Sereia's POV
We sat silently next to each other as the presenter concluded his speech.
I was taking notes while Elliot scrolled on his phone, drowning out the information he probably already knew.
He hadn't said a word to me since what happened earlier.
I figured he would be hard to crack, but I didn't know it would be this hard.
Now I was even doubting if I was good enough to seduce him.
I don't have much experience with men. How could I?
I've been dedicating my life to Violent's revenge since I was 18.
Maybe I'm not good enough.
I shook the negative thoughts out of my mind.
I am good enough.
I will not make him convince me otherwise.
The audience started clapping when the presenter closed off.
Everyone began to get up and I did too, but he held me back.
"Sit," he said and I remained standing. "Sit down, Sereia."
His voice held such authority that, before I could process his words, I was already seated again.
It was as if my body had acted on its own.
"I'm going to pretend that your little act earlier didn't happen," he said with a serious look. "If you try that again, I will fire you. Understood?"
Dang it.
I nodded. "I'm sorry."
"I get that you're lonely and a bit horn-"
"I get the point," I stopped him. "I won't do it again, sir."
"I wasn't finished," he said. "I do get your situation and I'm willing to talk with you. Is that good enough for you?"
I nodded and he smiled.
"Good," he said as he stood up. "Let's go get some lunch. I'm starving."
I stood up too as I rubbed my stomach. "Me too."
"What do you want today?"
"Mmm," I thought for a moment. "I've always wanted to try New York styled pizza."
He turned to me looking a bit surprised. "Wait, is this your first time in New York?"
I hesistated before nodding.
Should I have lied?
Is it uncommon for an upperclass person not to come to New York?
My heart beated faster as I waited for his response.
Did I mess things up?
I need to stop overthinking.
He smiled. "I know exactly where to take you."
I felt relieved that he didn't judge me.
"Come on," he nodded to the door. "The driver is probably outside."
I nodded before following him to the car.
When we were all settled and on our way, I turned to him.
"Do you come here often?" I asked. "New York."
"I do, it's my favorite city," he said. "Besides Chicago of course."
"Why?"
"Why not?" he asked. "It has endless energy and diversity. I've always wanted to live here when I was a kid."
"What about you?" he asked. "Was Chicago always your first pick?"
"No," I said. "I've always liked Maine. It's quiet and the coastlines are beautiful."
I still think that.
Once I've finally gotten revenge, I plan on settling there and having a peaceful life.
He nodded as he struggled to hold in a smile. "I get it. The city life isn't for everyone."
I didn't feel offended by his comment. In fact, I smiled.
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked. "I can manage the city life."
"Can you really?" he teased, finally submitting to his smile.
"I can," I admitted. "It's just that the city reminds me too much of some people. I want to get away from all of it."
"Even if you move away, it won't change anything," he said. "You'll still carry those memories with you."
I stayed quiet, preparing myself to stop listening to him.
"It's the new memories you make with the new people you surround yourself with that will help you change."
"Well, I don't have anyone to make new memories with so I'll be going to Maine."
"Are you planning on leaving me, new girl?" he asked and I realized I slipped up.
"I can't stay with you forever," I told him in an attempt to cover up my mistake. "You'll find a new director who's more 'professional'."
"No I won't," he said as he looked me in the eyes. "I want you to stay. I like how ambitious you are. I'm starting to see why everyone was fighting to get you. I'm not letting you go that easy."
My heart began to race again.
There he goes again throwing around meaningful words loosely.
"Let us out here," he told the driver as he rushed out of the car and came to open my door. "Traffic is too tight, we can foot it."
"Okay," I said as I grabbed my bag and hopped out.
"It's just up the road there," he said as he pointed to a small restaurant tucked between two tall buildings. "See it?"
I nodded as we hastened our steps.
When we entered the building, we were immediately met by an old man.
"Mr. Elliot!" he exclaimed as he hugged my boss.
"Nice to see you again, Barry," he answered as they released from their hug. "This is Sereia."
"Nice to meet you," I said as I shook his hand.
"The pleasure is all mine," he smiled. "Mr. Elliot has never brought anyone here before. You must be his wife."
I opened my mouth to deny the accusation, but Elliot beat me to it.
"She's just my employee," he said. "She's never had a New York pizza, so I wanted to make sure she got the real deal."
"I'll prepare it myself," he said before turning to the older woman sitting behind the counter. "Jess, set their table."
She got up before motioning for us to follow her.
"So how long are you two staying?" she asked as she began setting our table.
I looked at Elliot and he gave me a chance to answer.
"5 days," I said and she smiled.
"Wow, you two need to make use of that time," she said. "Have you two gone anywhere else as yet?"
I shook my head and she glared at Elliot.
"Mr. Elliot, you need to take the poor girl out," she said. "You know New York more than most locals."
"We're here on business," he said while we stood and watched her.
She poured water into our glasses. "So what? You can't work for the whole time. At least take her to Times Square or something."
I expected him to preach something about him being my boss or how unprofessional that is, but he surprisingly didn't.
"That can be arranged."
That statement made me feel oddly happy.
"That's the spirit," she smiled brightly as she moved away from the table. "If you two need anything else just call me, okay?"
"Thank you," I told her before we sat down.
I looked around the small, cosy restaurant.
The restaurant was almost empty, besides a couple quietly chatting by the window and a solitary man hunched over his laptop in the dimly lit corner.
"You seem like a regular here," I said, appreciating the fact that they spoke casually enough to each other.
"Uh-huh," he proudly said. "I've known Barry and Jess since I was a kid. They are good people."
"I'm surprised you let them speak so casually to you," I smiled. "Considering the fact that you're obsessed with professionalism."
"Come on," he argued. "That's not true."
"It is."
"It's not," he argued. "I can be laid back."
"Prove it."
"Isn't this laid back enough for you?" he asked. "I'm taking you out to try the best pizza ever created and having a conversation with you that doesn't involve work."
I folded my arms. "Anyone can do that."
He leaned forward. "So what can I do to prove it, Ms. Sinclair?"
"You can stop calling me that for starters," I told him. "My name is Sereia."
"I'm aware."
"Well, say it," I told him and he silently watched me.
I searched his eyes for a hint of insight, a flicker of thought, but they remained unreadable.
He finally nodded. "Okay, Sereia. What else?"
I smiled when I realized that I was slowly breaking down his walls.
...
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