Page 8 of Fated to Them

“You’re not very good at listening to instructions, are you?”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes at him or retort sarcastically.

“What do you want?” I ask, but even my tone comes across rudely.

My mother always says it is not what you say but how you say it. I really need to work on that.

“Lose the attitude. I won’t tolerate it,” he says, leaning on his desk, his hands clasped together as he watches me under hooded eyes.

The door suddenly opens behind me, and Cyrus takes a seat on the couch next to the window overlooking the city. He braces his chin on his hand, watching our little altercation enthusiastically.

“We are leaving for Soya City. We will pick you up at 6AM tomorrow. The plane leaves early in the morning.”

Pick me up? I can’t leave. What about Maya and my mother?

“You want me to come with you?” I ask, looking between them.

“Are you not our personal assistant? Because last I checked, it was part of your job description?” Eli asks, leaning back on his chair and placing his hands behind his head.

I really should have read those documents more thoroughly.

“I can’t. I have to drop my niece off and pick her up. My mother is working tomorrow,” I tell them.

“Well, then tell your sister to pick up her own damn kid. It is hers, isn’t it?”

“Yes, SHE is, but she isn’t available either,” I tell him with a heavy emphasis on “she,” not liking the way he called my niece an “it.”

“My oh my, doesn’t she have an attitude today, Eli?” Cyrus mocks behind me.

I turn and glare at him before noticing he has moved and is now standing directly behind me. I gulp, a shiver running down my spine. He leans in closer, and my heart rate picks up.

“Do I make you nervous?” he asks, his breath fanning my lips.

Gosh, he smells good. I take a step back, looking him over, not bothering to answer his question, instead asking my own.

“No contact lenses today?” I ask, and he smirks, his eyes going to Eli.

“She is observant, though,” Cyrus says, making me furrow my brows. He doesn’t move away; instead, he steps closer, and goosebumps rise on my arms when I feel his breath on my neck.

“What time do you drop your niece off?” Eli asks, making me look at him.

“Six-thirty.”

“You drop her at school that early?” he asks with shock evident on his face.

“No, she goes to before-school care since I now start earlier here,” I tell him.

He scratches his chin. “Fine, I will organize a sitter to pick her up from school. Where does she need to go?”

“To my mother’s work at the medical practice.”

“Fine, I will organize her to be dropped to her, and we can drop her off on the way to the airport,” he says, leaving no room for argument, daring me to come up with another excuse.

“You can go home early today. We will be staying overnight, so go home and pack and send me a text once home with your niece’s details and instructions,” he says, dismissing me by waving his hand.

I internally groan; I hate flying and have managed to avoid it. I turn to walk out the door when Cyrus steps in my way, gripping my arms. He leans in, his face only inches off mine.

“And leave the attitude at home when we pick you up,” he whispers below my ear before letting me go and stepping back, a sly smirk creeping onto his face while my heart rate spikes, pounding erratically in my chest. I glare at him, stepping past him and leaving the office in a hurry.