Crossing the Line

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Crossing the Line Page 9

by Annabelle Eaton


  Aden’s jaw clenches again and he nods. Hey he has no right to be jealous after going to lunch with my sister. “We’ve got a lot to do this afternoon, Amelie. Maybe you could say goodbye to your friend now and come into my office?”

  Matt holds his hands up. “Sorry I’ve been keeping her from work. It was nice to meet you, Aden.” Matt slaps my arse as he turns and walks back towards the lift. I need new friends.

  Aden’s mad, that’s clear from the tension in his shoulders and the daggers he’s shooting into Matt’s back. I don’t care, though. Well, that’s a lie, but there is no way I’m letting him know that.

  Once we’re in his office, I pull up a chair and prepare myself for a torturous afternoon working closely with him. “How was your lunch?” I force out.

  “Productive.” Okay, that gives me nothing. What the hell kind of date is productive? “How was your lunch?”

  “Interesting.” If I’m getting nothing, then neither is he.

  “I’ll bet it was,” he mumbles under his breath. My hand automatically wants to reach for the letter opener. I want to jam it into his eye, but I manage to control myself. Murder probably isn’t a good idea, and I don’t think I could convince a jury it was in self-defence.

  Clenching my hands together, I look at Aden. “What?”

  He shakes his head. “Nothing, just forget it.”

  “No,” I snap. Who is he to judge me? I’m not even sleeping with Matt, and if I was it has nothing to do with him.

  “Amelie, it really doesn’t matter. What, or who, you do has nothing to do with me. Oh and how can you only think you’ve slept with him?”

  “Way to contradict yourself there. I didn’t think it had anything to do with you?” I say sarcastically. How I haven’t been fired by now is a mystery. He narrows his eyes, clenching his jaw. “And how dare you judge me when a few days ago you were sleeping with me and now you’re dating my sister.” I push myself up from the chair. What little self-control I have is now officially gone. My heart races and hands shake with anger.

  Aden frowns; pretending to be confused, and I want to punch his beautiful face. “Date?”

  I roll my eyes. He’s going to try denying it? “Really, Aden?”

  He sighs in frustration. “Just go back to your office, we’ll do this tomorrow.”

  “Fine.” I grab my bag and slam his door as I storm out.

  I pace my office, trying to calm myself down. My blood is boiling in my veins. Stupid, idiot man. I hate him. The pacing doesn’t help; it just makes my heels rub against my feet painfully, which in turn, makes me madder. I flop down on the chair and decide to do some Internet shopping. Yeah, he can pay me to shop for the afternoon.

  An email from Christie pops up in my Inbox with this gem of advice: Open your heart and let him in, you never know where you’ll end up.

  So I think I would have preferred a Will’s answer of ‘jump him’. And I’m pretty sure it’ll end up with me getting my heart broken. I really should have stayed away from him and gone for someone completely different to the men in my world.

  I ignore all advice and move on to work emails. These I will have to think about and respond to so hopefully I can forget about that sister shagger.

  Twenty minutes and three new pairs of shoes later an instant message pops up on my screen. Apparently he won’t let me forget about him.

  Aden Ford: It wasn’t a date.

  It wasn’t a date? It sure sounded like one when Isabel confirmed the details. Is he telling the truth? My heart leaps. I hope so. What else could he have been doing going to lunch with Isabel though? And with my mum. My stomach turns and I punch myself in the side of my head to try and force out the incredible disturbing image that’s just invaded my mind.

  “What are you doing?” Aden asks, looking at me like I’m insane. Oh. He’s standing by the door in my office and he’s just witnessed me punching myself. No way I’m answering that; he’ll think I’m a sick pervert. He holds his hands up. “Actually, don’t tell me. Sometimes, it best not to know with you.” I glare at him, which just makes him flash me that sexy smirk. If I wasn’t completely mad at him, I’d be drooling right now.

  “Did you need something?” His eyes flickers down my body for a second. I raise my eyebrows. Good luck with that one, buddy.

  “You didn’t reply, so I came to make sure you’re okay.”

  “Well I’m fine. Thank you for your concern.”

