Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"Ouch!" Kevin groans out loud like a dog whining, stumbling to the ground as he's trying to put socks on his feet. He falls hard on his butt, rolling around, biting his lower lip and I manage to laugh at him despite us being late.

Yes, the alarm I set rang off several times, but that doesn't mean I was woken up by it. No, it even snoozed off several times until I managed to open my eyes and realized we're an hour late. I was somehow facing Kevin's feet, his face facing mine. His hands were wrapped around my legs. It's still a mystery to me how he ended up on that position. I remember well last night that he was snoring lightly, his head resting on my pillow. The comforter was all over us and I had to push Kevin off of me so I could stand up and prepare. When he fell on the cold ground floor, he hissed and stood up, muttering good morning under his breath. When he looked at the digital clock pinned on the wall, he said shit to himself and ushered me to go take a back quickly.

Kevin's wearing my polka dots white polo shirt and fitted jeans. It's also a good thing we're have the same shoe size or else he'd be walking around in the office using his Nike sandals, which is by the way, a clear violation of the Dress Code policy of the company. Somehow he was able to make a toast for the both of us, enough to fill us up and give us energy to survive the first hours of the work.

Truth be told, I'm freaking out. Because when I checked my phone, I had like another 5 missed calls from Wyatt and 4 messages asking where I was. I sent him a quick text, informing him that something urgent came up and how sorry I was to not be able to inform him in due time. I never received a response back. This is actually the first time I got a tardy, and now, I'm afraid Wyatt may use this against me.

"Is the Uber already here?" Kevin asks me as he checks himself out in the mirror, having the time to give himself a once over and I roll my eyes at him. I mutter a yes, and he takes my hand and leads me out of my unit. I take my hand from him. "Damn it. We're going to get fired for this."

Frowning, I cross my arms at him as we take the elevator. "For you, I don't think so." I claim, shaking my head as if finding the thought of him getting fired ridiculous just because of his first tardy. There's actually this thing called attendance policy, and you may have to have a lot of incidents for you to get fired. But my case is different; I work under Wyatt himself, and if he doesn't really like the way I perform or do things, that means me getting fired any time he wants to do so. "You'd have to have a lot of tardy incidents before you get fired for that. Before that even happens, your supervisor will interfere to know your commitments to your job and he will try to remedy it in case he sees conflicts."

"Oh right," he says dumbly as the elevator dings. Kevin knows I'm in a foul mood, but it's not actually his fault. It's my fault. I was quite in peace sleeping, and it didn't occur to me that I had a job to do today. Once we get outside of the building, the Uber is already there, parked in front of we run towards it. "I wish he'd never get upset."

It takes almost thirty minutes to arrive to our work due to the fact that we got stuck in traffic. I paid the Uber through credit card, and after we've arrived, we run inside the building like there's a fire going on and we're saving our lives. Even the security has to stop us as they thought we're some sort of criminals. I look at them apologetically and the guards immediately recognize me. He lets out a small smile before they release us and we get into the elevator again. Kevin presses his floor number and I press mine.

When I arrive there, I immediately knock at Wyatt's door and he opens the door. Once he sees it's me, his eyes harden and he motions for me to get inside his office. Wyatt is angry; his face is almost red, and the way he grits his teeth makes me realize that I'm in a deep shit today. I brace myself for the shouting, but Wyatt just takes a seat on his leather chair and turns around to face me, his face is still wearing that angry expression that makes me tremble a bit.

"Are you this incompetent when it comes to your work?" he asks me through gritted teeth and I keep my mouth shut, realizing that if I ever open this mouth then Wyatt will burst. He looks like he's ready to pop a vein so he could throw shits at me. "I called you a lot of times since Sunday, and you never answered. I sent messages, you never even texted back. Why is that? Don't you think, as my secretary, that I deserve to know what's going on with you? I had to answer every call that came in, and that shit is a bother to me. I'm packed with meetings and presentations today, and I had to reschedule them by myself because my secretary was out there doing something!"

I bite my lower lip and I swear I see his eyes flick to it, but I could just be hallucinating. I yell at myself internally, reminding myself that he's still my boss and there's no way he'd check me out. This is one of the times I question myself why I had to be gay. Really, because clearly, there's something wrong.

"I'm sorry," I tell him and by the tone of my voice, I hope he'd hear how sorry I am for being late and for making him do secretary stuff even though he's the boss. "To be honest, there's no urgent thing I had to do. I overslept, and it's my fault. I'll make sure this won't happen again. I promise that."

