His Secretary

Chapter 8: Zoe

"Let me take you lunch." Mr. Johnson said rolling up his window to save himself from the rain.

I pulled up my purse from the floor and pulled out my wallet.

Three ones looked back up at me.

"I can't, I don't have any money." I say and put it back in my purse and put it on the ground.

His eyebrows drew together, "Your not paying. I am." He put his hand to his chest.

I could smell his cologne. It was a strong woodsy smell.

"I couldn't let you pay for me, Mr. Johnson." I say.

"Oh please." His focus turned from to to the front. "Shane, take us to Deatré." He ordered the driver.

Shane obliged with a nod of his head and took a right turn.

Mathew leaned back in to his seat, situating himself to face me.

We sat in silence for a minute.

"Do you miss her?" He asked suddenly.

"What?" I asked taken by surprise.

"Youre sister. Do you miss her?"

I looked down. "Well. It happened last night, so it hasn't really sunk in yet. Im still waiting for her to, like, call me any minute now wanting to tell me how her day was. I guess I'm in denial or something. I think I miss her and my mind just hasn't wrapped around it yet."

He looked at me, examining my face and my hands, which I was wringing together.

"I lost my father- well, he's not dead, he basically left us for the magazine. He totally dropped his family for a job." He ran his hand through his gelled locks and a strand fell across his chocolate brown eyes. "He gave me the company when I turned 18 since I'm his favorite  son, and he needed a legacy."

"Where is he now?"

He motioned his hand like he was swatting something away. "Somewhere in California. He's controlling a different branch of the magazine from there."

"Yeah because my sister dying and your dad leaving you is the same." I say snarkily.

"Well its not really the same thing. I was just saying that we've both lost someone. Yours may be worse than mine, and I may not know the pain you're going through, but I've gone through something like it." He clenched his jaw.

We sat in silence for a minute or two, both of us looking out of the window, watching the skyscrapers pass.

"Thank you for trying to make me feel better. The pain is still new." I turned my head to him.

He was still looking out of the window and he solemnly nodded in response. I stared at his perfectly shaped jawline and his protruding cheekbones. His dark eyelashes fanned out in front of his dark brown eyes, and his well kept facial hair made me want to reach out and touch him, to run my finger across his plump lips, or to have his eyelashes brush my cheekbones.

"See something you like?" He chuckled, looking at me from the corner of his eye.

I blushed furiously and didn't respond. Instead I busied myself with picking up my purse and going through it.

The car pulled over to the curb and Shane looked at us through the rearview mirror. "We're here sir."

"Thank you, my good man." He reached up and patted him on the shoulder and climbed out of the car.

I threw my purse over my shoulder and stepped out of the car and looked up to the beautiful restaurant in front of me.

"Wow..." I mutter.