Mask Me by Sappharia Mayer

Author:Sappharia Mayer [Mayer, Sappharia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781648930003
Publisher: Eidyllio Publishing LLC

Chapter 22

“Ma’am?” Katie knocks on the door, peering inside.

“Come.”

“Ma’am, Edmund is here to see you. He doesn’t have an appointment.”

I nod, hoping that things will once again return to the way they were just a few days ago, the whole incident forgotten and past.

“Send him in, Katie.”

Her voice lowers to a whisper as she quickly approaches my desk, “Should I alert security, Ma’am?”

The sincere question makes me realize Kade paid her a visit and explained his concerns. The only reason she’s asking me instead of following the orders I know Kade left is because of her recent mistake in handling Mr. Gabriel’s unannounced visit.

“No need. It will be fine. Show Edmund in.” I look up and give her a soft smile but not believing a word coming out of my mouth. Admonishing myself for allowing history to bias my current situation, I look back down to the page on my desk as a way of dismissal. When she turns to leave, I lift my eyes slightly to watch her disappear through the door.

“Alexandra will see you now,” her soft voice lilts, and she once again appears with Edmund in tow.

Keeping my head down, I pretend to write and focus on the task I was working on before the announcement of Edmund’s arrival. It’s all an act. Power to make sure that Edmund believes nothing has changed because of his proposal. The power still lies with me, without question or concern.

His tall, fit form stands gracefully in his well-tailored bespoke suit. He holds a dozen blue roses, tied elegantly in a long velvet ribbon. His long graceful fingers put just enough pressure on the stems to balance them but not enough to show tension in the situation.

I look up from my desk, placing the top on the carbon fiber fountain pen and setting it into the mahogany box with a myriad of others. Each move is slow, elegant and precise, refusing to show any level of tension or concern.

“Please do come in, Edmund. Have a seat.”

In measured steps, he approaches my desk, laying the bouquet in front of me before unbuttoning his jacket and gliding down into the seat.

“They are beautiful, thank you,” I acknowledge in a slow Southern drawl. “To what do I owe this most unusual visit?”

Edmund has only ever graced my office once in the nearly ten years of our professional interaction. It was the day he applied for membership, our professional association starting shortly after. In all that time he’s been nothing but a gentleman. He is intense but soft-spoken. Every movement is done to perfection, and when perfection is not obtained, the need for true, harsh punishment is always obvious. Our sessions give him the time to tangibly feel all the comments, thoughts, and emotions he can’t afford to acknowledge throughout the day.

His stilted business posture makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. While we have a formal ritualistic relationship, there has never been a hard undertone or power struggle in our interactions.

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