As they do, my thoughts fade into the memory of when I first met Dante, four and a half years ago.
I was sixteen years old.
My father’soffice smelled like cologne and cigar smoke. The air was warm from thesunlight spilling through the tall windows. That heat only in the room only elevated the scents.
I ended up arriving a little earlier than the time he told me to be there at, but better that than late. I didn’t want to reap the consequences of that specific scenario happening.
As my eyes adjusted to the sun glares that cut through the room, I could make out a tall silhouette in a corner at the back of the room. My eyes squinted slightly to make sure that I wasn’t just seeing things, but it only helped to confirm his presence. This man was leaning against the wall, and seemed to stand at least a foot taller than me.
My gaze trailed from the floor up to his arms that were folded across his chest and then up to the few small strands of hair that hung loosely over his forehead. The sun caught them just right and I could see the color more clearly.
It was a dark brown, nearly black, with just a hint of red glinting in the light. His hair was swept to the side, but not perfectly since loose strands fell over his forehead, giving him a slightly disheveled look.
My line of sight then dropped down to his eyes.
They were brown too. The sun seemed to glimmer enough against them that they resembled a warm chocolate color. I knew if it were night, the shade would be so much darker. So dark, that they would feel endless, like staring into an abyss.
“You’re early,” he said. He didn’t smile fully, but the corner of his mouth quirked up just slightly.
“And you’re not supposed to be in here,” I replied as I clutched the thin folder to my chest.
He raised a brow, seeming somewhat amused with me. “I could say the same about you. Walking into a man’s office like you own the place. That’s bold.”
My head tilted to the side. A smirk forming on my face. “I’m allowed to be in here, unlike you. Whoever the hell you are.”
“You’ve sure got a mouth on you,” he said as he stepped closer.
I let out a low chuckle, “You won’t have one for long when I sew those lips together.”
“Oh? I’m not really sure that’s how you welcome a guest.”
“You think I give a-”
The air between us shifted when the door to my father’s office opened, breaking any tension that was there moments before.
My father entered, commanding the room like every other day. He then nodded towards his desk as he went to take a seat behind it.
I almost tripped over the thick rug that lined half of the room as I moved towards him, but luckily caught my footing.
“Everleigh,” he said, his tone as formal as usual. “This is Dante Rivera. He’s going to be working with us closely from now on.”
The man, Dante, straightened, stepping forward just enough to give a nod, his smirk softened into somethingalmost unreadable. “A pleasure,” he replied smoothly as he tilted his head toward me in a small bow.
My brow raised on instinct, and a sly grin slipped onto my lips. “Oh, I’m sure it will be.”
The words hung between us, a perfect mix of challenge and curiosity, and I had no doubt he felt it too.
My father cleared his throat, snapping me out of the magnetic pull of his gaze. “I expect professionalism. Both of you.”
I gave a subtle nod, not saying another word, but my eyes didn’t leave his.
His gaze held mine for a moment longer, but I forced myself to blink, breaking whatever the hell kind of spell I was under.
Father broke the silence immediately. “Everleigh, did you bring what I asked of you?”
I nodded my head as I placed the folder on his desk in front of him.
He flipped it open, scanning through all of its contents. As he did, my eyes cast to the corner again. Dante was watching me. He wasn’t smiling, but his eyes didn’t stray. He just looked on like there was nothing else in the room to gaze at. I didn’t usually break under pressure, so that wasn’t a problem. But the way he was looking at me was odd.
