Bab 8: UNGRATEFUL BOSS
VIVIAN'S POV
As I began to stir, my eyes fluttered open, and I found myself nestled against his chest. It was an extraordinary moment spent with him. The sensation of his chest beneath my head was incredibly comforting.
Despite his reputation for arrogance, rudeness, and a penchant for playing the field, I couldn't shake the feeling that he harbored emotions for me. Deep down, I was convinced he desired me but was struggling to express it. A part of me insisted that he was genuinely kind and gentle beneath the façade, though his peers might not see it. "Does he even have peers?" I pondered, breaking into a smile.
His body shifted, prompting me to instinctively shut my eyes, pretending to be in slumber, fully aware that he would soon rouse me.
"Goodness, what's going on here?" He inquired, his voice dripping with irritation. Still feigning sleep, I could sense the anger in his tone.
"Hey, you!" He persistently tapped me, attempting to awaken me from my pretence. I wondered what he intended to do.
I gradually lifted my head, rubbing my eyes as they blinked open. Our gazes locked, and an intriguing thought crossed my mind. "Maybe he wants to bestow a kiss upon me with those adorable lips of his," I silently mused. However, what unfolded next took me entirely by surprise.
"You despicable wretch, how dare you?" He erupted, rising abruptly from the bed. I remained silent, my confusion growing deeper by the moment.
"You pushed me to this point," he declared, his words hanging in the air like a heavy curtain. His accusation pierced through my thoughts, momentarily making me forget that he held the position of authority as my boss.
Desperation welled up inside me as I tried to defend myself. "I never forced myself on you or resorted to rape," I protested, my voice shaking with anger and regret. "It was you who lured me with that drink, hoping to take advantage of me."
My emotions reached a boiling point, and I couldn't hold back any longer. "And let me be crystal clear," I continued, "I never wanted you, your arrogant demeanor, or your questionable intentions. How could I desire a man who played with the hearts of countless women? Yes, something happened between us, but we're not children here." With that final retort, I left the room, seeking solace in the bathroom.
Inside the bathroom, I tried to regain my composure. The sound of running water from the faucet provided a temporary escape from the tense atmosphere outside. I took a deep breath, attempting to wash away the bitterness and confusion that had enveloped me.
As I emerged from the bathroom, I had every intention of leaving this situation behind. I dressed myself, ready to put this uncomfortable encounter behind me. But just as I was about to make my exit, my phone began to ring, displaying James' name on the screen.
I hesitated, wondering why he was calling me at this moment. Uncertainty gnawed at me as I answered the call, my voice betraying my unease. "Hello?" I responded, not sure what to expect.
His voice on the other end of the line was filled with concern. "We're on our way back," I explained. "Something unexpected happened during the meeting, and we couldn't return as planned."
As I continued down the hotel hallway, James' words echoed in my mind. The intricacies of the situation swirled around me, and I couldn't help but wonder how my life had taken such an unexpected turn.
"Can we hang out for dinner when you are back?"
"No, not today," I sighed wearily. Exhaustion had taken its toll, and I craved at least two days of uninterrupted rest before even thinking about resuming any activity. The idea of showing up at the office on Monday seemed daunting, and I couldn't shake the feeling that my job might be in jeopardy.
James, concerned and caring, inquired, "What happened? Are you okay? Can I come to visit you?" His voice carried a hint of romance, which irked me because I didn't want to give him false hope when my heart felt nothing for him.
"You can't visit me, James," I replied curtly.
"Why can't I vi…." James began to protest, but I didn't want this conversation to continue, fearing I might say something hurtful. "Let me call you back, please," I abruptly ended the call.
Leaving my phone behind, I headed to the receptionist's desk, anxiously awaiting the appearance of my so-called boss, Vinicius. A nagging thought crept in, "What if he decides to leave you behind? Can you bounce back?" I considered the possibility, but my determination to find a new place to settle down and hopefully secure a better job under a more considerate boss kept me resolute.
Minutes felt like hours as I lingered near the reception area, but there was no sign of Vinicius. Frustration building, I retreated to the room, still grappling with the uncertainty that loomed over my professional life.
As I turned the doorknob and pushed the door open, I was greeted by an unexpected sight. He lounged casually on the bed, his clothing conspicuously absent, engrossed in his phone. A surge of irritation welled up inside me, but I managed to keep my composure, silently plotting my next move.
"I assumed you'd have joined our group by now. What's keeping you here?" His question hung in the air, seemingly without rhyme or reason. I chose not to dignify it with a response. Instead, I settled into a chair, deducing that he was likely making flight arrangements, a task we'd failed to complete the previous night.
Unease settled in as I sat in that cramped room, my stomach growling in protest. An idea formed, and I ventured to speak up. "Could I order some food?" I asked softly, hoping for a more accommodating response.
His reply, however, caught me off guard, leaving me dumbfounded. "I'm occupied, and I don't appreciate sharing quarters with you. You'll need to vacate the room and find your own space for the next three hours, until our flight departs," he declared, his tone dripping with arrogance, his eyes never once meeting mine.
I shot him an irritated glance as I rose from my seat and muttered under my breath, "Ungrateful boss."
Shame washed over me as I exited the room. I couldn't help but feel regretful for allowing myself to be entangled in an intimate encounter that I neither desired nor sought. It wasn't my fault; I had never entertained the thought of romance with anyone. But against my better judgment, it had happened, and strangely, it had been enjoyable.
Bitterness and anger gnawed at me as I walked away. He treated me as if I were at his beck and call, using me for his every whim and showing no regard for my feelings. The derogatory names he hurled at me stung, leaving me seething with resentment.
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