The billionaire's sweet editor
Chapter 18: Lucas: Blurry lines

Chapter 18: Lucas: Blurry lines

FOURTY-SIX days left before the event and I’m nowhere near the eureka to my magazine dilemma—not even in my dreams.

It’s a good thing Dad has been kind enough to let me off the hook with some minor preparations for the event, but it’s only showing just how much he wants me to be done with this magazine bestseller thing before he transfers me to the office right next to his.

It’s fucking stressful. I’ve tried sucking up to him so he can increase the duration period by another month, but none of it is working. It always ends up with us fighting and him telling me he won’t change his decision no matter what I do—because he’s not getting any younger.

The way he’s been repeating that phrase got me thinking he’s about to die of something, but knowing him he’d have told me already if he has a chronic illness or something. Blinking furiously so I can get a clear view of my magazine, I let out a heavy sigh.

I can’t count how many times I’ve sighed, rubbed my forehead, poured myself a cup of coffee, or chose not to eat, work, or sleep. Life sucks, but the past two weeks have been hell. I’ve produced dark circles and eye bags under my eyes for fucks sake.

Don’t even get me started on how sleepy and dizzy I’m constantly feeling these days. It’s like I’m a walking disaster waiting to happen, a zombie on the loose.

"Can I come in?" Glancing at my open door where the guest just announced herself, I’m not surprised to see Lynn shyly walking towards me, acting oblivious to the fact that I’m a taken man—though I can’t say I really am at the moment.

The news about Iris and I dating spread around like I had predicted: rapid and spiced. I’ve had people side-glancing and congratulating me for days now, starting from the reception right up to my team and a few higher-ups. Iris and I should be riding on this fame right now, building the gossip further until it not only sounds...but looks true—but my girlfriend has been ignoring me ever since telling me she wants to abstain.

No, she’s been running away from me.

You’d think working in the same department would make us cross paths often, but Iris is a pro at live version ghosting. Every time I see her and try to make a move, she mists her way out of my presence, and I’m always left wondering where she vanished.

One time I tried cornering her, but she gave me a glare so fierce I had no choice but to yield. I might want to talk to her but if she doesn’t feel comfortable, I won’t force her. Consent is something that comes first in all deals, even unwritten ones, especially if it has something to do with relationships.

Besides, I don’t blame her if she doesn’t want to be alone with me. Maybe she’s still in shock after what happened that day at my house. I mean, I’d want to avoid me too if I was her.

But I can’t deny just how much I miss her presence. Our shared moment of passion keeps replaying in my mind daily, and trust me, I want it to stop—but every time I peek at her through my glass wall, I just can’t help myself.

I want to ask her what I did wrong, but if it’ll help her work in peace, then I’ll keep my distance from her. After all, I still need a perfect magazine piece by month-end if I’m going to make it to the top of the bestsellers chart.

"How is Iris?" Lynn resounds my thoughts, offering herself a seat without my consent. She is part of the reasons why Iris keeps replaying in my mind all the time. She has been visiting me a little too often these days, and seeing her reminds me of why this fling with Iris started in the first place.

"She’s good thank you for asking. How may I help you?"

Resting her elbow on the armrest, she smirks. "Are you sure? Rumors are going around that you two broke up."

Already?

"And why would you assume I care about useless gossip?"

"Because the gossip seems to be true," she replies, leaning toward my desk. Pushing the file disturbing her elbows, she rests her face in both her palms, cupping her cheeks and giving me a toothy grin.

Furrowing my brows at her, I let go of last year’s May issue of our magazine that I’d been inspecting. "Don’t waste my time and get to the point, Lynn."

"That’s why I like you, always ready for action," she squeaks, pulling the chair closer to my desk so she can lean in further. Her cleavage shows when she does but instead of delivering the desired effect, it’s doing the opposite—a fucking repulsion. "I saw you two ignoring each other last week, and that seems to be the case this week too."

Oh, so that’s why you’ve been visiting me every day since last week.

"Are you sure you still want to keep your job?" The smirk on her face drops, my heart swelling up in joy at watching her falter. "Keep bad-mouthing my girlfriend and I’ll show you just how much of an asshole I can be."

"Asshole or not, I still like you."

"Even though he already has a girlfriend?" We both turn to face the door, and my heart swells a little more. Iris is leaning on the door, intensely gazing at Lynn with brows arched up, further driving the point she’s trying to make home.

The red dress she’s wearing, with the broad wing design thing draping from her shoulders, is adding to her intimidation. Like the horn dog I realized I am for an entire two weeks now, I gulp at the sight, immediately imagining myself ripping the cloth off of her—structured wings and all.

"Are you sure you’re his girlfriend? If I were his girlfriend, I wouldn’t neglect him at his lowest like you’re doing," Lynn challenges, shifting in her seat so she can have a full view of her competitor.

"What do you..."

"I’m here aren’t I?" Iris cuts me, eyes darkening with each taunt that passes between her and Lynn.

"Because you saw me coming in here first to comfort him."

Scoffing, Iris enters my office, curly hair bouncing around her shoulders as she struts toward my desk. She sits next to Lynn, tilting her head to the side as she sizes her opponent. Nostalgia hits like a freaking sledgehammer. She did that to me the first time we met for her interview.

"Look here, Lynn. I know my boyfriend better than you do. I know when he needs space and when he needs help, something you can’t seem to grasp because you’re too fucking obsessed with him."

"I’m not-"

Iris raises her hand to stop her, and I immediately notice the change in her nails. The ones I remember were much shorter and sharper. I still have the marks on my back from—shut up you idiot! Pinching myself under my desk, I turn back my attention to Iris.

"Stubbornness won’t cover up for you honey. You are obsessed and it shows in the most disgusting ways possible," she says sitting up straight and maintaining eye contact with Lynn. I’ve never seen Lynn look so defeated and exposed. I swear I can see a thin film of tears form in her eyes.

"I hate to be the one to wake you up, but Lucas is taken. Let him go. You’ll miss out a lot in life trying to woo someone’s man—who by the way, isn’t even a tiny bit interested in you."

I’m waiting for Lynn to clap back so I can step in and defend Iris, bagging me a spot in the cool guy’s department without trying, but the joke’s on me. Confirming my suspicions from earlier, Lynn’s eyes water, and the next moment, her lip is quivering and she looks like she’s struggling for air.

"F-five years...," voice shaky and words muffled, she keeps on rambling. "I thought he’d at least give me a chance if I try...," she trails off.

Iris pats her shoulder, face mirroring that of Lynn—pained and sorrowful. "Want to talk outside?" She suggests, and Lynn nods, accepting Iris’ help as they stand from the chairs, walking hand-in-hand out of my office.

The next moment, I’m left alone, dazed and confused. What the fuck just happened?

The last time I remember, the two of them couldn’t sit together for a second without ripping each other out with words. Suddenly out of nowhere, they’re supporting each other and leaving my office like long-lost siblings who just found they share the same parents.

Shaking my head and deciding it isn’t a matter to waste my time on, I continue with my magazine assessment. I have much more pressing issues at hand; issues that could determine whether I am a competent son or not.

However, a part of me wants to leave everything on my desk and follow the two of them wherever they went. The last thing I want is gossip about a fight spreading around the company, especially if it involves my girlfriend in it.

Fuck, even calling Iris my girlfriend feels off now than it did a few weeks ago.

★★★★★