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5. Black and Red

“You look better.”

My heart flutters and for some weird reason, my cheeks tickle with blush as I realize he gave me a compliment. Something I never expected from him. Something I don’t know how to take it.

A strange heat spreads to my neck and I feel my height getting shorter every second. As if I am sinking in his white sandstone floor with the increasing weight of red tint on my body. “Thank you.”

Dakota gives no attention to my gratitude and takes a long impatient stride towards the door. He has an extremely toned back, which appears like an inverted triangle from his broad shoulders down to his waist, that is perfectly covered by his tailored suit.

I follow him, hiding the blush he gave me a few seconds ago. As I walk towards the exit, my eyes catch a striking artwork hanging on his plain white wall beside the door.

It is a painting of a vicious beast. Stained in black and red colours, a huge animalistic figure, carved with honed horns coming out of his head while he menacingly looks straight, with his deathly hallow eyes.

It’s a brooding, yet a soul quenching view, but that alone didn’t capture my attention. It was the woman in front of the animal. A helpless, naked woman whose hair is clutched violently in bestial claws, that sends chills down my spine.

“This is a 1947 masterpiece by Eduard Paisea from Austria.” Dakota says after catching my gaze. “It’s called Minotaur and Erine.” And suddenly I am distracted by him and the painting, both.

“This was my first painting I ever bought.” He says with a jutting hint of pride. The painting looks a bit more explicit for an office. But he is the boss, so who is going to complain?

“Interesting.” I murmur under my breath.

But the way he stares at the piece of art, without blinking, unflinched, as if hiding something deep and scary within him. Something so powerful and dangerous that reeks of sin and shadows.

“Minotaur was always looked as a terrifying monster that lived on human flesh. But in real, he was just an unlucky kid, who was thrown into a labyrinth of darkness and curses.” He talks about the painting with a look of dark passion in his eyes as if he is telling his life story.

“And this painting depicts exactly what everyone saw him as. A beast. But now, he enjoys it.” He smirks at the end and I think this is the first time I notice him smiling.

A smile that finds its surface after ripping many flesh and bones. A smile that is proud and doused with arrogance.

“I didn’t know you were fond of mythologies.” Words pour out of me like a curious waterfall, making me drench in his mysterious aura.

Dakota’s green enigmatic eyes look down at me and they glow even brighter. As if telling me the secrets of his black soul, something he is keeping at hold. “Do you have time for another coffee?”

The way he holds my gaze steadily, I feel a need to get on my knees for him. “I don’t think so. I already took a lot of time for this interview.” I shake that unholy illusion in my head created by his dominant stare.

“Not even ten minutes?” His deep voice softens, and I find myself blushing again. I look down, sweat tickles between my breasts as they rise and fall. Another ten minutes with him? Under his penetrative gaze?

I lift my black lashes at him. His eyebrows itch up in question as he waits for my answer intently. I bite my lower lip, with a pressure exerted by my shyness and say, “I think a coffee would be fin-”

“I think not. I have a meeting.” He sternly cuts me off as he looks at his apple watch for updates, a bit annoyed.

I stand there, shocked by his sudden change in behaviour as he opens the door of his cabin and shows me the exit. Huh?

Did I get rejected for a coffee? That I didn’t even ask for.

I blink my eyes at the same speed of my heartbeat as I drag my ass out of his office. “Um-yea. Bye.” I tell him and he gives me a curt nod of respect.

Is he really kicking me out?

A woman who is a hotter female version of Ed Sheeran walks up to me with a smile that I could never pull up. “This way, please.” She ushers me to the lobby’s elevator where I had come from.

I look back only to find those pair of green eyes gazing back at me hotly. Dakota stands at his cabin’s door with a frown as if a predator watching his prey walking away from his den.

I steal my eyes away from him and get into the elevator, causing me to face him again. Suddenly, I see a smirk hinting on his full lips before the doors of the elevator closes on my face.

My heart thumps to my throat, wild and uncontrollably as I wonder why he was staring so hard at me? I instantly glance at myself in the elevator’s mirror. Red silk shirt nicely tucks under my skirt which hugs around my hips tightly till the knees that screams of professionalism and dull fashion.

You look better.. His deep voice echoes in the empty compartments of my head and I blush unwantedly. May be better than my ripped jeans and over-sized tee.

The doors open to the ground floor and I take a deep breath of release, knowing I won’t be returning here again. But something pulls in my stomach which holds me from smiling as I walk out.

This is goodbye then.

“What happened? Did any issue occur?” The man with round glasses rushes towards me, followed by the tall guy with his camera longer than his sleeve. I still don’t know their names.

