Chapter 3

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"Quiet is better than loud."-Dieter Rams

"Morning," he said as she strolled in at seven o'clock on the dot.

He looked like he hadn't slept last night, and judging by the pot of coffee next to him, he most definitely did not.

"Did you sleep?" She asked, throwing her coat onto the coat hanger behind her.

"You sound like my bloody mum," he scoffed.

"Forgive me for trying to be a caring person." She snapped, plopping down into her chair.

Easton almost felt bad for what he had said. Then he remembered her horrible attitude and went back to filling out his paperwork. The girl was bloody annoying. He watched her fiddle with her laptop, cursing to herself when he noticed it wasn't turning on. The way she bit her lip and how her cheeks turned red in frustration was slightly adorable. He also liked the emerald green sweater she was wearing today, it really brought out the amber parts of her eyes.

He shook his head... no. He could not find her attractive. Her was not only her boss, but she was also just downright annoying. He could only imagine what she'd be like on a proper date. She'd probably rattle off about sappy romance books and order something childish like spaghetti instead of lobster. He would be the one to convince her to go see a new french film and eat dinner at the restaurant that overlooks the river. Maybe she owns an emerald green dress as well... he's sure she would look lovely....

"It's snowing pretty heavily out there, are you sure you don't want to close it for the day?" She asked.

He looked back and forth from her and the window. Rolling his eyes, he went back to his paperwork mumbling, "It's nothing compared to a Canadian snow. We will not be closing."

"And how do you know what a Canadian snow is like? You're most definitely British, you nob." She laughed.

"Winter break was always spent with Granddad and Grandmum at the apartment in Montreal, I know what I'm about, love." He said in a condescending tone.

They worked in silence for the rest of the day. The occasional grunt or question was asked, but the two worked simultaneously and impeccably together. It was quite odd to see. At the end of the day, Millie wrapped her scarf around her neck, gave a small wave goodbye to Easton, and then stepped past the big brown doors. Easton sighed, he was almost sad that she had left for the day. Who would he turn to when there was something funny to say or when he wanted someone to yell at?

The big brown doors opened again, sending a gust of cold air into the room and snowflakes onto the carpet. "Look's like I'll be spending the night working with you." She shrugged, smiling.


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