Iris: Choices and consequences

THE PAST few hours have been a roller coaster of events and emotions, but nothing compares to the shameful moment I'm having now.

After Mary told me she couldn't drive me back home because of whatever perverted reason made her retouch her makeup and clothes; she tasked me with asking Lucas for a ride—which I would have done...if he was in his office. His laptop was resting open on his desk though, so I knew he hadn't left yet.

Deciding to book a cab back home, I began packing my bag, and that's when Lynn walked in, holding a wrapped box and grinning from ear to ear.

She ignored me as usual, before taking a peek at Lucas' office and I must say; the satisfaction I got when she scrunched her nose from the realization that she had to talk to me could enlighten an entire nation's worth of depressed hearts.

"Where is Luke," Lynn asked in a nasally induced voice, awkwardly adjusting the box in her hands.

Luke?

"I don't know," I shrugged, pretentiously typing on my phone, and sparing her a glance, "You can leave the box here and I'll give it to him when he comes back."

"Tell him it's the stuff he asked for," she replied, placing the box next to my feet before tucking a strand of hair and looking at me with a suggestive expression on her face. "He said he really needs this, so don't damage it okay?"

I nodded and picked up the box, heading over to Lucas' door whilst Lynn turned to leave. She was giggling at herself like she just came from throwing about spells, which annoyed me. A lot.

Ugh, the stubbornness.

From what I know through our short encounters, Lynn is too stubborn to admit defeat—which explains why she can't let go of a guy who's been rejecting her advances for two years now. I can tell she's going to be hurt because, like her, I too was once a fucking stubborn brat.

But after taking therapy classes back in high school, I soon learned to channel my obduracy somewhere it's needed. Unfortunately, I had to drop my sessions during my college days because my therapist died, otherwise, I'd have given her his contact details.

I was about to place the box down when Lynn appeared from nowhere and scooped it back. "Never mind, I'll wait for him," she said somehow managing to hold the heavy thing in one hand whilst taking out her phone to check herself out.

Lucky for her, I am here to wake her up from her stubborn pursuit of unrequited love. Taking out my phone, I decided to warn Lucas about her; but as I was beginning to type the message—a totally unrelated, and almost sinful idea came to mind.

After seeing the way Lucas reacts to me when we're alone, teasing him has ever since been my favorite hobby, and it seems like my brain had made a section reserved just for him with the way this idea just popped out of nowhere.

But this might be a little extre—just do it!

Before I could think rationally, I typed the message and pressed send, silently cackling to myself...until I heard an iPhone notification buzz then voilà—Lucas was standing a few meters away from us, glaring at me in a feisty-alpha male way that made me shudder most satisfactorily.

Shit, I just called him Daddy.

My palms became sweaty, and I wanted the ground to swallow me and leave no imprints behind, but nothing of that sort was happening.

Three torturous minutes have passed now, and I'm beginning to question every other major life choices I've ever made because calling Lucas Daddy was such a nasty idea.

After letting me burn for what felt like an eternity, Lucas finally takes lengthy strides toward me, not taking his green eyes off me, and the next moment, he's hugging my waist. If goosebumps aren't enough, I hiccup when he slowly circles the back of my waist.

"I'm done with the meeting now, can you wait for me whilst I take my bag in the office?" He growls in a low husky voice that comes out more like a warning than an update.

My voice is barely above a whisper when I reply, "Yes," making him smile at me, before turning to face Lynn—who's face is so wrinkled she might need a steamer to get it back in shape.

"How can I help you?" He questions. The scowl on her face falters when he speaks to her, though I can't say the same about her voice.

"I-I came with the magazines you asked for," she stutters, handing him the box.

"Thank you so much," Lucas exclaims accepting the box and flexing his muscles in the process. Then he turns to me and gives me a wink that takes me by surprise. I want to tell him to stop but damnit, I'm a sucker for handsome faces, and he looks so good when he winks.

I'm so invested in his face that I don't realize we're being watched until Lymn clears her throat.

"Are you two by any chance...dating?" She asks, whilst fidgeting with her nails. Poor Lynn. Why did she have to ask that now?

"Yes," Lucas and I both reply at the same time, and we watch as Lynn's face turns to a depressing shade of pale as if she just got her soul sucked by a dementor.

"S-since when?"

Ah. The million-dollar question. Thank goodness for Lucas and his perfectionist ass. We discussed this in our meeting earlier today.

