MY BOSS [the Series]

4: Him

'Him'

"Admit it already, you were checking him out." Beatrice insisted, leaning across to grasp my hands positioned on the table. I knew she noticed when I spaced out at the meeting earlier, I totally expected this, a major attack on my emotions.

"No, I wasn't." I protested weakly, yanking my hand out of hers and burying my hot face in them.

"I knew it, I wasn't mistaken!" She swiftly abandoned the chair and pranced around the office with her slender hands attacking themselves in an excited clap.

"Stop it, Tris." I scolded. She paused in her ecstatic march around my office and pouted.

"Someday, you'll admit it. Did you see the looks on the faces of the women when he smiled? It was as if they had imagined him stripping..." I slapped my hands over my ears to drown out the next set of naughty words she uttered. My hands automatically fell off my ears when her mouth finally stopped quivering.

"Don't you have work to do?"

"Aside from the energy draining documents waiting to be typed, no."

Beatrice strode to a seat and curled her fingers on its top. I nodded my head, having found the perfect way to get rid of her.

"If that's the case..." I trailed off and formed a triangle with my fingers, at the same time noticing the sudden flash of eagerness in her razor sharp eyes.

"...go take care of the documents, they won't take care of themselves." I completed my statement with a toothy grin that made a scowl materialize on her face.

"Very well then, I'll leave." She stuck out her chin and turned to leave.

"And Tris?"

She angrily twirled around.

"Don't forget to shut the door on your way out."

She narrowed her eyes and sashayed out of my office, intentionally leaving the door wide open.

Despite the numerous tasks I occupied myself with, my mind never wandered far away from Tamara. I thought about the kind of treatment she was receiving from the kidnappers.

Were they starving her? Do they beat her? Was she sexually assaulted? The answer to the latter filled me with so much anxiety. Adding to my distress were images of Tamara wearing a dress which was splattered with blood. There was a gory gash situated above her left eye which made me tremble furiously.

It has been a long time since I was overwhelmed by fear of this magnitude, it enveloped me in its enormous and venomous claws, it made me feel helpless by shoving the realization of Tamara's dependence on I and mom's decision, down my oesophagus. After that, it broke me into minute pieces, leaving me emotionally and physically drained.

My phone rang and vibrated, dancing around the table. I half-heartedly thanked the caller for salvaging me from my deplorable condition.

My hand shot out to stop my phone from falling off the table, I glanced at the screen and with a smile, I pressed the ' accept ' button, after which I connected my phone with my ear.

"Hello," his voice swam into my head, leaving behind a pleasant sensation.

"Hey."

A disused paper caught my interest and I reached out to squeeze it into an uneven ball

"How are you feeling?"

"I feel like hell, I feel weak, powerless, vulnerable, I feel entirely terrible."

I choked out as tears filled my eyes. He didn't speak for a few seconds and I knew that he was busy with his thoughts.

"Want to get rid of those feelings?"