"How can you be so sure that this will not happen again?" he asks me, eyes still burning. I get uncomfortable at his scrutinizing gaze at me and I have to tell myself to calm down just to get through with this. "I still want explanation why you ignored my calls and messages."

"My phone was set on silent," I admit to him, feeling my cheeks get hot. "Usually on weekends, I set my phone on mute so I wouldn't be bugged as I need to clean my home. I didn't read your messages because I didn't want to be distracted. But I'll make it won't happen again, too!" I quickly add.

"If this happens again, tell me, what will I do?" he crosses his arms and my eyes immediately trace his biceps. I bite my lower lip. "Because to be honest, I feel like this will happen again in the near future."

"It's really up to you," I say shyly, prying my eyes away from his flexed biceps across his arms, praying to God that he didn't notice I was staring at his arms. "This is the first time I was late. But I'll make sure to let you know always what's going on with me as long as it concerns you or your schedules."

Wyatt is not angry anymore; his angry expression has been replaced with a blank expression, his lips set in a thin line. He nods his head in understanding, and he motions for me to go back to my desk just outside his office. I nod thankfully at him and get out of his office. I take a seat on my chair and login my office credentials to get access to the desktop. There's a piece of paper beside me; written on it are the changes of his schedule today – both meetings and presentations. There's a couple of numbers there, too. It could be a contact number or something, so I pulled out my calendar and Notepad to type it in just in case Wyatt forgets it. I open all the applications I need to use today, and once I'm logged into Skype, Kevin's face pops up and he messages me.

Thank you for the sleepover. It feels nice sleeping in your unit. Very comfortable. It reads, and I smile at his message. I roll my eyes playfully and send a reply back, thanking him for helping me up with house chores yesterday and how it made things easier for me.

I see him typing but before I even get to read his message, I stand up and head to the restroom. When I get back, after washing my hands for like almost five minutes, Wyatt is on my desk, his face near my computer screen and I half jog towards there. As I reach my desk, I see him looking at the conversation of me and Kevin and he looks up at me, a scowl evident on his face.

"So he spent the night with you?" I'm annoyed at the fact he has the guts to read someone else's conversation, but as my boss, I give him a small smile, which is a complete fake, and nod at him. "And... is he the reason why you're late? Is the reason why you didn't answer my texts and calls?"

Wyatt narrows his eyes at me suspiciously while I shake my head.

The way he said is not really pleasant to my ears. But I know what he's telling me; it's just that the wording is the problem. Wyatt looks at the conversation again and I slightly push him, him stepping back as he looks at me suspiciously. Regardless of whether he's my boss or not, it's rude to look at someone's conversation, especially without permission.

Putting my hands on his chest, I gently push him, still giving him a smile. "He's not. You have some work stuff to do, sir. It may be best if you start working on it."

This makes Wyatt cross his arms again, his eyes now squinting. Even though we haven't seen each other for years, he hasn't changed. I can practically see the gears working inside his head as he analyzes things – assuming things rather, and once he sets his mind to something, he'd actually prove it. That's just who Wyatt is. Noticing my hands still on his clothed chest, as he gives it a lingering stare, I pull it back and turn on my desktop, bending down a bit and minimizing the chat box.

"You're off to?" I say, hoping that he'd get the hint that I don't want him here and I don't want him snooping at my desktop when it's not necessary and without my permission. "You know what? You seem hungry. Do you eat at McDonald's? Probably not. They have the best fries! You don't have a meeting until 11 in the morning since most of your morning meetings are cancelled. Thanks to me!" I give a half-hearted laugh, wishing this is not as awkward as it seems. Wyatt looks at me as if I have lost my mind, and I'm pretty sure I did. There's another pop sound coming from my desktop, and Wyatt seems eager to see more of the conversation as he tries to get past me and open the conversation but I put my hands on his chest again, pushing him lightly. "Let's go, let's go, my good-looking boss."

"I'm your good-looking boss?" He muses, amusement clearly evident in his voice as he looks at me with twinkling eyes. It's my turn to narrow my eyes at him. I don't know what game he's playing, but it doesn't sound so fun. Not at all. "I knew it, Pierson. You've got the hots for me."

"Not really, I'd rather be with Kevin, thank you very much." I resist the urge to roll my eyes at him.

"Okay, so you're admitting you slept with Kevin?" he presses, grinning as he sees my annoyed expression. His eyes are now twinkling mischievously as if he has something planned up his sleeve. I cross my arms across my chest and arch a brow at him, daring him to continue. "Was he any good?"

