Falling for my boss ✔️

Chapter 52 - May I ask for her hand?

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Hamish's POV

Beaumont Enterprise

Two weeks after France

"Where is that damned thing?", I grumbled, rummaging around through the file cabinet. "I could swear we used it just a few minutes ago!" Did my secretary sort it back already? Usually she waited an hour before she cleaned my stuff up!

"Looking for something?", Michael's voice sounded from the entrance to the filing room, causing me to slightly jump.

My heart was beating a bit faster, but I brushed the jump-scare off. "The darned file on the case we are looking into currently!"

"We are looking into several cases, Hamish. Earltons Buckweaver. Boman. Harkness. Jackson. Peterson. Brown. Be more specific." His voice was cool and analytical as he listed all the current big cases.

His relaxed voice annoyed me. "The Earlton's!", I bit, tossing the files back and forth. File 305. File 305. Where the fuck is file 305? "From the 2005 ordeal. You know the big shabang?" I twiddled my hand into the air.

"Yet again, be more specific. From the accounting we looked into? The changes we made for their warehouse, their filing system? Their turnover from what month specifically?"

Of course he already knew what their case was about – their was not one costumer Michael forgot about. I think the bane of his existence would be Alzheimer's. He always knew every dot of every case, he was prepared to the point where you couldn't surprise him anymore. He knew when a company would go bankrupt before they could announce it.

"Turnover from March 2005. I suspect a fraud."

"Taxes", Michael stated surely.

"Most likely", I nodded weakly, my finger gliding down the 500 row. Maybe somebody misplaced it? "I'm just wondering where the file might be. File 305. I had just used it too!" I grumbled.

"Well", there was a slight pause, Michael shifting onto one leg while the other was bent and stuffing his hands into the pockets of his dress pants "I'm sure my-"

"I swear  to god!", I shut the drawer with a loud smash, the metal sounding pleasantly loud, and forcefully turned to him, aggressively pointing my index finger at him. "If you say that word one more fucking time I'm going to punch your fucking teeth out! All day long. Aaaaaaall motherfucking day long, ever since you both fucking returned, it's been my fiancée this, my fiancée that!"

"Well, my fiancée might know where it is", Michael ignored the rest, shrugged with a grin. A proud grin.

"I'm fairly sure your holy fiancée knows eeeeeverything, Michael!", I stretched out each word with a hand gesture. "I'm sure she knoooows I-"

A soft knock.

We both looked to the door, Michael relaxed, I annoyed.

Behind Michael's massive chest Sara stepped forward, holding a file. She lifted it over Michael's shoulder with a kind smile. "You left that in the conference room Hamish. It has your name on it. I decided to look for you so I could give it back personally."

"How nice of the future Mrs de Beaumont", Michael gave me a grin that proved his point.

Quietly and at a loss for words in my anger, I took it from her hand.

"Also, I had your assistant dig up the emails for this case. I forwarded you those that I found already."

"Thank you", I breathed. Just like Melinda, she was prepared, no kidding. I took a short breath, avoided Michael's shit eating grin and pushed past both.