Eat The Rich (bxb)

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Chapter Sixteen


It was back to Monday morning in the blink of an eye, I shouldn't have been doing extra work but I did. Valentina convinced me to go out for dinner on Sunday night and I eventually agreed, it would be healthy for me to actually leave the flat over the weekend.

Not once did I bring up Arran and their dreaded chat today, I wasn't ready for her to get catty or start crying so I remained silent. Waiting for her to come to me about it when it happens and what he says. Realistically, I don't want her to even give him the time of day, but we are different people and that's how life plays out. Right now she's thinking of her own emotions and how her heart broke when he threatened their relationship and now she's holding onto that.

We don't speak about work or Weston either, which I was glad. Needing completely new topics to talk about instead because I knew we'd just end up getting sick of each others daily dramas.

Thinking about the weekend on the journey into work, my favourite time to travel was when it was early so that no one else was really on the train. Beating the later rush hour, making my day feel stress free.

Over the weekend I had grounded my findings that Weston wanted me to bring up with his directors, making sure that I knew what to say before blubbering out a mess of words. Weston wanted me to speak up, so I would. I wanted to prove to him that I can take on constructive criticism, wanting to be apart of the team.

There was just one thing I wanted to go over with Weston, to check that my information was correct. The office was completely deserted and it felt eery but in a good way, a silent way.

My feet carry me towards Weston's office, unsure if he would even be here this early. Even I broke a new record, the receptionist not at her desk yet.

Through the tainted glass window of his office, I notice him standing by his desk, his silhouette blurry. My eyes notice as his door is wide open, taking long confident strides up to his door. Reaching my knuckles over to the wood and turning slightly into his office.

"Hey Weston, do you have a min—" my mouth slaps shut in complete shock. "Oh shit sorry."

My eyes catching a glance at Weston as he holds his white long sleeved shirt in one hand, his torso completely bare. I didn't want to look but I kind of had to, his chest was tanned and toned and flawless. His shoulders broad, arms thick. Everything about this situation had my face up in flames, I didn't need any more reasons to fancy him.

Weston chuckles at my clear awkwardness as I attempt to shield my eyes like he had his private parts out. "Sorry Micah," he says lightly.

I purse my lips and stare in between the door way, my hand resting on the white painted arch. "No that's my fault," I gulp as I watch him out of the corner of my eye throw on his shirt. "I shouldn't have barged in here like that."

"The coffee machine bursted one of the pods and it went all over my shirt," Weston explains before laughing slightly. "Why do we have machines? We should just do things ourselves."

My eyes turn back to his as he does up his buttons. "Does that logic go for computers?" I say playfully.

Weston stares back at me, a small grin on his face. "Maybe," he breathes out. "How much do you like to read and send letters in the post?"

"Oh loads," I say enthusiastically, taking a few steps further into his office. "It's my favourite thing to do, I get a thrill out of waiting three to five working days for a response."

His smile never fades, that smile making me quiver at the core. So much for that stupid crush. Eventually he sits down in his chair and moulds his hands together. "Yes I do have a minute," he says, beckoning me to come closer.

"I just wanted to ask you something about what I found," I exhale as I drop my bag down onto the floor.

Weston clicks his fingers instantly. "I'm all ears."

. . .

At lunch I received a text, a text that made me smile because I hadn't heard from him in so long.

Abel, asking if I wanted to go out on Friday night and have a catch up. My fingers couldn't text him back quick enough, telling him that I was there and I already couldn't wait.

He was there for me throughout the bad times of university and through all the shifts at Cafe Cosmo, I had no idea how I would have done it without him.

We plan a nice evening out, dinner followed by some drinks. For the first time, I actually wished the week would hurry up so we could get to Friday already. The first time I had proper plans in a while.

By Friday I was out of the door faster than a lightning bolt, I was in desperate need of some good food and delicious cocktails. I knew that Abel could relate, he always knew the best restaurants and cocktail bars with the best prices. London is his kingdom.

When I see him I give him the biggest hug, followed by extreme rambling from the both of us. We eat at an Italian restaurant, both catching up with our lives. Abel still works at Cafe Cosmo but considering Marco is his brother, I understand why.

"So you'll never guess who I work for," I say as I swipe my palms down the table.

Abel looks back at me with an inquisitive look. "Who?" He asks, leaning forward on his elbows.

"Remember Marco had that friend called Weston, the one who tipped me that money?" I ask, unsure if he'll remember. The customers at Cafe Cosmo are definitely strange characters, I'm sure he's had rather bizarre encounters since I left.

He gasps instantly. "Of course, I do!" He shouts. "Weston? You work for Weston?"

I slowly nod my head back to him as he opens his mouth wider. "Shut the front door," he shakes his head in disbelief. "How did that happen?"

"Not entirely sure," I say as I take a tip on my Long Island iced tea. "I mean realistically I should have known when I applied but it skipped by me. When I turned up on my first day, he was there."

"I would have paid to see that," Abel nods towards me.

"It's fine now though," I explain, not that anything was wrong in the first place. "We're working on this important project thing together with some other people, it's going well."

Abel smiles back at me as he leans in his chair. "I'm so pleased Micah, I really am. This is so great to hear."

The waiter comes over to lay down two more cocktails, I mentally sighed because I was nowhere near finishing the one I already had. Abel thanks him and watches as he walks away. "He's cute, isn't he?"

