Episode 4: Crossing The Line

Episode 4: Crossing The Line

Grabbing at her wits, Leslie shook her head and regarded him seriously. "I thought you said you didn't want my opinion on your works."

His lips made a thin line, seemingly unimpressed by her jab at him.

"If it brings you great satisfaction to not say anything about it then fine. Do as you please."

She grabbed at his hand quickly as he went to leave.

His eyes looked down at the act, stunned.

"Don't go."

Her words brought a certain implication which she could have never imagined. They had an unfathomable depth, yet they carried the warmth and life of the sun.

His blue eyes poured over it like water onto fire. "If you're not going to answer my prior question then don't expect anything of me."

She slowly released his wrist, lips parting in shock.

"Are you always this difficult?"

He brought his hand up to idly play with the rolex watch on his hand.

"According to reliable sources, yes. I am always this difficult." He agreed easily as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Then he took one step further towards her, closing the distance. She gazed up at him, heart thumping within her ears.

"Do you have a problem with that?"

New fantasies formed about him kissing her with his perfect mouth or bending her over his desk. It made her flushed that she really was thinking to that far extent when it came to him. She really was a woman in the dry desert of a lover's affection. And it had been years without rain.

"No," she coughed, her throat feeling like sandpaper. "I don't have a problem with that."

He hummed.

"I thought so."

Turning on the heels of his feet, he turned to leave the room.

She spoke quickly before he made it through the door. "It's liberating!"

He froze.

With her eyes staring at the expanse of his broad back, she proceeded softly. "It's a classical Christopher Wells book. All strings attached."

His form did a full one eighty degree spin, eyes holding hers deeply. "Expound on that."

Again with his commands, she noted.

"I mean," she cleared her throat. "It has everything you always aim to incorporate into your works. The professional relationship between Joseph and Lisa is outstanding—with them being partners for over ten years but only taking the initiative to cross that line only after so long. It's like a ticking time bomb finally exploding. In the best way possible of course."

"What do you think about the manner in which they've crossed that line? Does it bring you excitement to a certain degree? That is, if you were in the place of Lisa."

A blush painted her cheeks. "I—I don't think it's appropriate to say."

Isn't he asking about my sexual preferences to some extent?

With his keen eyes, he took notice of the rosy shade to her cheeks.

Folding his arms, he casually leaned against the doorframe. She gulped at how good he looked by doing something as mundane as that. With his slender yet fit body, he was a force to be reckoned with. She started to wonder if he worked out on the regular. He had to with how good he looked. One would think a writer who was cooped up in his office for almost fifteen hours in a day would have a not-so-impressive figure. Like those dirty old men did. But Christopher proved her wrong, being just as desirable as the male leads in his books. And that was just as appetizing for her eyes to follow.

"You're right. That is a rather invasive question. I apologize for making you uncomfortable."

"I'm not uncomfortable."

His eyes expanded a bit at how quickly she spoke up, almost in a desperate hurry to set things straight.

Leslie almost smacked herself silly for sounding so eager to put him at ease.

His lips twitched.

"So will you answer the question?"

Her thumbs dwindled as she thought about whether she wanted to or not.

Ah, screw it!

"I would have been a little taken aback but flattered by Joseph's approach on the issue at hand. Him taking that step towards her was thrilling to say the least, mainly because of what happened with her coworker, Dean."

"So you fancy a man of jealousy?"

She bit her lips, eyeing him with unfiltered lust. "Yes, I love a green-eyed monster."

He stared at her as if he was seeing everything and beyond.

Her body tingled at the attention from him before singing, "A blue-eyed one is just as good too."

Christopher stared down at her, his expression unreadable, although maybe he was mildly uncomfortable by her bluntness.

For a moment she felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her at his silence.

Goddamn it, this dreadful mouth of mine, the brunette scolded herself.

She tried to avert her gaze, even for a second, but the woman couldn't look away from him at all.

"It may be bold of me to assume this much...but are you crossing that line right now, Miss Quinn?"

Her eyes widened at his outspokenness.

Yes, she was hitting him but couldn't he spare her pride and not be inconsiderate enough to put her on the spot like this?

She was a woman after all.

What happened to a little subtlety? Especially if he was one command away from turning her down.

"I—"

For the first time in her life, she was rendered speechless by a man.

"Are you going to say something?" he queried. "Or are you going to continue sitting there, and act like you have no idea what I'm talking about?"

A list of responses were running across her mind but they were all tied together in one incoherent manner and it made her helpless at this point. Seeing her struggle to reply, Christopher pushed himself off the side of the door, his eyes narrowing in an unpleasant way.

"It takes more than a few suggestive words to get to me. I've written enough over the years to build an immunity towards them." He strictly warned but she took it as an invitation for other possibilities.

