Chapter 11

The chat group was exploding with messages.

Some people were trying to confirm it was actually Charles. Others were directly messaging him. Still more were posting photos of Charles from different interviews or articles."I think I'd better sign out," Charles said, grimacing at his screen. Comments were popping up at a rate that made his phone sound like a bubbling fish tank.

Is this Charles who played first base on the varsity baseball team?

No way, bro! So good to hear from you!

Charles, you probably don't remember me, but I sat behind you in algebra. How are you?

So excited you're coming, Charles!

Save me a dance, please! Xoxoxo

I watched the scrolling comments flicker past my screen with disbelief.

"Wow," I said, smiling as he signed out. "I think I got a single emoji greeting me and you get a tidal wave of comments."

He shrugged.

"That world feels like a hundred years ago." He put his phone in his pocket. "Back to more important things."

He turned to face me, his blue eyes crinkling slightly at the corners as he smiled. I felt a blaze of heat go from my head to my toes and looked down, unable to meet his gaze. I could feel a blush start to creep up my chest and neck.

"Don't you have to get back?" I asked..

He sighed and stretched. I chanced a peek and saw his strong, muscular torso flex.

"I suppose I need to. You sure you're doing okay?"

My heart was pounding. Trying to look sick wasn't hard. I literally thought I might throw up.

But if I didn't say something now, I may never have another chance.

"Charles?"

My voice faltered.

"Yes?" He leaned closer, attentive in a way I wasn't used to. My breath came more quickly. I could smell his vetiver scent and it muddled my mind.

I stood and walked a few paces away before I turned to face him, out of range of his scent, though I wasn't able to get away from his eyes.

"I'm so grateful for all you've done for me. Let me stay employed, being patient."

I cleared my throat and saw that his brow was beginning to furrow.

"Are you quitting?" he asked. His bluntness startled me. "This sounds like a quitting speech."

"No! Oh my gosh, no. I'm actually trying, very badly, to ask for a reassignment."

His head went back in surprise and I saw anger in his eyes. Anger and something else. Was it anxiety?

He clearly shifted to the mode that I was not familiar with. The intimidating one.

"Please don't be upset. It's nothing personal." I rushed on, hardly hearing myself in my desperation to soothe his feelings.

"It's just like what I said yesterday. I want to be a journalist. It's always been my dream. I've been working hard toward it my entire career, and I'd love to do it for you. For your company, I mean."

His head slowly went to one side as I blundered on, and I could see he was losing some of the fire in his eyes.

"I think I have a chance at another news outlet, but I feel loyal to ... to this company, and so obviously I'd rather..." I broke off out of breath.

I was rambling like an idiot. My face was fully on fire. Memories of the humiliation in the school parking lot my senior year were starting to creep back.

"Rather...?" he prompted, a slow smile forming on his face.

It made me relax. Here was the Charles I was used to, the one with the easy charm.

I took a deep breath.

"Rather work for this company. I think... I mean, I'm sure I have a lot to offer."

He nodded.

"First of all, Elena, I think you need to relax. You'll get yourself sick again if you keep this up, though I can see you feel passionately about it and that's good."

I blushed even harder, realizing my frenetic performance wasn't something a truly sick person would pull off.

"Second, I'll look at your file and see if it's possible or not. Is tomorrow soon enough for a response?" He smiled. "That is, if you're not too sick to come to work."

I nodded.

All right. Then I'll see you tomorrow?" He turned at the door and looked back at me. "Feel better."

"I wasn't really sick," I said miserably.

"I know," he said, and gave me a lopsided, mischievous grin before closing the door.

I wilted onto the sofa. For a second I stared at the wall, my heart pounding. What had I just done?

My phone buzzed again. Cathy was calling this time.

"Can you believe it, Elena?" Cathy gushed. "Your high school crush!"

I hesitated to tell Cathy that Charles had become my boss. I might get fired or resign soon anyway.

I tried not to let her get me excited and imagined the event would be a more stylish version of high school. Charles with his friends, nice but untouchable, not seeing me even when I was right under their noses.

He would surely prefer to meet with his old Alpha friends.

"He's going to want to be with his high school friends, Cathy. He's not going to care about me."

"That's what you think. You were gorgeous then, but you're even more now. I'll bet you some scented bath bombs he notices you this time."

Thankfully, this was all she insisted on saying before she was off on a different topic.

"So, what are you going to wear?" she asked.

I was startled into blankness. I hadn't got that far in my mind, which was still reeling from having just asked my boss, and the man I went weak in the knees for, to transfer me to another job.

"I don't think it matters what I wear."

"Oh, please. Not everyone is shallow enough to go on scent alone. You're beautiful, Elena! You should be proud of how you look and play up those assets."

"What would I do without a friend like you," I said, smiling with both exasperation and gratitude into my phone.

"You'd be miserable," Cathy replied. "Now walk me over to your closet and pull out that red number and the silver sparkly one I made you buy last winter. Hold it up and look in the mirror."

I looked. There was something a little juvenile in the cut despite the color. "Hm."

"Your 'hm' isn't inspiring," Cathy said. "Maybe the silver sequins?"

It danced in the light when I picked it up, and next to my face it brought out the green color of my hazel eyes.

If only people used their eyes like their noses, I thought for the millionth time since I was a teenager. I knew I wasn't that bad, and this dress made me look almost pretty.

I sent Cathy a picture.

"Gorgeous!" Cathy exclaimed. "And maybe all that sparkle will finally make people open their eyes and look at you."

"It doesn't matter!" I insisted. "Cathy, no one will notice me."

"You won't believe the numbers that are coming. They're still RSVPing, Elena!"

I sighed. It was going to be a long, torturous event.

I fell backwards on my bed and covered my head with the pillow, listening as Cathy continued to tell me names of people who were coming.

At least I already have a dress, I thought.

It was a good thing I did, because after my blundered job request with Charles there was an excellent chance I would walk into work the next day and find I'd been fired.