo. Nicole is, yes, beautiful and hot with her one and a half meters, but it’s not just that.

I have no time to think too much about her qualities when I see her open an eye lightly as if the trick was going to go unnoticed by me. Cover my mouth to hold the laughter, because fuck, how insane. She releases a sigh and looks at me, blinking slowly, putting her hand on his head.

"What... What happened?" he asks, pretending a lack of memory.

"You gave a show, Miss Santoro. It’s a good thing you didn’t choose the career of actress as your friend, because you would starve" I provoke, knowing how she always falls into my phrases used to cause her explosive reactions.

"What are you talking about? I... passed out?"

I watch her sit on the couch, long hair banging her back even stuck in a ponytail she always wears to work. I fantasized for a while about how their texture would be, how they would be wrapped around my fingers as I pulled them.

"I need to go home, Mr. Salvatore. I’m not feeling very well. I think it was the stress of the day. Furthermore, I should get a few days off, you know? He’s been exploring me a lot in the last few weeks. Or better, in the last years!"

"That’s not how I exploit a woman, ma'am."

The greenish-brown eyes spread out in surprise, but I don’t give her time to react too much, just move away from her and back to my chair, ignoring the desire to pass my finger through the full lips, which are always ready to release the first acidity she thinks.

I have learned a few things about Nicole over the years since she started working for me. I’m usually a very observant person, this is an important quality for business, but with her... Likewise, I know more than I should know about a simple employee.

I know how grumpy and stubborn you are, especially when it comes to my name. She doesn’t even try to hide anymore when she curses me whenever I say or do something that displeases her. If it were any other employee, she would not be here anymore, because I do not lie when I say that her behavior exceeds all professional limits when it concerns me.

I know how your love life is quite busy and how it does not seem to last with any of them. Proof of this is the thousands of cheap gifts that he receives and throws away.

I know how she loves her friends as if they were family and how she would be able to kill and die for them. Nicole even spent a good time traumatized by the episode of kidnapping her and her friends, which happened more than a year ago. Even if you tried to be strong, I know how scared you were. I gave her a few days off, but nothing could hold the hurricane woman at home for long.

"Why are you looking at me like that? I won’t faint again," she says, looking at me still sitting on the couch, very quiet.

"I know you don’t. Your fainting is... convenient."

Nicole releases a leech and wipes an imaginary dirt on her shoulder, trying to disguise it. As if I was stupid enough to believe in a fake fainting. How old are you to use such a childish attempt to escape your responsibilities? I know you’re twenty-five, but most days you don’t act like a person that age.

"You can go, Miss Santoro. Don’t make me change my mind about releasing you early."

"Earlier? My schedule is until six, and look! It’s six o'clock!"

Do not come with this nice boss talk that does not stick with me.

The miniature woman stands up, without any difficulty in balancing on the immense heels she uses to compensate for her short stature. She whistles, grumbles something I can’t hear, and leaves my room without saying anything more. I let go of the laughter that was holding and I passed my hands over my face, trying once again to understand this dynamic between us.

She hates me, and I pretend to hate her back.

I don’t hate her. I can’t.

Ok, maybe I hate her a little when she catches me on a bad day when the stress is already high and I have to deal with her provocations. But it doesn’t last long. I can say that I hate it in the right dose. It’s even better because I don’t know what would be of me if it wasn’t like this.

Provocations aside, I like having Nicole around. She is extremely smart, efficient, and skilled. Except for the fact that it is a fucking temptation to have to look every day at the legs turned, exposed by the dresses and tight skirts you wear, I like. I prefer when you wear colorful social suits because they make my life a little easier.