annalise
The elevator doorslides open and Maddox steps through, looking like he just walked off a magazine cover. He’s wearing a forest-green button-up shirt with black slacks, and his signature gold chain. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to his elbows, revealing his toned forearms and the tail end of the dragon tattoo. Everyone in the office—including myself—turns their heads to steal a glance.
There are only two men that work here—Reginald, who’s fabulously gay and dresses better than anyone I know, and Henry, the sixty year old maintenance man for the building. It’s safe to say the women in this office have been dying for an attractive man to come through the doors.
So when Maddox is here, everyone seems to find an excuse to talk to him or be near him. I don’t blame them. He’s gorgeous. It’s like God took extra time and care when creating him. But I hate the way my stomach flips every time I see him.
“Remind me why you haven’t banged him again?” Ivy asks, resting her hand on her cheek as she stares at him with heart eyes.
“Because he’s my ex, and a million other reasons.”
“You can be exes with benefits.” She winks at me, nudging her shoulder against mine.
I shake my head. “Absolutely not. No matter how good he is in bed, I’m not going down that path.”Even if the space between my legs is begging me to repeat history.
Maddox walks by and my stomach does a full-on somersault.
“Good morning, Maddox!” Ivy chirps.
“Good morning, Ivy. Morning, Monroe,” he says, flashing me his dimpled smile.
“Good morning, Kama—ah!” My vision goes blurry and my lower abdomen twists with pain.You’ve got to be kidding me… Why now?
Since I’ve been on this birth control, my periods have been super sporadic. I can never tell when it’s coming, and when it does, I’m hit with the worst cramps that make me want to curl up in the fetal position.
Maddox’s brows pinch together, lines of worry etching his face. “Are you okay?”
“I’ll be fine.” I flash him a weak smile before my lips twist in pain. “Ooh,fuck, that hurts,” I hiss, clutching my stomach as I turn my back on Maddox. I reach into my purse for the bottle of ibuprofen that I usually keep there, but it’s nowhere to be found. I must have forgotten to put it back after I took it the other day for my headache. “Ivy, do you have any ibuprofen?”
She sifts through her purse and shakes her head. “No. I’m sorry.” She hands me a pad and tampon instead. “I’ll add hot water to a bottle so you can use it as a heating pad.”
“Thank you.” Pushing myself up, I hobble to the restroom with the pad and tampon. The first two days are usually heavy, so I always use both.
“Damn it,” I groan when I get into the stall. There’s a small stain on my underwear, so now I have to spend the next eight hours feeling absolutelydisgusting.
I wipe up as much as I can before heading back to my desk.
“Here, put this on your stomach.” Ivy hands me the hot water bottle and I place it under my shirt. The warmth lessens the intensity of the cramps, but it’s like putting a Band-Aid on a bullet wound.
“If I have some free time, I’ll stop by the store to get you some meds,” she says.
“Thank you.”
Veronica walks out of her office, her head swiveling around the room. “Has anyone seen Mr. Kamado? I thought he would be here by now.”
“He was here earlier, but just left. Said he had to take care of something and will be back later,” Reginald tells her.
“Oh, I see.” Her eyes flick to mine and her expression immediately changes. “I need you to go to the storage room and organize the materials. I want everything in there neatly organized by the end of the day.”
“I’ll get it done.” I give her a tight-lipped smile and drag myself to the storage room, bringing the water bottle with me.
I open the door and nearly faint when I see the mess inside. The fabrics are supposed to be organized by color and type of material, but they’re all jumbled together. There are scraps offabrics all over the floor, along with threads that have been unraveled or tangled up. I have a feeling Veronica purposely created this mess to make my life harder. I wouldn’t put it past her.
As I reach for the stack of fabrics, a sharp stabbing pain shoots through my abdomen. I double over, gripping my stomach tightly as sweat drips down my forehead and a groan of agony escapes my lips. The water bottle has already cooled off, so it isn’t providing much relief.
Crawling over to the thread section, I attempt to roll them up neatly and organize everything while sitting down.
I’ve managed to get a few done when there’s a knock on the door. I huff a sigh. It’s probably Veronica coming to ask me to do another ridiculous task.
