What's home, if not the first place you run away from? What's love, if not that unexplainable, blazing feeling which comes after a period of hate?
Reputable for her catchy appearance, her over-niceness, her obsession with cartoon animations and her...
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Tate McRae - feel like shit.
~
WE GET TO THE FANCY RESTAURANT in about twenty minutes. Throughout the ride, I was sizzling and almost popping like a can of soda due to anger, tapping my feet continously against the floor of his fancy car - his minute glares at me in the overhead mirror notwithstanding - and trying to distract myself from that thing I said I'd never think about ever again.
The way Mr. Ash is greeted by the door-holder guy hints that he might actually own this restaurant. He winks at me as I stump - I don't do this. It just feels like I do - through the rotating doors with steam escaping my nostrils; I don't reciprocate his antics. My boss might get the wrong idea, again.
You wanna know why I'm in such a mood? Well, I'll tell you the reason I'm in a mood. I'm in a mood because I forgot my laptop when I was hurrying to catch up to Mr. Asshole. My laptop! The device onto which I made notes on what I would say to whoever the hell we are on our way to meet right now.
Now, I'm laptop-less and equally as hopeless.
If you fuck this up for me, Alaina, whatever happens to you will be your fault.
It's his fault I'm probably going to fuck this up.
Catching sight of his back view in front of me as I trail behind him like a female Renfield, I get pushed by annoyance to do lots of insane things to him.
Insane things like snatching that nice-looking lady's lasagna over there, grabbing hold of his very-fistable curls and smashing his head into it. I heard cheese is hard to wash out. Perfect. Maybe it'll humor him and put a smile on his face for once in his motherfucking life.
Jesus. Take a breather, Ina.
Oh God, I just hope I at least remember all the stuff I was revising before the print-out papers distracted me.
You know what? I'm just going to list all the achievements of Ash Enterprises I can remember off the top of my head that I saw online, and add the cliché line, 'you wouldn't want to miss that, would you sir?' It should work because the list of things that company has accomplished since the year 2000 is enough to get even Jeff Bezos interested.
Mr. Ash locates the client after a brief, wordless call with him. All he did was place the phone against his ear and end the call after few seconds.
I follow him into a pricy-looking private booth located at a quiet, reserved area, and decorated with parted reddish-brown curtains, candles, burgundy designer sofas and a long overhead hanging sconce.
The table is empty except for two flutes of champagne. My guess is our client already ordered.
I almost start to think that he's on a date with Mr. Reid's daughter and he brought me along with him today using the excuse of a business meeting to torture me with fake office work and his terrible flirting skills.