  He sighs heavily, looking a little sad and then walks towards me. “It wasn’t a date, Amelie. I had a meeting with your uncle about insurance. Isabel and your mum invited themselves.” Oh. Maybe I should have stalked his diary. I don’t know what to say. My face heats up. I’ve made such a fool of myself yet again.

  “Why didn’t you just tell me that?” I ask quietly and stand as he approaches. He stops when our chests are almost touching. My breath catches in my throat. Why does he have that effect on me? It’s annoying and makes me say and do stupid things, even more than usual.

  He smirks again. “I tried. You either walked off or snapped at me.”

  “Right. Sorry.” I grimace. I did do that.

  “It’s okay,” he whispers, staring down at me with those perfect blue eyes. “I should go. I have a meeting with my father now.”

  I gulp as his eyes flick to my lips then back up. The energy between us sparks and heat rushes between my legs. “You have too many meetings,” I reply breathlessly.

  He smiles. “Tell me about it. Well, I’ve got to go and be bored to death for the next hour. Could you take the files on my desk to Samia, please? After you’ve finished your shopping or course.”

  He laughs as he leaves my office. Not to self: close the shopping tab when the boss walks in.

  Smiling, I sit back down at my desk. It wasn’t a date. Wow, they had to crash a meeting to get Isabel a non-date with a man. Things really are getting worse for them. I almost feel sorry for my sister.

  Chapter Nine

  I walk into the house with a huge, smug smile on my face. Things between me and Aden may be colder than the Antarctic right now, but at least he wanted to spend time – and naked time – with me. Mum and Isabel are sitting in the dining room drinking tea; they look up as I enter the room. How they don’t die of boredom doing nothing all day, I don’t know.

  “Hey,” I say and sit down.

  “Hello, Amelie,” Mum replies politely, gesturing towards the tray of tea.

  “No thanks. So, how was your day?”

  Isabel frowns, looking at me like I’m crazy. I wonder after how many more people that look at me like that I should consider get myself committed? Perhaps she’s just wondering why I sat with them voluntarily. “Very good, thank you. How was work?” She had to force that out. I don’t get why working is such a problem for her and the painfully boring women she hangs out with. I’m so lucky that the lazy, boring, judgmental and stuck-up gene skipped me.

  I shrug and try my hardest not to look too smug. “Awesome.” As usual I receive a sour, sucking on a lemon look for my choice of words. I’m not supposed to use words that make me seem my actual age. “Lunch good?” I ask, staring straight at Isabel.

  She smiles, her green eyes glistening. “Very good. Aden is incredible.” I smirk, knowing exactly how incredible he is. “I’m thinking of asking him to accompany me to the charity ball.”

  “We’ll be in Dublin then.”

  “We?” Mum pipes in.

  “Yes. Business trip, so ow, we won’t be able to make it.” I pout my lip, pretending to be upset. Inside I’m dancing.

  “Right,” Mum replies, blinking heavily in shock. A woman going away for anything other than leisure or a shopping weekend. “And you’ll be going with Aden?”

  I nod. “Aden, Richard and Richard’s PA, Amanda Fell. Anyway, I would love to stay and chat, but I have things to do.” Like eating soap or sticking pins up my nails.

  “See you at dinner. Seven o’clock please, Amelie.”

  “I know what time
dinner is, Mum.”

  “Then would you please try to make it on time.” She said the words polity, but they are laced with sarcasm.

  I stand up, placing my hand over my heart. “Of course I can.” Walking out of the room, I roll my eyes.

  My phone starts ringing as I step into my room. “Hello?” I say, not even bothering to look at he caller ID.

  “I can see you.” Immediately, I stand still and the hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention. What? Looking at the screen is no help as it reads: Unknown. Am I being stalked? But who the hell would want to stalk me?

  “Who is this?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know,” the muffled voice says.

  “I didn’t ask for the fun. Oh my god, if you start asking what my favourite scary movie is I’m gonna-”

  “Amelie, it’s Aden,” he says, chuckling darkly.

  I blow out a sigh of relief. “You calling for a reason or just creeping?”

  He laughs. “Creeping?”