"Last week," Lucas turns to look at me, his eyes gleaming brightly as if he is truly in love," I confessed last week."

Pfft. If I knew he was such a good actor, I wouldn't have warned him on the phone and embarrassed myself. I try to match his energy, smiling shyly like a hopeless romantic.

"Oh my god, congratulations!" Lynn screeches, which is NOT the reaction Lucas and I were expecting, "I'll tell the others about the good news."

"Wait!" Lucas calls out, but Lynn doesn't wait. In no time she's out of the office and we're left peeking at her through the glass walls like Meerkats watching out for danger.

"Great, another pile of shit to stress over."

I blink at Lucas, "Isn't it good that she spreads the message? That eases work for us."

He shrugs, "Probably, but you don't know how gossip travels here. It won't be a surprise to hear them say Lynn caught us fucking in my office."

"What?" I laugh, "that's diabolical. You're diabolical!"

"Not as much as you," Lucas replies, opening the door to his office. He places the box on his table and takes out his phone. "I told you to never tease me unless you want me to fuck your brains out, but you just had to go out of your way and call me Dad-"

"Please don't remind me."

Finishing whatever he was typing, Lucas walks out of his office to where I am and leans on the wall, his hair forming the curtain thingy on his face, making him look ten times more attractive than he was a second ago.

"Why not?" He asks, his voice low and demanding.

I flex my shoulders, trying to find words to say, but nothing comes to mind. He's right, I called him Daddy to tease him. Nothing I say right now will be able to undo the text.

"I got a boner in my office after you told me you were wet, and a few hours later you call me daddy. Tell me what I'm supposed to think after that, Iris, because all I can think of right now is pinning you to these walls and showing you what teasing me feels like."

My palms get sweaty, and I can't stand still. His words should gross me out, but hearing him say it in that seductive voice feels like a sin. And why the fuck is it getting hot in here.

"I will show you," Lucas adds after a momentary pause when a knock comes on our department's door, before whispering, "Just you wait."

A man dressed in black Salvador pants and white Tees knocks on the door again, standing stiffly with his eyes roaming about the building like an ex-military man.

"Come in Paul, the box is right here," Lucas calls out whilst pointing in his office. The tall broady guy walks in, nodding robotically as he passes by me, and I take his arrival as my chance to escape.

I try my best to tippy-toe in my heels toward my desk and pack my stuff. But before I even pick up the pen on my laptop, I feel a large familiar masculine presence behind me.

"Let's go, Iris," Lucas says in that enchanting voice that makes me still for no reason. Paul is nowhere in the room.

We're alone.

Clutching my bag and draping my lavender blazer over my arm, I put on my best poker face. "Let's go," I reply, my voice betraying the composure I'm faking.

Truth is, I can't be alone with Lucas from now on without thinking about touching him. He told me to use him however I like, and I know exactly what he meant—but my stubbornness just won't allow me to be the one to make the first move. I want him to be the one on his knees begging for it.

As if he knows what I'm thinking, Lucas' hand grabs mine, and he pulls the bag and the blazer off my wrist. "I'll carry this for you," he adds placing my hand in his and pulling us out of the office.

Mmmm, killing two birds with one stone.

We get to beat Lynn about announcing our relationship to the company, and he makes the first move. I smile to myself whilst doing summersaults in my head.

"Do you want to drop somewhere before going home?"

I shake my head, "No," I reply as we make our way to the elevator, fighting the needy urge to tell him to take us to a hotel.

"Okay," is all he says as we enter the elevator, whilst a few curious eyes gawk at us, marking the start of yet another phase of drama in my short life.

I just hope I come out of this after getting the most out of this handsome man. At least that way, I'll know I suffered for something worthwhile.

★★★★★

Paul parks the car right outside my gate and exits, before rounding the Rolls-Royce Phantom VIII to open my side. I'd always known that Lucas was rich ever since googling his name and finding it under the youngest richest Africans in the world.

I just hadn't known how rich—until the ride back home we just had.

The dude has a fucking fridge in his car and a personalized interior that looks like it could pay up for my entire livelihood in the coming five years or so. It's a simple cream-themed setup, but one glance at it, and I knew I was in for the most luxurious ride ever.

He wasn't kidding when he asked me if I wanted money in exchange for my services in the deal. This guy probably wipes his ass with hundred-dollar bills after taking a dump.

