It had been a week since I saw Mallory and I had already finished working with her uncle. I hadn’t talked to her; in fact, I hadn't even gone to the coffee shop in case I saw her and was tempted. Edgar had been on my ass so I knew I needed to take a break from her. Especially since somehow, Edgar found out I was alone with her at Piccola Isola.

I went back to my messages and looked up his text.

I almost had a heart attack when I saw that text, but I knew he hadn't told Nico or else I would have already been skinned alive and ripped away from any hope of having a good life. A happy life. I also knew that when I was on my break, Edgar was on his break, which meant he wasn’t getting paid. My father might be a rich man, but he was cheap. So anything and everything he saw was just observation not hardcore information he could give Nico.

So did this mean Edgar was poking around because he was knee deep in boredom and wanted some fun? Or was my dad actually paying him to stalk me outside of work hours? Honestly, who fucking knew ... all I knew was that I had to keep my distance from Kitten until I knew I was okay.

I headed out of my office, saw Edgar leaning against the wall with his foot on the wall, and went downstairs. I felt my babysitter follow me, keeping his distance. I headed downstairs noticing that no one was making a sound, not even breathing. I went into Bruce’s office which was piled with the folders, paper work and empty Billy’s Burger wrappers.

Bruce was a good guy. He did his work extremely well, he was always on time and he was likable. He made people laugh, sometimes because he made a funny joke, but mostly because he had a laugh that was infectious. He was also one of the rare married men in the office who chose to be fateful, for which I respected him because it seemed like no one can keep it in their pants nowadays. He was a great man, but there was something that always bothered me.

The fact that he left his million dollar paying job to start from scratch at NR. And when I meant start from scratch, I meant start from scratch. He took the pity cases that no one wanted to touch with a ten foot pole because they didn’t pay enough, and he put his heart and soul into it. I meant he had enough qualifications to become CEO (which was why my dad once worried about him), but he chose to start from the beginning. Like hitting a reset button.

I wanted to ask him about it, but I kept our work week very professional. I didn't bother asking him questions about his personal life or Mallory, even though every fiber in my body wanted to know every detail. From her favorite food to her biggest pet peeve. From her darkest moments to her fucking menstrual cycle. I wanted to know everything because I wanted the jump. The jump that made my blood jet through my body when I saw her nipple piercing or her AC/DC shirt or even the fact that she loved it rough and wanted to bite me all over, which I would let her do in a heartbeat. However, the part of me that wanted to know everything about Mallory was the addict in me. And I knew better than to feed it with a silver spoon.

Bruce was so bewitched by the tabs on the manila folders, searching for a specific label, that he didn’t see me. I knocked on the door and his eyes shot up with fear like he knew he had done something bad and had to confess.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to forget the report at home. I called Mallory to drop off the case. She should be here in a few minutes before Mr. Rammus arrives.”

… before Mr. Rammus arrives?

My heart, or what was left of it, dropped so far south I thought it destroyed my other organs in the process.

“Did you say Nico was coming here? Today?” I blinked slowly.

“Yeah, the check up,” Bruce mumbled under his breath going back to his tabs, double — no — triple checking to make sure everything else was in order.

I just called Mallory to drop off the case. She should be here in a few minutes …

“And Mallory is coming here, right now? In this building? Today? Where Nico is coming?” My voice was going higher with each question.

“Yeah, in a few minutes. She said she’s just trying to find a parking spot.”

... in a few minutes ...

Fuck. Fuck! FUCK! I yelled over and over in my head like all the years of my private school education had failed my vocabulary. I looked at my watch and saw that it was almost nine o’clock.

How could I forget about the check up? He came four times a year to check everything was in order, on the same fucking month. On the same fucking date. At the same fucking time. In fifteen fucking minutes!

She should be here in a few minutes ...

