Chapter 10 CHAPTER 10
ALINA'S POV
"Spunk?"
Huh?
I turned around, the familiar voice pausing me in my tracks. Which wasn't much of a hurried one anyways. "Ms. Vega! Oh wow, you're here."
"Yeah I am," she grinned, approaching me in yet another snazzy outfit. A tailored white blazer over a black mini dress and white canvas to match.
"You look wow!" I gushed, watching her get close. "Are you always so stylish?"
"I like to think I am." She chuckled, flipping her high ponytail. "What are you doing on this side, hun? This section."
"Oh, I was just ...heading over to make an official report." I said dryly, "Not sure I'm on the right path but I was directed this way, so... Here I am I guess."
"You're headed for the boss office? She asked, I nodded, "I'm headed there too. Let's go together."
Like me, she also had a report to make. Everything about yesterday, all packed and itemized in the manner they'd happened, and now going to give Roman the report of it.
Only difference was, he didn't make her stand still while he bashed her in every breath. Didn't let her look or feel like an absolute moron in front of her colleague like he did me.
But I should've known entering that somewhat dark featured private hallway couldn't be good. I mean, it was broad day light, almost every hallway was lit up to properly breath from last night but no. This particular hallway of his didn't do that. So also did the office space inside the hallway, rejected everything good and nice!
“Velvet Confession? Luna’s Sin?" He looked at me, "What is this, Monroe — a lingerie line or a mood board for teenage heartbreak?”
I stilled my jaw. Forcing every word to refute his insults. “They’re themes, not slogans, sir. " I said, "They—
“sound cheap,” he cut in, tone flat. “They sound cheap and I wouldn’t hang such words on a restroom door, let alone an entire wing of my business.”
I bit my tongue down on my tongue, Ms. Vega silent beside me. Her file unopened but bearing the signature of approval on it. Showed how much he trusted her, and downplayed on my very effort right on my first day of work.
"Alina," He leaned back, tapping the papers against his thigh as if to emphasize the point. “You had weeks to prepare this, you even had an introduction last night and couldn't come up with something good? This is the best you can do?”
No it isn't the best, but it could, if you'd at least give it a chance instead of just reading through the titles.
I exhaled through my nose, counting to three. Again. I knew this meeting wasn't something to look forward to, but I also didn’t realize it would mean practicing deep-breathing therapy in front of my own boss!
This was worse than Joe. "The names are meant to capture emotion, not sell perfume." I explained, "Velvet Confession isn’t about fabric; it’s about surrender. The soft kind people don’t talk about. And Luna’s Sin—”
“—is about what?" He raised an eyebrow, taunting, "Howling at the moon after a breakup?”
Oh, you bastard... You big headed, egoistic, arrogant- argh! “It’s about forbidden desire, sir! Not ... Howling at the moon after a breakup.”
What is that anyway? Where was he getting all of these. Last I checked, he wasn't so sharp mouthed. Guess 5 years does lots of things to you.
"So..." He hummed, pretending to think about it. “There's moonlight, guilt, and women whispering into what, pillows? Enlightening really.”
A wheeze filled the air, from the throat of a man standing at the far side of the room. Pretending of course to study the wall and not laughing at his boss jokes.
Even Ms. Vega beside me had a bit of smile on her lips.
I just straightened, lifting my chin despite it all. “If you’d actually read the proposal instead of just the titles, you’d understand the point of each design. The wing isn’t meant to be pornographic; it’s sensual, refined, built on women’s power. Their control. Their gaze. And I do not appreciate your tone, sir."
“So you’re saying women pay to watch men crawl?”
“If that’s what they want, yes.” I retorted, loosing my restraint now. He was hell bent on pushing it anyway, better we get there soonest.
His lips twitched as he stared at me for a bit. “You’re more dangerous than I remember, Alina.”
“And you’re exactly as irritating as I remember.” The words were out before I could reel them back. His brows rose, my nails digging into my palm. And for a long second, the air stretched thin between us — thick with silence, but with a dangerous glint dancing in his eyes.
“You’re braver than you look, aren't you?"
I said nothing. Not trusting myself enough to not tell him to choke on the glass of scotch on his desk.
Finally, “I’ll make the adjustments,” I said, stepping forward and gathering the papers he detached with steady fingers. “We can discuss renaming once the wing structure is clearer.”
“That's not the point here, ” he stopped me, “Your problem isn’t the names — it’s the vision. You keep designing from the neck up. Oxygen sells from the neck down, Alina. This isn't poetry but raw desire!"
I paused. His words hitting hard, but not because of them. Just how he said it, to my face.
Raw desire.
“I design experiences, not cheap fantasies, sir,” I said, refusing to let those green eyes get to me. “If you wanted a mindless siren, you've hired the wrong person. Maybe you should think about that."
"Think about your contract?" He chuckled, “Oh you are brave. Maybe I should call Boldlines and tell them of your incapabilities."
He reached for his phone, taunting obviously. He must know of the sort of person Joe was. The egotistical pompous rubbish that would use anything as leverage against anyone. Not like this bastard in front of me was any better. They may as well be brothers at this point. Behaved so alike and some more.
I just grabbed my papers, ready to leave. “I’ll make the adjustments. If that's all, excuse me.”
I turned for the door, desperate for air, actual oxygen, not this one dripping with ego and testosterone.
But of course, his voice followed.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
"Where else?" I exhaled. “Back to my office. To work.”
“Not yet.”
My head snapped back. “Excuse me?”
His eyes drawled over my frame. Lazy, nose crunched upwards. Slow, deliberate, more than offensive even.
“We have somewhere to go,” he said, already rising. Heading for me at the door and completely taking away all my paperwork. Throwing them back on his desk like they were trash.
My nostrils flared, teeth grinding but he didn't care.
“Go grab your bag, and meet me at the exit in 5."
“W-hat?"
He just walked off then, the other man in the room joining him. Ms. Vega coming close, a little comfort amidst my confusion. "Do be there in 5, he hates waiting." She whispered before leaving me.
Before I could move a muscles, “Now, Alina!” his voice cut through the air, leaving me baffled before measure.
"Just who do you think you are to tell my name?" I gritted, "Wanting me to follow you like some idiot after you just finished demeaning and degrading my hard work!"
I moved though. Doing as told, grabbing my bag and heading for the said exit. But at least I got to use my new exit permit on the doors I passed. That lifted my mood for a bit.
But not for long, "Get in," The command came, door held open and ready. His most arrogant self already seated inside in the sleek vehicle that I knew cost a fortune but his wealth won't faze me.
"Where are we going?" I asked instead, "If I don't know where you're taking me, I won't get in. So start talking."
I crossed my arms, standing in the way of the door so he couldn't just shut it and be on his way. The annoyance of It displaying on his features, giving me a little joy too.
Got to piss him off too. Good.
Finally, he spoke. But not the words I expected. "We're going shopping."
"Eh?"
"I am taking you shopping, Alina. Can't have you looking less than the staff here, so get your ass in!"