"Yes, he was good. I bet even better than you can do," I play along.

I notice his playful expression turns into a sour one, then he scowls at me as if the sight of me annoys him. Well, he can rot in hell for that. Who does he think he is? His jaw clenches, one of the signs that he's pissed. His eyes, which held amusement, now look at me icily. I bite my lower lip, thinking that I must have ticked him off and, I know it's ridiculous, I can't help but think that he's ready to fire me.

So apparently telling a sex joke involving him is not a good idea. He may be very well straight, and he's still the close-minded Wyatt I have known back in high school. His current position as the CEO doesn't make a difference. Though he treats everyone with respect, it doesn't mean that his beliefs have changed.

"I'm hungry..." I let out an awkward laugh, moving a bit to his side and his eyes switch from me to my computer screen, reading the conversation.

His eyes flick back to me and I fear myself cower behind his gaze. "Tell him you have plans this weekend. We have a client dinner with Mr. Chong." He turns on his heel and I look at my screen, furrowing my brows. Can I spend my weekend with you again? I'm still waiting for our hangout to happen. "Are you going to make me wait? I thought we were going to McDonald's to get the best fries?"

"Oh yeah," I say dumbly. "But the dinner is urgent with Mr. Chong? And does it have to be on a weekend?"

"Yes," he turns around and his teeth are gritted. "It has to be on a weekend, so get your ass up here fast before I ask the IT to remove your Skype credential." He starts to walk again and he stops abruptly. "Are you really going to make me wait?"

"Um, yes, I mean, no Wyatt, uh, sir." I awkwardly shuffle around, locking my computer before leaving a note that I'm on break and will return soon. I run after Wyatt and he starts walking towards the direction of the elevator. I trail behind him, silently scolding myself for being such an idiot and how I literally made a fool out of myself in front of my boss.

There's a McDonald's near the office building, and we just have to walk for a couple of minutes before we get there. The place isn't really that packed, but the place is crowded enough to have a chattering noise. Wyatt walks towards the cashier and patiently steps in line. He looks at the menu above and has a conflicted look on his face. I don't have to look at the menu as I know what I will be ordering – it's the same meal bundle that I always order in the morning: two pieces of pancake with an upgraded drink to iced vanilla coffee and an upgraded fries from medium to large. However, when it's Wyatt's turn to order already, he still has this conflicted look on his face. I turn around, hoping there isn't someone behind us, but oh boy I'm wrong. There are five persons waiting behind us and I look at Wyatt, hoping he'd be able to make up his mind about what he wants to eat. Finally, he settles with a rice bundle meal; it consists of one large chicken patty with yellow sauce I'm not sure what it is, a regular fries, and an upgraded drink to Pineapple; he even orders one large burger meal. After he orders, I tell the teen girl, who I assume to be 16 or 17 of age, my order and she smiles half-heartedly at me. As I'm about to pay, Wyatt beats me to it, handing fifty bucks and telling the girl to keep the change, to which the teenager kindly declines but Wyatt insists.

We wait for our orders to arrive on the counter before we find our seats. I thought we'd just take the foods out and eat at the office, but it seems like Wyatt has other plans. He chooses a table near the corner where there are a few people. From here, I can hear faint chattering of the other New Yorkers. Wyatt takes a seat across from mine, unwrapping the paper off the burger and he starts munching on it.

Sighing happily as I look in contentment at my pancakes, my mouth already watering at the sight, Wyatt takes a couple of my fries and shoves it into his mouth. I narrow my eyes at him, arching a brow before he does it again.

"Hey!" I yell in protest and he has a smug grin tugged on his lips. "Godzilla."

That dinosaur comments make him laugh and I roll my eyes at him. I start stabbing the pancake, cutting it into several pieces before shoving one into my mouth. The toast Kevin made early in the morning is not enough to fill me up; no, it only lasted for a couple of minutes in my stomach before I started feeling hungry again. Now I can finally fill up my stomach with these delicious pancakes and I bet it would only last for a couple of hours, but hey, I'm always ready for lunch time.

I'm not even finished yet with my pancakes, and Wyatt is already eating his rice, when he dips his hand and steals half of my fries and I glare daggers at him, putting the fries closer to me and far away from him, but still within his reach. He throws a smirk at me – a smirk that I would gladly punch off his face if he doesn't stop stealing my fries. He has his own fries, and it's left untouched yet, so I'm not sure why he keeps stealing my fries when has his own.

Wyatt steals another handful of fries after I shove a pancake inside my mouth.