A large hand wraps around mine as Paul helps me exit the car. I can't help but smile at him shyly because this would be the first time a man other than my grandpa took my hand to help me exit the car.

I'm still enjoying the moment, when Lucas breaks the contact our hands have, before filling Paul's spot instead.

"Hey!" I groan, furrowing my brows at him, "You just ruined my princess moment!"

"I'm the boyfriend here, babe," Lucas says placing my jacket on my shoulders and pulling me to him, " if you want princess treatment, just tell me and I'll give it to you all day every day."

Oh.

"I'll come and pick you up tomorrow for work, so be ready by seven," he adds with a smirk and I smile at him.

Dating deal or not, he's a sweet guy. I know it by now, and there's no denying it. Using the coffee incident on him is just my way of getting the upper hand against him, otherwise, I got the apology I wanted a long time ago.

"I'll watch you get inside before leaving," he adds, gesturing for me to enter and adding to my internal monologue about him being sweet.

"Goodbye," I wave at him before heading inside with a smile on my face.

The house is quiet when I enter the kitchen moments later—even though my grandparents are seated on the couch, hugging each other like baby bears.

Cute.

Watching them feels like seeing an episode of love I'll never get to experience.

Because you're too stubborn to fall in love, my subconscious throws a bar and I hiss at it—loudly.

My grandparents flinch and turn to face me, to which I still. Grandma has red puffy eyes with tissues in her hand, and a half-hearted smile that doesn't reach the eyes is showing on Grandpa's face.

I automatically remove my heels and head over to lean next to them. "What's wrong?... Why are you crying, grandma?" My voice is low and scarred, but that is nothing compared to my heartbeat.

I've only ever seen my grandparents look this distraught when Grandma's writer friend died, so to see them like this once again makes the worst-case scenarios play in my head like a CD on repeat.

Did someone die? Is one of them sick—wait...did one of them get diagnosed with a chronic disease?

I try my best not to alarm them with loads of questions, but Grandma's sobs increase and I can't keep still. "Please tell me before I start crying too," I finally let out, my eyes on the verge of watering.

"Vanessa took the bag I bought her for our anniversary last year," Grandpa replies, his voice an ombre of composed anger and composure.

Damnit. Why did such good parents have to give birth to such a child?

I pull the both of them into a hug, gritting my teeth in suppressed anger—until grandma drops the banger.

"She said she wanted to sleep in your room, so I gave her the keys and..."

I don't wait for her to finish before I sprint upstairs to my room, and when I open the door, my heart sinks to my feet. Everything I've ever cherished is gone. My favorite clothes, my shoes, and even my makeup kit; everything I consider pretty is gone.

But that is the least of my concerns as I scan through my wardrobe. When Lucas asked if I write, I said no, but in reality, I do. I have a mini laptop that I store under my stack of blankets just for that purpose because I write only once a month when I feel like it.

I was now on chapter nine of my work in progress, and I had backed it up—but losing that live progress would still hurt.

And I'm right about that because when I can't find my laptop, my heart short-circuits and everything goes black for a second. My breath becomes uneven and I feel the sudden urge to shout, but I don't.

If the situation isn't favorable and you want to recollect yourself, leave the space and go somewhere quiet.

That's what my therapist used to tell me whenever I told him home feels suffocating with mom there, and right now, his advice looks inviting.

Without waiting any longer, I turn on my heel and head downstairs. The old couple is still cuddling on the couch, but they stand when I appear from the staircase.

"Where are you going?" Grandpa asks after seeing me turn toward the door.

"Next door," I lie. The Adams siblings are not yet home. Mary left me at work, and Jerald won't be coming home anytime soon.

"Be back before dinner," Grandpa adds without questioning me further.

"I will," I reply opening the French door and deciding to go for a walk. The last thing I expect to see when I open the gate to leave is the Rolls-Royce I left a while ago still parked outside.

Both Lucas and Paul turn when they hear the sound of the gate opening, and Lucas' face immediately drops when we make eye contact.

"Are you okay?" are the first words that escape his mouth, magically working on me like a spell as the tears I had been holding in for so long start to escape.

Lucas immediately walks over at an alarming speed before grabbing my shoulders and pulling me into a hug. I lean into him, knowing fully well that I have one hell of an explanation to do—but for now, I let myself bask in the comfort of his chest.

★★★★★