I headed to the elevator and pushed the button to go down. It took all of my strength to not push the down button like a crazed maniac. I still had Edgar on me, peeking around the corner, taking notes of my behavior or anything that looked interesting enough to report to Nico.

I took a deep breath and raked my hand through my hair, feeling my carelessness and Bruce’s negligence mixing together to create a new feeling. A feeling like everything around me was collapsing, but I was frozen on the ninth floor dangling on by a frail string.

The feeling that Nico was going to see Mallory and rip her apart because she not only looks different but because he is expecting her to be my mistress. Because he expected me to cheat on my (mostly his) lovely Kathy, a woman he thought could produce him a new puppet. One who is shiny and new and easy to mold into an exact version of himself and stick a “seal for approval” on her forehead.

Or worse, he was expecting to find out about another fake girlfriend I paid off to get him off my back.

The elevator binged and with twelve minutes to spare, I found Mallory in a heartbeat the second I got down. Her elbows were on the security guard's desk asking a question. The guard pointed to the door and Mallory looked my way, a little bit shocked but mostly pleased to see me. Her hair was a wavy mess, which fit her better than her pin straight hair. And she had on a black and white sleeveless dress — which meant no panties — that got guards’ attentions as she walked toward me with a small smile. A smile I knew was going to go away in a few seconds because of me.

“Hey, I’m here to drop of Bruce’s report,” she showed me the folder.

I went for the folder, but she pulled away.

“What are you doing?” she gave me a flirty stare.

“I’m going to bring the report upstairs so your uncle can get it.” My eyes preyed on the disgusting pale yellow folder.

“I can give it to him. He told me to guard it with my life,” she smirked. She was trying to be cute — and she was, oh God, she fucking was — but at this moment, at this time, I was not in the mood.

“Stop being childish and give me the fucking folder,” I gritted.

Her face fell cold. “You’re one to talk. You fucking disappeared for a week after we had a good time.” She hid the folder behind her back.

I grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the empty stairway no one ever used. The metal door closed behind us and I pried the folder out of her hand with no pity. I turned around sharply and headed upstairs.

Mallory was furious, but I could deal with her later.

“What the fuck is your problem?” She stopped me right before I took another step. “One minute you have a fucking step-by-step plan to get me to the restaurant, and the other minute you act as if I’m the bubonic plague?”

I choked the stair rail, but it didn't snap, so, instead I snapped at Mallory without even thinking about what I was saying.

“Don’t ever fucking set foot in this building.” I turned around and pushed her in the corner without even touching her. Mallory stepped back so hard the wind was knocked out of her lungs. “I’m fucking serious. If I am working, you are nowhere to be seen. No fucking pink hair. No piercing. No cat-smelling-like-fish tattoo. No you. Period. Not while you look like you. No you! And if I see you anywhere near here ever again, I will kick you out with no fucking mercy. Do I make myself clear?”

The space between us was barely visible as my lips hovered over hers. Mallory’s breath was heavy and minty and full of curses she was holding back. Her eyebrows met in the middle, furiously beautiful, and her nose flared up like a tulip in the spring. Her eyes on the other hand were filled with tears, waiting but refusing to fall.

“Go fuck yourself, Leo.” She shoved me back as hard as she could and I stepped back, taking the outrage because I deserved it. Her hands still felt like they were on my chest, instead of next to her side balled up in a fist ready to pounce. But she was too nice to hit me.

“Fuck you and your little game.” Mallory’s teeth grinded so tightly I heard it, sending a shiver down my spine. She pushed one more time, this time keeping her hands a little bit longer on me. There were only a few moments of silence between us as she sniffed in her tears and pulled her dress hem.

“Fuck you, Leo” she said in a normal voice and headed to the door, leaving me alone with nothing but a sore chest and crumbling thoughts with one thing on my mind.

Seven minutes left.

I grabbed the folder and headed upstairs. Not feeling numb, or sad, or pissed, but feeling a new high. I rubbed my chest, her angry touch still burning my flesh.