I'm a Fighter, Not a Lover (Don G x OC) Mafiatale/Mobtale

~ Chapter 12 ~

Her eyes glued to her screen tablet, Tamia stood checking through digital documents of information and logistics of profit for her boss. All had been well managed and was up to date as expected, so there was no trouble whatsoever. 

As G worked at his desk reading files of work and financial statements, he could not ignore the fact that Tamia was standing for such a long time, ever since this morning to be exact. Were her legs not tired from being in one spot for five hours straight? He took a quick glance at her, taking in her image. 

Tamia wore a chiffon dark blue blouse and black bell bottom dress pants with short classy black heels. Her face expression was neutral, her eyes following whatever she was reading on the tablet as her finger scrolled up or down. Feeling orbs upon her Tamia looked G's direction, him being quick to look away and not get caught. 

She questioned him in thought.

He was always stealing a glance at her for some particular reason... why? 

G cleared his throat. "Would you like to sit down?" he asked. 

"Are you insisting I sit down?" Tamia questioned. G shifted in his chair slightly, adjusting his posture. He tapped his pen against the surface of his desk.

"You've been standing there for five hours straight, so, yes, yes I am," he clarified. G gestured his hand towards the couch from across the room, not too far from his desk. "Please, sit Tamia. It does you no good standing up all day. Does it not make you uncomfortable?" 

"Not by the slightest," she replied nonchalantly, G sighing at her indifferentness. "But, alright. You're the boss after all." She walked around to the front of the desk and sat on the couch, her posture straight as always. G looked at her with curiosity and intrigument, pondering just what ran through that mind of hers. 

Tamia was far more different than other women he had met or had interactions with. Women of monster and humankind would fall all over for him with just one charming smile. They would fight over him for just about anything to be with him, intentions of being his wife or girlfriend or sugar baby for that matter. Giving themselves so easily to him, he never found any of the women who had relations with him worthy of wife material. Tamia, was different however. 

The first night they had met, she had no intentions of having a good time with him. Only the intention to kill and strangely it enraptured him. Not only did she have beauty, but intelligence, diligence, and patience as well. Although she didn't speak much, her presence spoke for her. Oh, and she was one hell of a fighter, so that too.

He checked the time on his watch. 1:35 p.m. Lunch is around this time, so he'll put a pause on work for now. His chair moved backward, G coming to a stand. Tamia took her eyes off of her tablet and turned to look at him. 

"Are we going somewhere, G?" she asked.

"As a matter of fact, yes, actually," G nodded. Tamia stood up herself and folded her tablet under her arm. 

"Where exactly?" 

"Why Grillbys of course," he grinned. 

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They had arrived at Grillbys and walked inside the establishment where they sat at the front counters. 

"Hey Grillbs," G greeted. Grillby adjusted his spectacles on his nose with a warm smile. 

"Ah. Hello G, and I've seen you've brought a familiar person?" He cocked a brow. 

"Hello Grillby. It's been awhile since I was last here, has it not?" Tamia grinned, placing her elbow on the table and holding her chin in the palm of her hand. "My apologies for having to quit, but I couldn't risk any other connections possibly harming you." Grillbys smile became wider.