My eye narrows slightly at his comment. "The waiter?" I question. Abel hums and takes a big gulp of his cocktail. "For you or for me?"

He looks back at me, pulling a strange smile. "For me silly." He says.

My mouth parts slightly as I lick my lips. "Are you bisexual?" I ask genuinely.

"Yeah," he breathes out with a firm nod.

"I had no idea," I say honestly, attempting to down my cocktail.

Abel shrugs in my direction. "Guess I've just not seen that many fit guys," he tells me. "I'm picky when it comes to anyone, you know that."

I agree with him, he was unbelievably picky. Unsure how he managed to stay in a relationship for more than three months.

"So what's going on with you?" He shoots me down. "Have you got any guys on the scene?"

My head shakes almost instantly. "Unfortunately not," I push my lips into my teeth.

The single life was a great life to live but when would I ever find a boyfriend? I've never been in a relationship and I'm starting to think that I'm undateable, or maybe unapproachable.

"What about any guys you like?" He raises an eyebrow at me in suspicion.

"There is a guy I like," I say eventually.

Abel hums harshly. "Who?" He demands.

"Just some guy at work," I lie, partially. He wasn't just some guy at work, he was the guy at work.

"Does he know you like him?"

My mouth gapes slightly before shaking my head violently. "No not at all,"

"You should tell him," Abel says as he slams his hand down on the table, startling me.

"Really?" I question, his proposal sounding like the biggest mistake I could ever make.

"Micah," he levels his head with me, which is when I know he's getting serious. "We only live once, we are only here on this planet once. Telling someone you like them is scary but you never know, he might like you too."

I ponder for a moment, my teeth beginning to chew on my lips. "What's the worst that could happen? He turns you down? Okay fine, pick yourself up and get on with life. Everyone has their ups and downs, you can't fall at the first hurdle. Life is about taking chances and living for today."

His words struck something in me because deep down I knew he was right, but he didn't know that it's my boss and a lot is riding on this. It could make work extremely awkward that I would need to change jobs. I didn't want to change jobs, I love my job and I don't want to ruin things.

"Just think about it," Abel says as be brings me back to the conversation. "It just might be the best thing you've decided to do, taking that leap of faith. It must feel so amazing."

"And so bloody petrifying," I add as my eyes widen slightly.

Abel smiles at me sympathetically. "Will it matter in a years time? Will it matter in a months time? Hell, would it even matter in a weeks time? Probably not, something else would have happened by then and before you know it, what you've said would have been forgotten."

My mouth exhales a deep breath as I stare at a spot on the table, even the idea of saying that I liked him made me want to vomit with nerves. "But I'm not doubting this, Micah you're a catch." He says confidently from across the table.

"Anyone would be stupid to not like you, you've got it all." Abel says, his voice soft and it made my shoulders relax slightly.

"Thanks Abel," I tell him. "I'll think about it."

. . .

I wasn't sure what time I stumbled home at, Abel and I definitely had one too many cocktails. My head was spinning and I could barely walk in a straight line, this definitely wasn't what I was planning tonight.

All I could think about was what Abel said about my crush on Weston, it played in my head on repeat. All night. Was what he said right? We do only live once, maybe it was time to be brave and think about myself for once. But at the same time, would it sabotage everything?

My stomach twisted in an array of courageousness but on the other hand, fear crept up inside my body. But with every step I took, the alcohol dampened out the fear and all I was left with was unnecessary boldness.

Reaching for my phone in my pocket as I walked down the street to my house, barely making out the words on the screen as I scrolled through my contacts. My fingers fumble, pressing the wrong things but eventually I get to where I want.

Pressing harshly on the call icon and throwing the phone up to my ear, listening to it ring. For a few moments I was convinced he wasn't going to pick up, I didn't want to try again but something inside me would have made me.

"Micah?" His deep, raspy voice stretches through the phone. Clear that he had just woken up. "It's four in the morning."

"I know," I slur, my phone slipping from my hand slightly. "I just wanted to get something off my chest."

Weston groans slightly at my words, most probably irritated that I had woken him up. "Micah, can this wait?"

"No," I say instantly, my eyes sore from all the alcohol I had consumed. "I need to tell you this. I need to tell you that I think about you all the time, I can't get you out of my stupid head and it is—" my throat clenches for a second. "—killing me."

For a moment the phone line is silent before Weston sighs. "Micah you're drunk, you need to go to bed." His voice sounded slightly concerned.

"You know what?" My voice raises slightly. "I don't care if I've embarrassed myself, this is how I feel and I should be able to say how I feel. I like you Weston, okay? There I said it, and there's no going back. You might hate me and you might not end up speaking to me again but we only live once and I needed to be honest with myself."

"Micah please," he pleads down the phone, his voice slightly harsh. "Please just go to bed."

My heart stings, my eyes staring straight ahead not being able to find any more words to say. My confidence crushed in front of me. "Fine," I breathe out before instantly disconnecting the call.

As I reach my block of flats, I felt like I was carrying dead weight. My mind feeling betrayed from my own actions. The alcohol was still happily flowing through my body, that I wasn't upset enough to accept what just happened.

Carrying myself to bed and falling face first down onto the mattress. My body floating to sleep within a nanosecond, completely ignoring the events that just unfolded.
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