"How about action? Does physical touch excite you?" She asked, standing up on her feet and he eyed her seemingly unsettled.

"Aren't you asking the obvious?" He snapped. "Who doesn't get excited by someone touching them?"

"So can I touch you?"

His pupils expanded in momentary shock.

Then Christopher was suddenly looking down at his watch almost as if he was on a time limit, his face still impossibly perfect and flawless. His full lips pressed into an angry flat line after that. "No, I do not want you to touch me, Miss Quinn."

She felt like a thousand daggers were thrown into her chest at that.

Her feet which had been making advances towards him halted and she looked up at him taken aback. "You don't?"

His jaw clenched tightly.

"I don't."

She ran a hand through her hair, the shame of her actions catching up on her.

This was why people should not fall victim to impulse.

Just because there was a new shiny toy placed in your presence, it didn't mean you could have it.

And boy, did she learn that lesson the hard way.

Leslie nodded mutely.

He gave her one last look before promising, "I'll pretend as if this conversation never happened."

Please do, she begged as her eyes suddenly began to form water.

What the hell had she just done?

It was physical torture for her to go over to Christopher's apartment after that. She knew he said he would forgive and forget but that didn't stop the embarrassment from painting her cheeks red every time they made eye contact. It was like she was being teased by some invisible crowd for thinking she had a chance with a man like him.

Of course, he had high standards.

It made sense for someone of his caliber.

She remembered reading somewhere that he had graduated from Harvard with honors.

That in itself showed the type of people he had been exposed to in his daily life. Intelligent people. Many of which were inclusive of women. Women who probably had as much beauty as brains.

So why would he have fallen victim to her charms so easily?

Exactly, he wouldn't.

After thinking about it in more details, Leslie realized that lusting after Christopher Wells was like finding a needle in a haystack.

The chances of success being one in a billion.

So, she decided to act strictly professional in his company.

The woman didn't speak unless she was spoken to. She remained in the makeshift office he had given to her for most of the time there apart from several trips to the bathroom. And if the printer at his home broke down, she fixed it by herself, courtesy of the tips James had shared with her before at work when it failed her more than once.

Speaking of which, she missed the office.

It was only twice a week she went there to meet with her other clients and find out their progress. Also, she had to report to Mr. Collin about the advancements of Christopher's work as well. It had all been a little too much for her handle. Especially with the speed at which the man was writing. She thought it was normal for people like him to get writer's block, but it seemed like it was the other way around for him. He was writing too much. So much that the woman wanted to ask him if he thought she could revise all of this in time for the publication deadline he wanted to meet.

All in all, it was freaking ridiculous and just as she thought it had been the end of it for today, the villain popped up, carrying another compilation of words for her to sort through.

"Are you sure you're not a robot?" She spat.

What happened to giving him the cold shoulder? Her subconscious reminded sourly.

Regardless of that, the woman did not waver in the face of his acerbic presence and the words which came were befitting to it too.

"If you have a problem with the speed I operate in you can do just like the others and quit. I'm sure there are many people willing to take your place. After all, working for me is a great opportunity."

"Great opportunity?" She rolled her eyes.

He folded his arm over his chest defensively and it was right then she noticed his disheveled form. His tie had come undone and his dress shirt was wrinkled from a day's labor. It was the first time she had seen him like this and it was infuriating because even in his worst state so far, he still managed to look desirable.

"You were saying something." He prodded after having raised an inquisitive eyebrow at her.

Her lips pursed, the fire within her building.

"You're working like a machine. Don't you ever rest? I've been here since nine o'clock this morning and the door to your office has been closed since then. It's half past six now!"

"And your point is?"

Her eyes twitched. "My point is that you need to be considerate of not only me as your editor but also yourself. If you keep it up at this rate, you're going to be sick. And trust me buddy, I don't do well with fragile people. That's why I studied Journalism and not Medicine."

"I assure you that won't happen. I've been doing this for over five years. I know my body's limits. But if it brings you any peace of mind, I wouldn't ask you to nurse me back to health even on my deathbed. After all, you didn't study Medicine but Journalism."

At his sassy remark, her mouth dropped open.

Here she was trying to shed some light on his destructive way of operating only to be given a backhanded response.

If only she could slap that intolerable expression off his gorgeous face.

But violence was never the answer.

Not unless it brought some degree of pleasure of course.

At that she gave him a curt nod. "I get it. You don't like being told what to do. Even if it's for your own good. Well, I'm going to call it a day. After all, I know what's good for my health and what's not."

Leslie packed up her laptop bag and the rest of her belongings before heading out the door, intentionally bumping shoulders with him on the way.

He barely made a sound at the harsh contact.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

Unwillingly at that.