His Personal Assistant

"Something you can put on display for me in the bedroom."

We enter the building. Israel's fingers intertwined with mine.

"You don't have to walk me all the way up." I stop Israel.

"Yeah well I want to. And plus I haven't seen Christian in a while." Israel explains pulling me towards the elevators.

And of course we're greeted by Miss. Campbell and her shiny ass bun.

"Mr. Parker." She says with her chipmunk sound a like voice.

"Good morning." Israel nods at her not giving her any eye contact.

He clenches his jaw a guides me into the elevator as soon as one of them open.

"You know Campbell?" I question looking up at him.

"Yeah." He nods looking up at the numbers as we go up the floors.

"How?" I insist on knowing more.

He looks down at me and his features soften before he quickly looks back up.

"I'm here a lot." He explains.

That makes sense.

We exit onto Christian's office floor.

We walk down to Christians office room. I knock on the big wooden doors before opening the door.

I barge in after not being responded to. It's empty.

Where is Christian?

Israel walks past me checking all the rooms.

"Where the he'll is he?" Israel asks pulling his phone out. He dials a number and presses the phone against his ear and looks down at me.

"Christian. Man where are you Annika is here waiting for you." Israel explains still making eye contact with me.

He turns away from me and speaks on the phone before hanging up. 

"He's in BoraBora." Israel says looking at me with a confused expression. "He said you knew already." Israel looks at me waiting for a response.

"Oh yeah that crossed my mind. I'm an idiot." I slap my forehead like a three year old.

"You can drive my car back home if you'd like." He offers walking towards the office door.

"Ah. No I'll pass on that." I exit the room before Israel.

"Okay. Um I can call a taxi. Or even better I'll call Holland. She's been dying to meet you properly." Israel explains his face lighting up in excitement.

Nooooo. I don't think that's a good idea. I don't do friends. Especially girl- friends.

"No. I don't want to bother her. It's fi—."

"No. No. Don't worry about it. She'll love it. Promise." Israel states already pressing his phone against his ear.

Crap.

Stop him. The first and last time I met Holland I practically called her a slut with my glares. And now I'm going to encounter her and I'm positive she won't be as friendly as she was before.