I glare at him as he stalks up to me in my office/the reception area, and I slide my phone away.
"Nothing."
"It doesn't look like nothing. It looks like you're wasting time on your phone."
I wasn't wasting time. Okay, maybe I was a bit.
I was checking to see if Alex had texted me, but other than him saying his business trip got super busy and he would be in touch when he could, I haven't heard from him.
And I try not to take it personally. I really do.
But it is hard.
Especially with Atilla the boss glaring at me.
"What?" Then I swallow. "What do you want?"
"What? What do I want?" he mimics. "I sent you an email asking you to come into my office ten minutes ago, and you haven't bothered to open it."
I look at my emails and frown. There is nothing from him there.
Then I look at the other screen for his appointments and such. And there is an email, nestled among the emails he told me not to open.
"If you sent it to my work email, I would have seen it." I remain as professional as I can. "Or you could have used the phone."
There is a beat of silence that says way too much.
"The phone you're using on work time?" Enzo asks.
I grit my teeth and try to smile, but I can't do it.
The report hasn't come in from the PI, and by now I'm hoping it is a fucking hit job on him. Although, when Silas called to give me an update Wednesday, he told me he doesn't have much so far, and nothing to warrant running and screaming from, but he will keep digging deeper.
I slap it on the desk. "I'm not using it. I happened to look at it."
"Keep your socials to your own time and your phone away, or I will confiscate said phone. My office. Now."
He turns and stalks off, his phone ringing.
He pulls it out and starts talking as if he is picking up in the middle of a conversation.
I half rise.
Does he want me in there now? Or after his call?
If he wants someone to take minutes, then I'm the wrong person for that. I don't do minutes. I don't even know what it means.
Shit, I don't even know if people take minutes anymore.
I put my hands on my desk and practice slow breathing.
He pokes his head out of his office, phone away from his ear, and says to me, "What part of now don't you understand, Lola?"
God, I want to boil him in oil. And it doesn't help that beast mode suits him on some level. It gives him a hate-sex edge that I'm both drawn to and repelled by.
Repelled because how can I be attracted to him on the level of thinking of sex when I don't like him?
"Lola?"
