Page 141 of Hate to Love You
Boris looks at Roman, who glares at him before giving a frigid nod.
“Medium iced matcha green tea latte,” he mutters, his cheeks tinting red.
“Coming right up!” I say, before turning to Roman expectedly. “You sure you don’t want anything, Boss?”
He smirks, shaking his head.
“You know my order.”
After waiting more than fifteen minutes for Boris’s Matcha, I slowly make my way back into the office, glancing down at the offending green drink in my hand, I realize the power I have right in front of me.
My heart pounds as I stop quickly at the benches and set the drinks down before quickly unclasping the necklace from my neck.
Quickly, I glance around, before grabbing the straw and swirling it around.
“Fuck it,” I whisper, dropping the Widowmaker in, before stirring it, making sure there’s no telltale signs.
Holding my chin high, I scoop up the drinks, heading straight toward the elevators. With my free hand I smash the button, before using my employee badge.
Okay, so I’m really doing this.
At the office.
In front of Roman.
Slowly the elevator climbs, floor by floor. And with each beep my heart rate increases with it.
This is more than just risky; this is fucking stupid. And I know it. But as the doors open to the executive floor, my body floods with adrenaline. High on the endorphins, I walk briskly over to Roman’s office, hearing his voice echoing down the aisle.
“McCleary can’t get away with this,” Roman seethes.
“Don’t worry boss, he won’t.” Boris replies darkly. “I’ve got guys on the ground already and they will—”
Without knocking I walk straight in.
“Sorry!” I chuckle as they both stare at me.
Lifting the drinks up, I give them a small shake.
“That took longer than it should have.”
Roman clicks his tongue.
“Apparently, the barista was new, and hadn’t had someone order an iced matcha green tea latte,” I ramble, deliberately leaning over the desk to place Roman’s black coffee in front of him, and catch him staring right down my top.
“So, they had to get someone back off their break and yeah…” I ramble before trailing off.
I hold the matcha out for Boris, staring back into his cold gaze. He reaches out and grabs the drink, before leaning forward to place it down onto Roman’s desk.
No. I want to see it happen. I need to know.
“If you don’t mind, could you try it? The lady said that they’ll redo it for you if there’s any issues,” I say, twisting my hands together as I intentionally lean against the desk, my back to Roman.
I know that he would see my demons, wrestling in their restraints as Boris brings the drink up to his lips.
At first, he takes a small sip, clicking his tongue inside his mouth, before nodding and taking a second much larger one.
Unable to stop myself, I bite my lip, watching him down nearly half of it, before nodding.