The Secretary and Her Boss

Chapter 25

The last time I had seen my ex-boyfriend, I was hiding behind a chair, desperate to avoid talking to him, broken and terrified of conflict. Now, as he stood waiting for me in front of my apartment door, wearing one of his expensive suits, glancing from his watch, up to me, I didn't feel that same fear.

I was irritated.

I didn't feel like the same person I was the last time I saw him because instead of ducking for cover, I audibly groaned, too tired to filter myself as I walked down the hallway. "Liam? You have terrible timing. If you are here about your lucky tie, Bex burned it. Take it up with her. I'm going to bed."

"It's 2 pm," Liam said by way of greeting, eyes on his watch, making it clear that waiting for me, even if I hadn't been expecting him, had eaten into his precious free time.

"That fact doesn't make me any less tired," I said, gesturing toward my front door, where he currently leaned, blocking my entrance.

"If you want to talk, make an appointment with my assistant," I said dryly. "Now move."

"You don't have an assistant. You are the assistant."

I smacked my forehead like the thought just occurred to me. "Oh, right! You are the one with assistants. Two of them. So have one of them make an appointment."

Liam seemed to register me for the first time, surprised by my tone. I had never talked to him like that before and his shock was obvious. He looked at me, really looked and I saw a change cross his face as he took all of me in. My heels, navy blue dress and styled curls, the confident head tilt.

I wasn't the same girl he dumped in a KFC drive thru months ago.

"Wow," he breathed. "You look..." he trailed off, eyes wide. He tried talking again. "You look... great. What happened?"

I raised my brow and he had the good sense to look embarrassed at his terrible word choice.

I really know how to pick winners don't I?

"No longer dating my butt face of an ex-boyfriend. Does wonders for my confidence."

He scoffed, brow raised, giving me a judgemental tone. "You are crabby today."

"Why are you here Liam?"

"This won't take long," he said, gesturing toward the door. He didn't ask to be let in, just waited for me to open the door.

"Say it out here," I replied, leaning my shoulder against the wall. "I'll wait."

"Fine," he said shifting his weight, adjusting his suit jacket sleeves, looking utterly uncomfortable. "I... I got a call."

I waited, silent, refusing to ask for more information.

He looked down, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm still your emergency contact... You got lost in another country? And broke your fingers? I just... came to see if you were okay. The message just got to me."

"Oh..." I said softly, some of my anger leaving.

He looked away. "I wasn't sure if you had anyone else that knew. Someone to check in on you."

Sighing, I opened the door and let him inside.

As I made him tea and myself a cup of hot chocolate, I watched Liam out of the corner of my eye. It was strange having him in my apartment. He didn't fit. My apartment was cozy and warm, filled with thrift store items and eclectic furniture. Where I loved pieces that been loved for years and told a story, he was all about the new and never touched. 

When I finished, I stood across from him at the kitchen counter and pushed a small teacup, covered in delicate flowers, to him. "I'm fine."

He glanced at my hands, one still covered in flakes of blood and the other with two splints keeping my broken fingers from moving, and gave me a disbelieving look. "You sure?"