SABRINA
Igiggle to myself. Saint is entirely too wide and long for the chairs in the waiting area, although he actually looks comfortable stretched out with his arms behind his back and his legs crossed at the ankles.
He also looks absolutely mouth watering. Freshly showered, dressed in a dark blue hoodie, jeans and sneakers, and I can smell his yummy ass from here. He makes it difficult to stay angry with him.
"Like what you see?"
"I'm not looking at much."
"Should we go somewhere private, so you can get a better look?"
I can't believe he's doing this in front of people I work with.
"Are you showing off for Kate right now?"
"Can I get you anything, Mr. Stevenson?" Kate grins. No doubt loving the exchange between us. More gossip for the office. I'm going to kill Saint.
He's different today.
He seems intense.
And he's delivering his one-liners with a little edge to his voice.
He responds to Kate's question without ever taking his eyes off of me. "Thank you, Kate. It's nice to see that someone has some manners around here, but I'm going to grab something when I take Miss White here to lunch."
"I already ate."
"You never eat."
"She's telling the truth, Mr. Stevenson. We had morning buns and coffee in the conference room not too long ago."
"Big meeting today?" Saint asks Kate while still basically eye fucking me.
"The biggest! Spin was here and Sabrina–"
"Thank you, Kate," I cut her short. "But I'm sure Mr. Stevenson doesn't want to hear all the boring details."
"Oh right. Sorry."
"Are you going to feed me or not?" Saint asks suddenly impatient. "Since you don't want to talk about your big meeting."
"You should have called first to check my availability. You've got thirty minutes tops."
"Well aren't you just a basket of roses and sunshine. What crawled up your ass today?"
"Nothing." Captain Obvious.
I take Saint to the first bistro I see near the office, and am waiting for him to complain about it. The more time I spend around him, the more I'm learning. Even though he eats a lot of it, he's quite particular when it comes to food. He pretty much sticks to a high protein and veggie diet (unless it's game day, then he carb loads), and he tends to pick high-end places a.k.a. places I can't afford to eat.
"I can't eat here," he gripes as he slaps the menu down loudly on the table. Boy that hissy fit didn't take long at all.
"Why?"
"These kiddie sized chairs are hard. I can barely fit in them." He wiggles his butt to demonstrate.
"The food is good."
I've actually never been here before a day in my life.
