**Michelle**
I had said that to distract him from questioning further. How was I to tell him I was hit in the face by my father because of a misunderstanding.
He stared at me, as if debating if he should let it be. “Don’t question further please, don’t question further!” I screamed in my thoughts.
“This is different, Michelle. This is clearly a hit mark on your face, I mean even a kid can tell this isn’t from a fall,” he said, staring hard at me.
I didn’t know what to say next. He was right though, even a blind man could tell it wasn’t from a fall, but i couldn’t just say my father thought I was whoring around and hit me in a fit of anger, can I?
“Please, Vincent. It was just an incident which isn’t going to happen again,” I said to him. I didn’t know if I was trying to convince myself or him. He looked like he wanted to refute, but decided against it. I heaved in relief.
An awkward silence settled in the room, i couldn’t help but blame myself, knowing I was the one who caused it.
Clearing my throat, I spoke gently. “So….huh…what do you think the theme of the annual ball party will be?”
“I don’t know yet, but I am thinking of changing the usual style and make it a masked party.”
“A masked party? I’ve only seen that at movies or read it in a novel, but I think its cool!” I said enthusiastically, imagining how it was going to be.
Just then, the pizza arrived and our conversation was suspended and we began eating.
“Hmm…this is good,” I moaned out loud. I felt being stared at, and I looked at Vincent to see him staring at me, no, my mouth. My cheeks turned pink instantly as I realized my mistake.
“What? Is something wrong?” I asked shyly.
“No. Go on and eat more. You need it more than I do,” he stated, looking away from my mouth. I stared at the pizza on my hand, and the others in the pizza container, wondering how he expected me to finish all this when I am struggling to finish this one slice I have been munching on.
“I’m full. I mean you don’t expect me to finish all these right?” I asked in disbelief. He frowned at my sarcastic question.
“It is just two slice remaining, Michelle, and you have been munching on the first one since.”
“Then, I will keep it and eat it at night,” I said. He made a face at my words.
“Eat cold pizza? You know what? Just eat what you can and dump them.”
“Dump them!” I almost screamed. “There are people out there looking for food to eat. We shouldn’t waste it. Don’t worry, I’m going to eat it or give my coworkers.”
He looked like he was about to give up on me. “Okay, fine. Just do what you want,” he said. I snickered at him, happily munching on my pizza. My phone rang, disturbing the peaceful silence. It was Evelyn. I felt guilty for ditching her the second time. I picked the call.
“Now, tell me. What excuse do you have this time?” She asked, calmly.
“I’m in Vin…..the boss office,” I said.
“Oh, okay. Talk to you later,” she blew kisses and hung up immediately. I giggled, placing the phone on the table. Vincent cocked his eyebrows at me, but didn’t comment.
*ding* a text message entered my phone. Just as I was about to pick the phone, wondering who had texted as I didn’t have much contact, Vincent beat me to it.
“Who is Martin?” I heard him ask, his brows pinched in annoyance.
“Martin?” I asked dumbly, till I remembered he was the guy I met yesterday at the grocery store. “Oh, he’s my friend, I guess. I met him yesterday on my way home,” I didn’t know why I was telling or answering him. I stood up snd collected the phone, staring at the screen.
“Hi. It’s Martin, the guy that walked you home yesterday. Would you be free in the evening, maybe we can meet at a nearby diner?” The text read.
“Don’t you have work to do?” Vincent angry voice asked as I smiled at the text. I frowned at him, forgetting what I was about to do.
“What’s up with your sudden mood swing? I mean it’s still lunch period, so what work is there to do now?” I asked, not understanding why his mood suddenly changed. He stared at me, not answering.
“God! You are worst than a girl on her period,” I muttered underneath my breath, losing my appetite. I placed the unfinished pizza in the carton, covered it and carried it, making my way out of the office.
“Where do you think you are going?” He asked, his eyes almost shooting daggers at my back.
“To get work done,” I answered, not stopping in my tracks. I didn’t know how he stood up and got to my side, but I was suddenly pinned against the door, the pizza almost dripping off my hands as he caged me between me and the door.
I looked up at him as he towered over me. “What are you doing?” I asked, glaring at him.
“What does it look like I’m doing, Michelle?” He countered back. Jesus! I can’t believe this was the cold and domineering man everyone fears. He was behaving like a child.
“Lunch is over, Vincent. I have to get back to work just like you’ve ordered,” I said, sarcastically. He didn’t respond, instead stared at me, rather my lips. What was he doing?
I felt my cheeks heating up as he stared. I keep blushing around him a lot these days. My heart began beating rapidly as I watched him lean his head closer to me, stopping when his lips almost touched mine, and I could feel the warmth of his breath emitting from his nose. I closed my eyes unconsciously.