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

~ Chapter 16 ~

Reading and running diagnostics on her tablet, working on files and such. However, she was the only to arrive to the office because G wasn't there.

It had been four hours past 8:30 am and he still hadn't arrived. It was now 12:30 pm

Tamia set down her tablet, sat up from her seat, and went to pacing the floor trying to phantom where the hell he could possibly be. Perhaps he was attacked? No, he would've been able to protect himself, even if she wasn't around.

He was a playboy, so maybe a one night stand? Or he had over slept? 

She stopped in front the desk, a hand under chin in serious thought, analyzing the possibilities. Her foot tapped impatiently against the soft carpet floor until it came to a halt hearing the soft click of a door open and close

She turned forward and shifted her weight to one leg with arms crossed. There, the skeleton paused his sneaky movements when seeing Tamia's dark expression. G gulped with a nervous grin on his face.

His blue navy shirt was crumpled and not even tucked in his pants fully. His tie hung around his collar not even assembled properly.

"It's Monday, first day of the week. You're very late. Care to explain, G?" Tamia asked, tone harsh yet controlled.

"I just—uh— I was a bit... occupied this morning," G explained, trying to control the shakiness in his voice.

"With one of your lovers? Yeah, I can tell genius, you've got it written all over you," she exasperated, looking to her left to a bookshelf. "Fix your shirt, you look like you slept over at a strip club."

G immediately fixed his shirt and tucked it in his pants neatly then tried to fix his tie, but he couldn't do it without a mirror so it was nearly impossible. Tamia glanced from her peripheral vision to see G was struggling. Sighing, she walked over and grabbed the ends of the black fabric with a small tug.

"Lean down, you know I'm short," she spoke, earning a small chuckle from G. He complied allowing Tamia to do his tie. He watched her give an unreadable expression to which he found a bit unnerving.

"Are you mad?" he asked, the question sounding that of a child. Tamia looked up at him, pausing her actions for a quick second before continuing.

"No, not at all, just... Irritated quite a bit is all. No need to worry," she said, pulling the tie through the loop and sliding it up to his collar. She folded the collar down, neatly pressing down the folds. The hard expression in her eyes softened, a small frown on her lips. "Although, I wish you had of called to inform me you'd be late if you were attending such business. I won't lie, you had me worried. I was afraid something had happened to you because you're not usually the one to be this late at all." 

Rather than his regular vanilla cigarette and whisky scent, he smelt of a concentrated flower perfume. The smell made her cringe inwardly, but she chose not to say or show it.

"Well, please forgive me, I didn't mean to make you worry. To be honest, I thought you wouldn't have cared about me like that," G simpered, scratching the back of his skull. Tamia let go of his collar and took a step back, turning her heel with a sigh.

"G, just because I don't show it or say it, doesn't mean I don't care. I care, just... not enough to show it," she admits, a solemn aura around her.

Silence filled the arid room, G absentmindedly moving on his own. Arms snaked around Tamia's abdomen catching her by surprise. She flinched with tensed muscles before relaxing, knowing she wasn't in any danger.

"Thanks for caring, Doll," G thanked in a hushed tone. A small heat crept up on her cheeks, expression somber. 

"You're... welcome."