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Christian’s POV
I watched, my mind reeling with anger, as Davis walked around Alex’s desk and settled into her chair.
He leaned back, smirking. "Oh, Christian, you're just jealous."
My temper flared even higher.
"Jealous? Are you kidding me? I'm just disgusted by your behavior. You're her boss, for God's sake. You're supposed to be professional."
He rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on. We're just having a little fun. Alex doesn't mind."
"That's not the point," I growled. "It's not your place to decide what she does or doesn't mind. You need to back off, or there will be consequences."
With that, I turned around and stormed out of the office, my blood boiling with anger.
How could David be so reckless and unprofessional? It was unacceptable, and I couldn't just stand by and watch it happen.
As I walked down to my car, I threw the lunch I brought for Alex into a nearby bin, realizing too late that I was still holding it. My mind was too preoccupied to care right then.
I could still hear Davis’s words ringing in my ears. "Oh, Christian, you're just jealous." Jealous? That was the last thing I felt. Disgusted, frustrated, and angry were more like it.
It wasn't his place to decide what she did or didn't mind. And if he didn't back off, he would meet the real Christian Sanchester. But as I got into my car and started driving away, a new worry began to gnaw at me.
Alex definitely had not looked happy before she had stormed out of her office. I hadn’t meant to hurt her or damage our relationship by causing a scene at her workplace, but I also hadn't expected to catch Davis in the act of harassing her. She was a strong and independent woman, but this kind of behavior from her boss was making her uncomfortable and unhappy.
I made up my mind and took a detour to Alex’s fancy apartment. As I drove, my mind raced with worry. I kept calling her phone, but it went straight to voicemail. All kinds of dire scenarios ran through my mind.
Her apartment, was dark and quiet when I arrived. I rang the bell and knocked, but no one answered. I kept trying to call her, and it kept going straight to voicemail.
Feeling helpless, I decided to call Valerie. "Hey, Valerie. It's Christian. I'm trying to reach Alex, but I can't seem to get hold of her. Have you seen or heard from her today?"
"No, I haven't. Is everything okay? Why are you trying to reach her?"
"I'm just worried about her. She hasn't been answering her phone, and I can't find her anywhere."
Valerie's concern was evident in her voice. "Oh, my god. Let me call Sophie and see if she's heard from her. I'll call you back as soon as I hear anything."
I ended the call and waited anxiously for Valerie to call me back. Minutes felt like hours as I paced back and forth in front of Alex's luxury apartment building. When my phone finally rang, I nearly jumped out of my skin.
"Christian, I just spoke to Sophie, and she hasn't heard from Alex either."
"Hello there Christian," someone said. It was Alex's neighbor, a sweet older lady named Mrs. Jenkins.
"Hi Mrs. Jenkins, have you seen Alex this evening?" I asked. "She's not answering her phone, and I'm really worried about her."
Mrs. Jenkins frowned. "Well, she did come home earlier, but she left again not long after. She looked upset, and when I asked her what was wrong, she said something about needing some time to herself."
I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. Had I upset Alex so much that she needed to get away from me? That would be horrible.
"Thanks, Mrs. Jenkins. I'll try to find her." I called her again and left a message on her phone. "Alex, it's me. I'm really sorry about earlier. I just want to talk to you and make things right. But I understand if you need some space. Just please let me know that you're okay."
I got into my car and drove aimlessly, feeling angry and frustrated with myself. I knew I had overreacted earlier, and now I was worried that Alex was more upset with me than I had first thought. As I drove, my mind kept replaying the scene, and I couldn't shake the feeling of regret.
Without really thinking, I pulled up to a bar. It was quiet, and I could see a few people inside, drinking and chatting. I thought about going in, ordering a drink, and drowning my sorrows, but I was an angry drunk. Better to do my drinking at home.
Given that I knew how much Alex valued her job, so much so that she’d refused the very serious job offers I extended to her, and I really should have trusted her to handle the situation in her own way.
I drove home and I walked in, feeling empty and regretful. I went straight to the living room and poured myself an expensive whiskey, hoping it would help calm my nerves.