"You moshtmer," I whine while my mouth is full. Wyatt lets out a laugh, clearly understand the word I said. Yeah, he's a fucking monster for stealing my fries. After chewing several times and downing the pancake, I point a finger at him. "Next time I won't be bringing you with me when I decide to eat here again, you Godzilla."

"It's so fun teasing you," Wyatt smirks, shoving a spoonful of rice in his mouth.

He grabs another fries from mine and when I look at the large fries I ordered, I see that there's a couple of pieces left before I turn to glare at him.

"You're declaring a war on me," I mutter and cross my arms, not finding him funny at all. He laughs out loud, earning a few heads turning our way. I glare at them and they mind their own business while Wyatt shakes his head, unable to contain his happiness. "Will you stop stealing my fries? It's just a few left and I haven't even eaten some of it yet." I let out a small whine, which makes him laugh even more.

"You're really something else, Pierson." He comments as he lets out a chuckle, calming himself down as he shoves another spoonful of rice into his mouth.

After a few minutes of eating, as we get done eating with me being only able to eat a couple of fries left thanks to Wyatt, we decide to head back to the office. He takes out the fries that went along with his meal and I glare at him while he's not looking at me. How dare he eats my fries? That's actually pretty rude. This guy needs to be taught a lesson and I'm willing to do so.

Wyatt notices that I'm not saying anything before a smile tugs on his lips. Before we enter office building, and I still haven't said anything to him, he halts to a stop and turns to look at me, an amused expression plastered on his face. I arch a brow at him, bracing myself for another insult or mockery coming from him.

"You're pretty quiet," he grins and I refuse to roll my eyes while my hand is itching to slap his face.

"I'm still salty about you stealing my fries. Don't talk to me." Wyatt cackles as he holds his stomach, shaking his head as doubles in laughter. After he has recollected himself, he hands out the regular fries to me that is still untouched and I look at him suspiciously.

"C'mon, just take it." He offers the fries to me and I happily take it from his hand but still keeping an eye out on him just in case he's pulling a prank on me. He rolls his eyes at me and turns around, but as he does so, I see a small smile playing on his lips. A smile that he thought I wouldn't catch, but I did. And my heart swells at the sight. He's actually even cuter when he smiles. Fuck you, stupid head. "Are you going to make me wait again?"

"It's supposed to be a large fries and not a regular one!" I call out, running after him as he begins walking, his long legs striding. "Also, I'm still salty about you stealing my fries."

"Shut up or I'll take my fries back," he smirks.

"You wouldn't dare," I challenge him and he glowers at me, his smirk fading.

"Hand it to me," he offers his hand and I refuse to give the fries. He gives an annoyed expression, to which I roll my eyes. He looks like a bipolar asshole to me. One minute he's happy, and the next minute, he's pissed. Really this guy has a problem with his attitude and it needs some fixing. "Hand it back to me, Pierson."

"Make me!" I run towards the elevator.

For a moment he looks shocked that I ran away from me. When he realizes this, it's too late; I'm already inside the elevator and I've already pressed my floor and the close button. Wyatt calls out, running after me, and almost all of the employees look at him with a confused – some are wearing amused – expression etched on their faces. As the door closes, Wyatt's frantic steps resonate and the best thing? I haven't done anything to stop the elevator's door from closing.

As it fully closes, I realize that I just literally left my boss running after me and it's quite the best feeling ever. I feel like a rebel in his own presence, in his own company, but that feeling quickly fades as I realize what I've done.

There's no doubt that, when Wyatt faces me, I'd face his wrath. I just told myself that he's bipolar and that his attitude needs fixing. I'm dead, that's for sure. As I trudge back slowly to my station, my mind imagines the endless punishment my boss would give me and that actually scares me. Without realizing it, the fries are already gone, eaten already and I look at the empty paper holder and throw it into the bin.

Once Wyatt arrives on the floor, his eyes immediately connect with mine and I give him an awkward stare, waving at him. He glares at me, his chest heaving up and down, and this is the moment I realize I fucked up.

"I'm sorry, but the fries are gone already; it's in my stomach now." I state awkwardly, rubbing the back of my neck.

"Pierson Matthews," he's still glaring daggers at me and I gulp audibly, hoping to find something to do. "Get in my office and we'll talk."

******

Author's Note: So here's another update for you all. I can't wait to share it with you guys.  I'm making this story a bit slow as I want it to be better than what I imagined it to be. So please bear with me. I love you all.

Instagram: JMSenar

Twitter: JMSenar