“Nothing. Everything went fine.” I tell him as I look down and see the black steel pen, which I mistakenly brought with me.

“Really? Then why it took so much time?” The guy questions restlessly.

“Um.. What?” I ask him after wearing a confused face.

“The interview was scheduled for twenty minutes and you were up there for more than forty-five minutes.” He tells me and my eyes, mouth, and nostrils widen with shock.

“WHAT!!”

. . .

The editor stares at me with a sly grin on her cheshire face as I quietly sit in the cabin, on the opposite side of her table.

“How was the interview?” She asks me with a curiosity of a cat. The rude-ass bitch from before is nowhere to be seen.

“Good.” I tell her. And I almost got my ass bitten by your questions, which I don’t tell her.

With a slow nod, she lowers her glasses and sneers at me flirtatiously, “I heard he kept you in his cabin for an hour.” And winks in the end.

“Oh, no! It’s not what you think.” I tell her, shaking my head. “The recorder’s battery died, and I had to write down answers, so it took a bit more time.” How do I explain to her that he wanted to chew my bones the moment I entered his territory!

“That sounds like a problem from your side. Why would he give his extra time to you?” Her thin eyebrow flies up to the corner of her head as she looks at me with a scrutiny of a fox.

“Unless..” I gulp as she leans down to her table, staring eye-to-eye with me. “The hot millionaire saw something interesting in the pretty little interviewer.” She says as if reading a sizzling headline from the front page of a magazine. Oh fuck, no!

“I-I don’t think so. He was just being polite, as he was my senior in college.” I tell her. Even while he refused me for coffee and kicked me out of his office, he did it all with respect.

“What? You were in college with Mr. Black?” She jumps on her seat as if someone poked in her butt and prys on me with her thirsty questions. “Tell me everything about your hot senior. Was he famous among girls as a dirty jock, or was he a sexy nerd who knew everything? How popular was he?”

Oh fuck me with a tiny dildo! Now I get it how Dakota must have felt when I asked him such half-baked questions.

“Um no. Sadly, I got admission when he passed out.” I make a sad smile and watch her smirk sink down in disappointment. “Oh! So you came in when he got out?”

Gosh! That sounds so wrong.

“Something like that.” I tell her and she instantly focuses on her computer, dropping her ‘wanna gossip’ act. “I read a few chapters of your book online. You have good views and comments but..”

Her eyes again find me as she mocks, “Honey, the grammar is trashy than my puppy Bary’s language.” I join my brows at her comment and wonder, how much grammar is needed in bow-bow anyway?

“We need to get your book edited, proofread before it goes to printing. Which will take couple of months and more than couple of hundreds of dollars.” A southern British accent adds to her tone as she explains me the process.

“What? How much?” I gasp at her and suddenly the seat gets uncomfortable under my squishy ass. She lowers her glasses and says, “Two and a half grand.”

Two-fucking-and-half-fucking-thousands!

My mouth opens wide and I feel my heart crawling out of me after hearing how much money my broke-ass need to get my book published. And here I was dreaming of being JK Rowling!

“But I am willing to bear the expenses if you sign an exclusive contract with our publication.” She says after almost breaking my wand.

“Exclusive contract?” I ask her as if I am hearing about this bird for the first time.

“You can keep your book online on which ever site it is, but paper-book publishing rights will be owned by our company exclusively. In short, only we have the rights to publish your book in the market, no one else.”

Honestly, no other publication gave my book any attention. They said it’s childish and my characters badly need development. “Okay.” I agree to her terms and she instantly hands me the contract papers.

I read the contract thoroughly and sign after providing my personal information. She checks the detail and hands me a copy of the signed papers. The deed is done!

“Where were you hiding all this time?” She excitedly taps her hand on my arm as if she signed the deal of her life. And I simply smile at her. I was not hiding, I was grounded.

“By the way, after your interview I got a mail from Mr. Black.” The woman sneers in a teasing way as she stares at me with interest.

My ears bolt upright like a cat as I hear his name. “What mail?” My heartbeats shoot up as I find myself on the verge of a panic attack.

“Just office formality, you know.. Acknowledgement of interview.. Professional manners.” She waves her hand casually. “But he wrote something extra..” And halts like a dramatic pause in K-drama.

This time my tail uprights too in shock and starts to wave impatiently. “What did he say?” What did he say? My anxieties ask as well.

With a wicked smirk, she leans down on the table and tells me, “Mr. Black wrote at the end of the mail.. That he is eager to read your book.”

What the fuck!

“Crazy, isn’t it? Now we have to publish your book faster than ever.” She hops on her seat excitedly whereas I forget to breathe.

This is so B-A-D.

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