Chapter 17
**CHLOE DUARTE**
As he drives I remain completely still, I guess it's the best thing to do when I certainly upset him with my comment.
The sound of a new notification from my cell phone wakes me up from my state, I pick up the device seeing that it is a message from Samanta advising that she is fine and asking if I am already home.
I don't prolong the subject, I just say that I'm on my way before putting the cell phone back in my purse and returning to my silent state with my head leaning against the car seat.
Realizing that the journey to our town is taking too long, I raise my head, seeing that we are about to face long and lasting night traffic caused by some accident up ahead.
I just want to get home and forget about this night, but it seems that my plans have changed and I will have to spend more time with him inside this car and in this disturbing silence.
"You hate me now, don't you?", I break the tension between us without looking at him.
"Why would I, Chloe?", I am surprised by his question, because I was almost sure that he would remain silent.
"I said that you stir things in me, and you still think I hate you?", he continues with a small smile while keeping his attention on the track.
"I am glad to know that you don't hate me, how about we get to know each other better?", I propose with a smile.
"How's that?", he laughs, looking at me quickly as if I were crazy.
"Talk. We're going to be stuck in traffic for a long time, so we can talk about anything to pass the time...", I explain and I see the uncertainty on his face, but he nods in agreement.
"What do you want to talk about, Chloe?"
"Anything, you start!", I turn in the passenger seat to look at him while he thinks about something.
"Why did you leave your family in Brazil and move here?", he takes advantage of the traffic stop to be able to look me in the eye.
It is a common and easy question to answer, but your question makes me think of my family and the homesickness I feel.
"To live my dreams...", I answer with a few words and he arches one of his eyebrows.
"And are you managing to accomplish all of them?", James asks.
"Yes, I'm doing it little by little...now it's my turn", I say euphorically, making him laugh at my exaggerated reaction.
For a few minutes, I allow myself to get lost in the color of his eyes and his full lips while he continues smiling brightly.
"Why did you decide to go into business? You are great and have built an empire, I wonder if you have always wanted to become as successful as you are today."
"No, as a child my dream was to become an architect, I loved to build buildings and houses with blocks, but my goals changed when I reached adolescence."
I try to imagine the mighty James Colucci as a famous New York City Architect, but I can't, it seems he was born to be the amazing CEO of a multinational corporation that he is today.
"What is your other passion besides Administration, Chloe?", I frown at her question, undecided if I should tell her the truth.
But I also remember the other warning left by the former assistant, that James hates lies more than anything.
"Writing stories is my other passion, it is the place where I can be a thousand versions of myself and at the same time invent situations that I wish I could live or witness, writing is my other refuge."
"What kinds of stories do you write?", he asks with an interested tone in his voice, but I deny it with a smile.
"You've already asked your question, now it's my turn, Mr. Colucci!", he grimaces in annoyance, making me laugh.
"How old are you?", I've always been curious to know your exact age.
"I thought that kind of information was published on the Internet, so why are you curious about my age?", he asks, fixing his eyes back on the car in front of him, which starts to move again.
True, I could easily grab my cell phone from my purse and do a quick search on a gossip site where I would find your age, but I won't do that, I want to hear it from you.
"Are you refusing to tell me? Are you that old?", I widen my eyes when I realize what a mistake I just made in practically calling my boss old.
"Do you think I am that old, Chloe?", he stares at me with an annoyed little smile again.
"I'm...sorry...I didn't mean that kind of thing..."
- I'm 34 years old, satisfied? - I don't answer, just process the new information.
Still, in silence I focus all my attention on his face concentrating on the traffic around us, my eyes look from his broad shoulders to his beautiful young face.
He is so perfect that he doesn't even look almost 40 years old, I notice the beard that grows thinly around his firm face, making him even more mature and handsome.
"Why are you looking at me like that?", he asks, his eyes frowning as he notices that I am watching him very closely.
"It's just that you don't look your age, you're very handsome...", I control the immense desire I have to reach out and touch his face.
My exaggerated remark makes him laugh heartily, and I frown when he continues laughing to himself.
"What's wrong?"
"You're very drunk, Chloe. And calling me gorgeous in this car only confirms your state of mind...", he blinks one of his blue eyes causing me to blush rapidly.
"Now it's my turn to ask, isn't it?", I nod, settling into the passenger seat as I wait for his question.
"What kind of stories do you write, Chloe?", he resumes with the same question as a few minutes ago.
"Has that made you so curious?"
"Are you refusing to answer me, Miss Duarte? Everything that comes from you makes me curious, I feel that if I know you, even if I don't," says the last part in a lower tone.
"I still don't know the kind of stories I like to write, since I've just started, but this is a romance.", I tell the truth taking extreme care not to reveal the type of novel.
"What is your novel about?", he asks with interest again.
"I'm still in the beginning, so I don't have a definite idea.", I omit the part where I am relating my life with a little more information and interest.
"What about you? What do you like to do when you are not in the company or taking care of it?", I change the subject before he asks any more questions about the story I am writing.
I notice in his expression that he is about to say something, but he closes his mouth again before anything comes out, he thinks for a few seconds before turning his head to look at me.
"It may sound silly, even the press doesn't know about this passion I have...", he seems hesitant to tell me, but I encourage him.
"You can tell me, I promise not to tell anyone..."
"Flowers. Flowers are my other passion, I know one thing has nothing to do with the other, but touching and taking care of such fragile and strong plants awakens something in me, I said it sounds silly..."
"No, I think it is amazing, do you have a favorite kind?"
My God, am I now the one who is interested in my boss's life?
He may even think that the usually ruthless CEO has absolutely nothing in common with a man with a passion for floristry, but everyone has a sentimental side, even a man with as much influence as he does.
"Roses are my favorite flowers, a beautiful flower like that seems to represent the life that one minute can be blooming and living and the next can..."
" ...die if not taken care of...", I complete with melancholy in my voice realizing that there is a connection to the experiences he had as a child.
"Exactly! Nobody but my father knows that I have a shed of greenhouses located in one of my properties in the interior, some people take care of them in my absence, but I love to get my hands dirty with soil, it is my refuge, do you understand?", he asks with an expression of complicity and soon a smile springs to my lips.
"I understand perfectly...", I whisper, caught in the blue tone of his eyes that fascinate me every time I look.
The sound of a horn wakes us from our trance, James notices in the rearview mirror that the car behind is honking since the traffic has already moved and we are still in the same place.
I lean my head back against the seat back, seeing that our game is over.
"Have you ever done anything that is considered forbidden?", I frown, still staring at the cloudy night landscape.
"Like what?"
"Something that no one but you knows about, something or something forbidden, but that when you remember the sensations it makes you want to experience it all over again, have you ever had that experience, Chloe?", I try to keep my eyes away from her face, for I am sure that my expression will give away my answer.
His question and remarks take me back to the madness of the elevator, he is right, as I remember I can feel it all again, I can recall all the unforgettable sensations of that night.