TRISTAN POV
I couldn't tear my gaze away from the woman standing beside Kent Jendry Gomez. From the moment I laid eyes on her when I entered the room, to the moment she introduced herself and we shook hands, a smirk had been plastered on my lips.
For weeks, I couldn't stop thinking about her, trying to understand why she left suddenly and why she tried to hide herself from me. I looked everywhere for her, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, and then, by chance, there she was, right in front of me. Fate had brought us together in a surprising way.
I was amazed at how things happened by chance, how we met without me needing to do anything. It felt like everything lined up perfectly to bring us together, and here we were, with my business partner, Kent Jendry Gomez's dad, unexpectedly. It really is a small world.
As I watched her, I couldn't help but see the quiet grace in her manner, how she moved with confidence and poise. Her eyes shone with intelligence, suggesting there was more to learn about her. She had an air of mystery about her, like a puzzle I wanted to solve, and I was intrigued by the mystery.
"Mr. Buenaventura, could I leave you here with Ms. Marquez? My son and I just need to have a quick conversation," Mr. Gomez said, sounding a bit urgent.
"Okay, Mr. Gomez, that's fine," I replied, nodding as he and his son left the room, leaving me alone with the mysterious woman sitting across from me.
"Thanks," he said gratefully before leaving the room with his son. As they left, the vibe changed, leaving me alone with the fascinating woman in front of me.
I coughed lightly, the sound breaking the silence in the room, and her eyes briefly glanced at me before looking away. There was something intriguing about her, something that fascinated me despite her mysterious aura.
With a polite smile, I gestured towards the nearby chairs. "Would you care to have a seat, Ms. Marquez?"
She smiled back, nodding gracefully as she sat down. "Thanks, Sir. It's nice to finally meet you."
"The pleasure is mine," I replied, sitting across from her. "So, how are you, Ms. Marquez?" I asked, breaking the silence between us.
She replied shortly, "I'm fine, sir," her voice carrying a sense of formality.
I couldn't help but chuckle at her reserved manner. "Oh, so formal," I remarked teasingly. "Can you please switch 'sir' to 'Tristan' or 'Buenaventura'? You can even use 'babe'." I just don't want to hear him call me 'sir' anymore; I'm tired of hearing it every day, and I'll get even more tired if he keeps addressing me like that."
"Sorry, but I don't think that's approved," she said firmly, her voice steady despite the fast beating of her heart.
"Oh? And why's that?" I asked, my tone casual, almost dismissive, but with a hint of curiosity beneath the surface.
"There are boundaries, Sir." she replied, her words carrying a subtle warning. She couldn't afford to let him cross the line, not when so much was at stake.
I raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "Boundaries? I don't see anything wrong with a little... friendly banter, do you?"
"There is," she insisted, refusing to yield, her determination growing stronger against his charm. "Because once I'm accepted as an employee here, you will also become my boss."
"Oh, please don't give me that excuse, Ms. Marquez," I replied, leaning back slightly in my seat. "Let's not focus on what-ifs. Besides, titles and formalities only create unnecessary walls between us. I'd prefer a more relaxed and open relationship, wouldn't you?"
She couldn't help but frown at what i said, a surge of frustration bubbling inside her. "Why not?" she demanded, unable to conceal the disbelief in her voice. "Just because you're used to getting what you want doesn't mean you can ignore professionalism."
My smile grew wider, a hint of mischief twinkling in my eyes. "Because I want to."
Samantha seemed ready to say more, her expression a mix of defiance and anger, when the door finally opened, and the father and son entered.
I faced them, feeling relieved by the timely interruption. The tension in the room seemed to fade away, replaced by a sense of normality as I concentrated on the task ahead.
"Sorry for the delay," the old man, Mr. Gomez, apologized as he entered the room, his weathered face marked with lines of sincerity.
"It's okay, Mr. Gomez," I reassured him with a warm smile, my eyes briefly glancing towards the Samantha standing beside him, her demeanor exuding professionalism. "I must say, I appreciated the time spent with your future secretary."
I stood up from my chair, feeling a sense of urgency creeping into my thoughts. "I think it's time to wrap up our meeting, Mr. Gomez," I said, my tone firm yet polite. "I have important things to take care of in Manila—papers to go through, meetings to attend."
Mr. Gomez nodded understandingly, his expression a mix of gratitude and regret. "Of course, Mr. Wade. Thank you for your time and visit today."
With a final nod, I reached out my hand, confirming our agreement with a firm handshake. "Thank you for coming, Mr. Buenaventura. It was nice talking business with you. Please say hello to your father for me."
"Sure thing," I replied, my voice carrying genuine warmth. "And feel free to reach out if you need anything else. Have a safe trip back to Manila." Mr. Gomez said.
The old man walked me to the door, his friendly smile engraved in my mind as I got ready to depart. Looking back at Samantha, I felt a pang of envy and annoyance. She was deep in talk with a man named Kent, their relaxed friendship clear in their gestures and laughter.
My hand clenched tightly at my side as I saw the bold hand of that man, Kent, resting casually on Samantha's waist. Anger surged within me, but I suppressed it, unwilling to create a scene in front of Mr. Gomez.
"Until next time, Mr. Buenaventura, and thanks again for coming," Mr. Gomez said, his tone was friendly as he offered his hand in farewell.
"No problem," I replied shortly, my smile forced as I shook his hand. Every part of me wanted to confront Kent, to ask why he was acting so boldly, but I knew I couldn't risk harming the business relationship with Mr. Gomez.
With one last nod, I walked out into the hallway, feeling the burden of anger and frustration. The path to the elevator lay ahead, dimly lit and strangely silent, reflecting the inner turmoil I was experiencing.
As I stepped into the elevator, the need to release my frustrations overwhelmed me, and I grabbed my phone, dialing my secretary's number with shaky hands. "TJ, cancel all my appointments for today," I said, my voice tight with restrained anger. "I need to deal with something urgent."
"Got it, sir," TJ's quick response came through the line, but it did little to calm my anger. I hung up abruptly, the sound of my breathing echoing loudly in the small elevator.
How could that jerk dare to touch Samantha, my belonging, in such a familiar way? The mere idea of it filled me with possessive anger, ready to engulf me completely.