Grace (The ‘Hello’ series)

5. Chapter 5

five

T he chatter surrounding me and the delicious scents of fresh food don’t distract me enough as all I can think about is, what’s he doing to me, and how?

My shoulders drop as I wait in line to pay for lunch. I know he only wanted me to grab something special because he feels bad for me. But all I want to do is stuff my face with ice cream, and I don’t think that counts as lunch.

So instead, I order two light carpaccio salads with steak and sweet potato fries with truffle mayonnaise so it fits with the truffle dressing in the salad.

I fidget with the hem of my shirt as the line moves slowly. My mind races, trying to figure the exact moment when Bash started cheating on me. What was the moment where he believed I wasn’t good enough for him? Or maybe he just finally realized I wasn’t what he wanted.

When we started dating, I was… shocked someone like him wanted to go out with me. I was still a virgin and was never truly interested in anyone, but he was so sweet to me, made me feel worthy somehow. I wasn’t being overlooked for once. I gave him everything I could give, but he always wanted more.

I tried to give it to him, pleasing him how he told me to, but I just felt disgusted after it. I didn’t feel the pleasure and warmth people said I should feel after sex. I didn’t feel desired or beautiful. It felt… it felt like I was just a hole for him.

The realization that is carried by those words hits me hard. Tears brim my eyes, ones I blink away as I stand by the register.

“Order 24,” I say and hand over the card.

“It’s almost ready,” the guy says as he runs the card and hands me the key pad to type in the code. The fresh scents of fries and steak reach me, and my stomach rumbles. As I get the card back, the chef doesn’t make me wait long to claim my bags of food.

“Enjoy,” the cashier says and glances behind me before calling out, “Next!”

With two bags in hand, I leave and quicken my pace to go back to the office. I know I read it wrong, and I shouldn’t have grabbed the same lunch for both of us, as if I’m expecting Mr. Brooks to let me eat with him.

He’s probably too busy, and why would he even want me around during lunch? He was nice, and that’s the end of it. I’m sure he would like some alone time now.

Plus, how am I supposed to be near him when all that comes to mind is what I found on his computer? Petite redheads . Perhaps if I check again, I’ll find something else. Maybe then I can put it to rest. However, this does feel like a nice distraction from my ex and his new… well, not super new, since they have been together for two… okay, I’m spiraling again.

The elevator doors slide open and I step out, heading straight for Mr. Brooks’s office. The peace and quiet buzz through me as most employees are out for lunch, but it isn’t enough to calm the rising nerves as I notice Stacy’s bag on her desk.

I dare to glance around, wondering if Sebastian is here somewhere too. My hold on the two paper bags tightens as I stand in front of Mr. Brooks’s closed door. I listen to find out if he’s alone, but no sounds filter through the door and his blinds are closed. With a deep breath, I lift my hand with a bag and knock twice before my hands drop to the handle. Unsure whether I should step inside, I linger.

“You’re still here?” A voice that rakes through my spine and tightens around my heart makes me still. “I thought he would fire you on the spot.” Bash laughs as I turn slightly, just enough to see him.

“Still here,” I say, hating that it’s all I can come up with.

“My dad probably feels sorry for you,” Sebastian sneers as he stalks closer. Hurt and disgust shake me, and I can’t stop the tear from rolling down my cheek.

Sebastian leans closer. A smirk tilts on his lips as he flicks my tear from my skin. “If you'd put out more, we wouldn’t be here.”

Nothing comes out of my mouth as he continues to stare me down. I wish I had the courage to bite back, spit in his face and show him he’s the one that’s nothing.

The door handle slips through my fingers as Mr. Brooks’s office door slowly opens. A shadow casts over me, and Sebastian edges back, swallowing thickly as he peeks up. His cocky demeaner disappears like snow on a sunny day, and I can’t help the soft smile that tugs on my lips.

“Get inside, Grace,” Mr. Brooks says, and I do so without thought, walking under his arm as he holds onto the door tightly. I don’t reach his desk before the door shuts behind me.

I can’t make out an argument or anything else, no matter how much I strain my ears. No words filter through the door as I set up Mr. Brooks’s lunch on his desk. Without meaning to, I nudge the mouse and the computer screen lights up. My eyes flick, and my breath hitches as I see the same naughty tab in the corner, almost shielded by his work.

My throat dries and my heart stammers as I struggle to continue setting up his lunch.

Maybe Mr. Brooks is just testing to see if I’ll snoop. Or I was right and it was just a heat of the moment thing. He isn’t truly into petite redheads. He just forgot to close the tab. A nervous laugh bubbles up my throat as my gaze flickers to the door and the screen. Nibbling my bottom lip, I dare to hover the mouse over the tab before I click.

And then I freeze.

I was wrong. No, I wasn’t wrong. This means nothing.

I stare at the woman on the screen, a small redhead spread out on an office desk as her man is buried between her legs. His frame is much larger than hers as his hands easily wrap around her thighs. Heat swirls low in my stomach, my thighs clenching on their own as my breathing shallows.

The sound of the doorknob moving snaps me awake, and I reopen the other tab as if nothing happened.

“Got everything you wanted?” Mr. Brooks asks as I hurriedly set his lunch up, not even daring to look at him when I sense my cheeks burning.

“I did, sir,” I reply and clench my eyes shut.

“Grace,” he says, his voice dropping. “Please, do not use ‘sir’.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper and scoot to the side as he comes around his desk.

“Where are you going?” he asks.

I clear my throat, unable to control what simmers inside me as I dare to meet his intense stare. “I’ll eat at my—”

“Here. You’ll eat here.” He pauses, the corner of his lips curving slightly. “With me,” he adds as he takes his seat. His eyes snap briefly to his screen, his brows twitch, and I curse myself for snooping.

“I’m sorry, I nudged the mouse when I set everything up,” I say lamely.

He hums. “I have no secrets from you, Grace.”

I know I’m crazy for thinking his words mean anything beyond work, but my throat tightens all the same. Is this really happening? Am I attracted to my boss, my ex’s dad?

No, that can’t be. I’m just fragile after the breakup and eager for someone to want me. I’m clinging to the first person who shows me some kindness.