Her Right Mistake

(33) Vren

Regina opens the door to his office, her head bobbing out of the opening. "Ms. Danler is here to see you." There was mirth in her smile and a wag in her eyebrows.

Although puzzlement registered before pleasure, he ran a hand through his hair, ironing his tie with his palm. He raises from his seat and clears his throat. "Send her in."

His secretary made a crowing noise. "All right."

Vren drummed his fingers on his desk. He waited for one more harrowing second and decided, to hell with it, he's going to her.

He walked around his desk and padded across his office to the door. He opened it, finding Audrey on the other side of the door.

She stood there, her eyebrows in a beautiful crease. She had both arms tucked over her chest and she was giving him the baleful narrowed eyes.

"Hi." He smiles.

Audrey put her hand flat on his chest, deliberately shoving him back inside. "Have you seen the papers?"

"What papers?" He lets her push him all the way in.

She pressed a newspaper on his chest, locking the door behind her. "You forgot you went on a date with a woman last night?" Her tone was calm, but her hand was heavy on his chest.

Confused, he reads the paper. There was a picture of him and Taylor Watkins in a restaurant where his secretary arranged their meeting. "It wasn't a date, Audrey."

"Oh, okay." She pressed her lips together and said nothing more. She paced past him and stared at the view behind his swivel chair.

"Audrey, it was a business meeting. I can call in my secretary." He follows her, looping his hand with hers even when she was looking at anything but him. Her head is locked straight ahead.

Audrey made a slight shake of the head. "No. That's ridiculous."

"But you're clearly upset." He hadn't been thinking a meeting with a business associate would make a headline on the papers the next day.

He used to have his name plastered on the newspaper in his 20s. God, the idiotic exploits his young airhead self has associated with his name. He sure did gave the tabloids a readership boost when he pulls off a witless stunt. He didn't care about the profit publications benefited from his moronic ways.

Now, he does though.

It's been a while since he's seen his name on one of the crappy tabloids. If he did appear on one, it was with Audrey Danler. The only woman that matters to him.

"I'm not, Vren," she answered abruptly.

"Can I see your face then?" His arm snakes around her waist, hugging her from behind.

She didn't budge from the contact. She was either too upset to pay him any attention or she just didn't mind.

He was hoping for the latter. He felt her heaved out a sigh and turned all the way around to face him. His finger traced her shoulder. He inches his face closer until his lips were on the wrinkling skin between her knitting brows.

She closes her eyes, her tensed shoulders relaxing. "Vren," she sighed.

"Hmm?"

Her eyes opened. She tugged his hands from her face and held it between them. "I don't like this."

"Having my hands on you?" He murmurs.

She shakes her head. "Let me just step out a bit. I need to clear my head." She steps aside, away from his proximity.

Vren shoved his hands in his pockets, his gut knotting.

She paces in front of him, her heels stabbing the floor noisily. He doesn't dare interrupt her. She needed the quiet. And space. The clicking stopped when she plucked out another sigh. Her hand is over her chest.

"So" – he leans back on his desk in attempt to hide his own turmoil – "what do you not like?"

"Getting so riled up. Not thinking straight." Audrey fisted her hand on her hip. "And I just realized you told me about a business meeting last night." She made another trip to his leather sofa and back to the same spot. "To think that I got so riled up over a stupid thing, makes it a whole lot bigger pill to swallow."

"Audrey."

She shakes her head. "I don't like it that you have the upper hand."

Vren exhaled a bit knowing his heart wasn't on the line in this discomfiting conversation. "What upper hand?"

"Yes. Upper hand. Noun. If you have the upper hand, it means you have more power than the other party involved in the same situation."

He almost break into a chuckle. He forgot he's talking to an editor in chief who's been around journalists with a hundred synonyms just about anything that comes up in a casual conversation. "Let me straighten things up, Audrey. I can't have the upper hand here when I'm the one falling head over heels in love with you."

Audrey flinched in surprise.

Shit.

Well, that was smooth. Just what he had in mind. He just gouge his heart out of his sleeve. But he doesn't take it back.

It's the whole goddamn truth. He shifted to another foot as he waited for her to recover from the wild and romantic declaration of his feelings. "Audrey?"

She blinks, her cheeks a touch of pink.

He scratched the back of his neck. "We don't have to talk about it now. Can I get a hug though?"

Audrey was a statue. She locked eyes with him, her face turning a little bit redder. She shuffled toward him, not leaving his gaze. Her face wasn't cueing anything – much to his torture. For one brief second, he sees finality. Her arms went around him, her head nestling on the crook of his neck.

He smiled. He was one staggering reluctance away from fist pumping. There wasn't any rejection.

Yet.

"Vren, I'm starving," Audrey grumbles out of the blue.

He chuckles and tugs her closer to his chest. "What do you want to eat?"

"As of the moment? I'm thinking everything."

Vren kisses the side of her head. "Let's get you everything then."

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