  “Never mind. What do you want?”

  “Well,” he says, and the tone in his voice tells me he wants something. “How would you feel about a working lunch tomorrow?”

  “What?”

  “I know it‘s a strange concept to you as you barely work when you’ve supposed to today, but tomorrow I’m meeting with someone to go over new investment and I’d like you to attend.”

  “Okay. What do I have to do?” I thought the investment people are in Dublin? I suddenly realise I’m pretty clueless about all this business stuff. But then I’ve never studied it. Part of me wants to, though. I’d love to eventually do something of my own, to work for myself.

  “Nothing,” he replies. I frown. What the hell is the point of going if I’m going to sit there like a spare part? He groans. “Okay, your mum and sister will, apparently be at the same restaurant, and I don’t want to be alone with them. No doubt they’ll corner me after the meeting.”

  “Really?” I say enthusiastically. “So by coming tomorrow I’ll be doing you a favour right?”

  “What do you want, Amelie?”

  “Hmm.” I pause to think. What did I want? Money? Diamonds? Chace Crawford and Kellan Lutz tied to my bed? Last one, definitely the last one.

  “How about double pay for tomorrow and an extra weeks holiday,” he offers. Now I’m not stupid; that is a good offer, too good for a first offer, which means he’s desperate, and if he is desperate, I’m getting more out of this.

  “A months double pay and two weeks extra holiday,” I counter.

  “Amelie,” he says, groaning.

  “You don’t think an hour of my mother is worthy of all that?” My God he is getting away with barely anything in return.

  “Yeah, fine. It’s a deal.”

  “Awesome! Good doing business with you. Oh and is this guy the same as the Dublin ones?”

  “Yes, he’s in London for the week on other business but has made time for me. It was good doing business with you too. Goodbye, Amelie.”

  I hang up and change into a long t-shirt and leggings so I can chill out before I have to do all the fake smiling at dinner. Lying down on my bed, I lazily use the remote to turn on my stereo. Music is the only reason I haven’t murdered my entire family yet. It de-stresses me. Whenever Mum is being a stuck up cow – which let’s face it, is ninety-nine per cent of the time – I come upstairs and listen to music.

  I must have fallen asleep because I wake to Isabel shaking my arm. “Amelie, dinner,” she snaps, frowning in annoyance. The clock in front of me says it’s five minutes past seven. Great, I’m going to get shit for being late.

  Isabel walks into the dining room before me, trailing back a bit is my plan, she’s my human shield, and something I can shove at Mum if needed.

  The first thing that registers as I take my seat is how pissed both my parents are. They have matching angry eyes. After years of marriage, they’ve become the same person. Christ it’s five damn minutes, yet they’re staring at me like I’ve just murdered a litter of bunny rabbits. “So, what’s for dinner?” I ask politely, smiling as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

  “Do you know what time it is, young lady?” Dad asks. Uh oh, young lady means deep shit for Amelie.

  “Why yes father, it’s…” I trail off, looking at my watch. “Eight minutes past seven.”

  “I think you should take your dinner in the kitchen tonight, Amelie. In fact, for every time you’re over five minutes late you’ll eat in the kitchen,” Mum says sternly as if she’s delivering a punishment. My mouth drops open. That’s all I have to do?

  Smiling as I pick up my plate, I walk through the dining room and into the kitchen. Every night I’m coming down seven minutes late. Wow Mum really doesn’t know me at all. Punishment would be eating with them and listening to how amazing Isabel’s future is going to be and how I’m going to end up working in McDonalds, living in a flat above a kebab house with two toddlers running me ragged. Even if that is my future, at least it’d be real.

  The staff are preparing dessert as I eat. They look up but don’t say anything. I’m not sure if they’re even allowed to speak if they’re not spoken to.

  While I eat dinner, I wonder if when I move out I will still see my family, or if it’ll just be at Christmas and Birthdays? Usually when you move out of your parents’ house they help you decorate and buy you a house-warming present, but I can’t see my parents doing that. If I move in with some rich man to become a housewife and mother, it’d be a completely different story. Though we don’t get on, I still love them. Will that be enough for them to be happy for me, even if they didn’t agree with what I choose?

