Playroom {M.C}

Chapter 5

"Ms. Frost, I was attempting to locate you," Someone called from a distance. I spun to face Daryl Clifford, feeling my heart beating faster than usual. I was scared about why he was trying to find me. Michael and our situation was the only logical reason in my head. Was it possible that he notified his father about yesterday?

"Good Morning, Mr. Clifford," I greeted. My voice is sounding soft. The middle-aged man's lips are curving up to a smile, his wrinkles apparent around his hazel-green eyes. They reminded me so much like Michael's. God, I need to stop. Mrs. Patricia and Kara were just ten feet away, and the young blonde had her eyes on us.

"Good morning to you too," he said. "I just wanted to ask how it is assisting my son."

Oh.

I nearly lost my voice. What precisely can I confess to Daryl Clifford?

"It's going nicely, sir."

"That's wonderful, Ms. Frost. Not many people can tolerate being around my son," Mr. Clifford responded. His eyes are showing hints that he was pleased with my answer. I gave him my best smile and attempted not to comment on that. His son wasn't exactly simple. The blue-haired man was intimating, compulsive, mysterious. Everything need to derived people away from him. Shaking my head, I acknowledged that I was thinking about Michael in front of his father. How freaking embarrassing. "Now I see you another time. I have to complete some paperwork.

"Goodbye, sir," I said. The room turns tensed, and Mr. Clifford was glancing past me. His mouth slightly opens, searching to say something before he closed them. Mr. Clifford shortly turns around and paces himself towards his office. Kara and Mrs. Patricia frantically searches around their desk to do something too. A hand caressed the back of my arm, stopping by my elbow. Goosebumps form shortly enough. I turned back around, and my eyes connected with Michael's.

He took a short intake of breath. I was stunned. His eyes wandered over my body from head to toe, stopping to look at my lips. The shade of his eyes turning green. I felt self-conscious under his stare, and I had wished that I hadn't put on my new dress and red lipstick that my mother had given me before moving to Seattle.

"Ms. Frost, I reckon we should head down to the meeting," Michael spoke. His hand is softly leaving my arm, and I felt that I could breathe properly again. He then pressed the button by the elevator door and removed his gaze from me too. The tension between us is so powerful. I wonder if anyone could feel it as well. The doors then open and we both stepped into the elevator again. My body is almost plummeting forward, and Michael wrapped his arm around my waist to hold me in place. "Do you habit of falling for men?"

The teasing in his voice evident. My face then turned crimson, and I pulled away from his touch. His lips are curving up to a small smile as he pressed the fourteen-floor button. The doors are slowly closing, and I bit my lip. This elevator was going to kill me one day.

"Breathe, Ms. Y/L/N"

"Mr. Clifford, about yesterday I-"

"Please don't mention it," Michael interrupted me. His voice is sounding strong. I nodded and stared at our reflection at the steel door. I can see him intently staring at me with his hazel-green eyes, and I moved in place. Why was it always like this?

"I just wanted to apologize for my comments," I said, stepping up encourage. "And you're completely right; I'm just your assistant."

"What you did back there yesterday was unfair, Ms. Frost," he breathed. Was he holding in his breath? I also didn't comprehend what he meant by unfair. His hands were shaking, and I cleared my throat.

"Why so?"

"Because if you were mine, I would make sure that you wouldn't be walking for a week after that stunt of yours yesterday." He then closes his eyes, dread etched on his lovely face, and he shudders slightly. I stood paralyzed by what he had just said. What precisely did he mean by that? He didn't- no. A warm thrill is rushing down my body, and my subconscious mortifies me.