  I inhale my food, not needing to be all lady-like about it as required by my mother and shoved the plate in the dishwasher. Normally someone would appear and take the plates away – I’m not actually allowed to do it myself. Once back in the safety of my room, I grab chocolate from my mini fridge and lay on the bed to watch Sex and the City. Now those women know how to live!

  Chapter Ten

  Thing have gotten progressively worse. My feelings for Aden are growing at a frustratingly fast rate – they should be shrinking – and I want to jump him all the time. Seeing him every day, looking like a fucking model in an expensive tailored suit is painful. I saved him from Mum and Isabel at the lunch meeting, one look at me and they never even came to say hello. Things are likely to get even worse because today is business trip day, meaning time alone with him away from work.

  Standing at check in at the airport, I can barely take my eyes off him as he lifts our suitcases to be weighed. He’s all casual in ripped jeans and a black t-shirt. The muscles in his sexy, sexy arms flex as easily picks up my heavy case.

  “Millie?” Aden says. I snap my head up to his eyes to see him, unsurprisingly, smirk at me. That wasn’t one of my smoothest moments.

  “Yes?” I reply. He chuckles and gestures with his head towards his dad, who is walking towards departures. Oh we’re leaving. “Let’s go then.” I hold my head up high as I walk past a still smirking Aden. Bastard.

  I’m bored. I’m beyond bored. Why do you have to get to the airport like six weeks before your flight is due to leave anyway? Aden and Richard are talking sports and Amanda is being just dull. So far all she’s is talk on the phone to her girlfriend about how desperately she misses her already. Have some damn self-respect; it’s only been an hour. If you can’t live for an hour without each other, you need to get a fucking hobby. Perhaps I’m being a little judgemental, but I’m frustrated.

  My eyes start to feel heavy, not because I’m tired but because there is literally nothing else to do. I didn’t even have the sense to bring a magazine to read, but that was because I thought we’d actually talk to each other, and not about football.

  “You alright, Amelie?” Amanda asks, finally hanging up the phone, but not first – no that was for her girlfriend to do.

  “I’m fine,” I reply, trying to force my eyes to stay open. Maybe if she’s don
e being mushy, she can talk to me and keep me from collapsing. “You looking forward to this?”

  “Not really. I’m going to miss Carla.” Oh God we’re just gonna talk about Carla now. “We’ve been together almost three years now.” Did I ask? I nod politely and smile. “I think she’s the one.” Lucky her.

  “That’s great.”

  “I’m thinking of asking her to marry me,” she says and lets a squeal out of her mouth that makes her sound like a thirteen year old that’s just seen One Direction on the TV. Well at least she’s happy. “So what about you, anyone special in your life?”

  “Nope.” The words practically cut their way out of my mouth.

  “Well don’t worry, you’ll find someone.” The problem is; I have found someone I really like. It’s just my shit luck that he’s my boss. “There is someone!” she exclaims so loudly I jump in my seat. Out of the corner of my eye I see Aden watch our exchange closely. “Who is he then?” Oh dear God shut up woman!

  I clench my jaw. “No one.”

  “Oh, of course there isn’t,” she says sarcastically. I’m seconds from ramming my fist down her throat to make her shut up. This is so awkward I squirm in my seat. Aden is still staring at us. I hate my life. The uncomfortable silence is broken by Amanda’s phone ringing. “Hi babe,” she says. After half an hour listening to one side of their sickeningly sweet conversation, I never thought I’d be thankful to hear more, but I am.

  I pick a dark smudge on the green carpet and stare at it like a stalker through a telescope. Aden’s gaze burns into the side of my head, but I refuse to meet his eyes. I know that if I do he will know it’s him. I’m sure he already knows, but I don’t want to see it.

  Sighing, I finally flick my eyes up to the clock, and then go back to the safe dirt patch. Time is passing too slowly. Why is it when you’re bored time decides to screw you over and slow down?

  What seemed like a lifetime later, our flight is called. I jump up and head towards the gate, leaving the other three behind. “Thank god,” I mumble as I hand over my ticket.

 

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