Chapter 39: Knife Assault

< Shirley >
"Damn, it's such a hard decision. I wonder if I should inform them." Dylan was testing my patience real hard. Like he was seriously playing with me, and I was having a hard time not throwing away everything on his desk.
I took deep breaths, trying not to lose my calm because I promised myself I wouldn't go back to throwing things in anger. I had another plan in mind.
After checking my jeans pocket, I got up from the chair and stood beside him with a dead serious look in my eyes. He tilted his face at me amusedly, a few strands of his hair falling on the side. I slammed my palm on his desk and inched closer to his face whereas he showed no change of expressions.
"Do you think invading my personal space will scare me?" Dylan cocked his eyebrow sarcastically and inched even closer to me, making my heart race like crazy.
Before I could speak up, he slipped his hand around my waist, sending electric waves all over my body, and pulled me closer. Our lips were mere inches apart as I was caged in his arms, so I couldn't brush him away unless he removed his arms.
Too close, too close. I squeezed my eyes shut, not being able to tolerate his intense gaze. I had already forgotten how to breathe.
"I don't know what you're trying to do, but that's how you entice someone with closeness." His face was so close to me, I felt like even if he would move his lips, it would touch mine. At that moment, I even thought about going forward and kissing him already, but I didn't have that much courage.
Gosh, I was hating the butterflies in my stomach. For God's sake, I didn't eat any butterfly to deserve this!
"Ms. Hamilton, are you alright?" Dylan whispered sensually, bringing his lips near my ear, letting his breath fan over there.
I shook my head and managed to gather my courage, trying not to get fazed by his closeness. "Oh, not at all. I'm planning to kill you." With that, I took out a pocket knife from my jeans pocket and held the edge on his throat. And man, did he look surprised—it made me want to cackle up.
But his surprise didn't last long as he broke into fits of laughter. He removed his arms from my waist while laughing and I instantly missed his warmth. Something was definitely wrong with me.
"Hey, hey, careful, you will get your throat cut." I removed the knife a little bit away for his safety. Well, of course, I wasn't planning to kill him actually. If I did, I would have to stay on the run for the rest of my life.
But just think how I should have felt when my life was depending on someone's mere words and he was making a joke about me. Trust me, it felt awful. On top of that, I could never trust Dylan. He could do anything. He would be nice for a second, and the moment, he would have his gun on my forehead.
"You are so funny, Shirley." He managed to say between his laughter. "That's not how you hold a knife."
"Eh?" As soon as I let that out, the next few seconds went in a blur.
Dylan suddenly got up and kicked my foot, making me lose my balance, and snatched the knife from my hand with ease. He made me fall right into his chair. I was utterly shocked by his actions to react. Soon, I felt a sharp object underneath my chin, just where I had been cut a few days ago.
"That's how you hold a knife to someone's throat," he informed me from behind me. I gulped as he was standing behind the chair with a smirk dancing on his lips.
"Are you showing me how to murder someone? You sure are a bad company," I muttered nervously. He leaned closer to my ears while I shivered when his warm breath tickled on my skin.
"Nope. This is just a basic technique to catch your enemy off-guard. Although... your defenses had many flaws, this trick would work on anyone. So, try it next time if someone holds you hostage," Dylan instructed.
"Can you please remove the knife? It's quite dangerous, you see," I said, glancing down at it.
"Huh, why? I'm enjoying myself," he breathed out.
Oh, then hold me captive for as long as you want, the thought just arrived in my head out of nowhere.
What the fuck, Shirley? What was that thought right now? Fuck me, I reprimanded myself and got my thoughts right. I must be thirsting for some romance nowadays, that's why it was happening to me.
"Just remove the goddamn knife," I ordered, and Dylan let out a chuckle before releasing me.
"Phew." I wiped the imaginary sweat off my forehead dramatically. Well, that just got so violent all of sudden. "I will be grateful to you if you don't tell your men about the reason behind that bomb planting. I seriously think that they're going to murder me," I said, getting reminded of the real purpose of my assault.
"Very well then. As a sign of gratefulness, you can get off my chair." Dylan rolled his eyes. I scratched the back of my neck sheepishly and stood up, letting him sit back on his chair. "If you're done interrogating me, you can leave."
"So the conclusion is, you are useless," I grunted.
"Why is that?" Dylan asked in confusion.
I crossed my arms and huffed. "Because you couldn't find out who it was."
"Hmm, so even you don't know who it is. Interesting." I licked my lips as I looked at the way he said 'interesting'. I always found it so sexy. The way his lips moved when he said that word, there was some sort of other—
What the heck am I even thinking? Get hold of your thirsty thoughts, Shirley.
"Now say goodbye to me like a good girl and get the hell out of here," Dylan announced, snapping me out of my fallacy.
"Oh, okay. Good—" I got interrupted by my phone's ringtone. I immediately took it out and received the call.
I carefully listened to what the other person had to say. It was one of the interviewers from The Dreamweaver a. I just hummed in reply while I could feel Dylan's eyes on me the whole time.
"So, Ms. Shirley Hamilton, you're hired," the person concluded.
"Thank you so much, sir," I replied, trying my best to hold my excitement before hanging up the call.
I looked at Dylan. He had his cheek rested on his knuckles with a curious look on his face.
"I—I—" I couldn't form words in my mouth as I was overwhelmed with joy. The feeling of success felt so great, it made me paralyzed for a while.
"If you're going to say something, just spit it out."
"Yay!" I screamed and jumped up. Dylan flinched a little bit at my sudden burst of enthusiasm. I started jumping up and down with a victory fist.
"Yes, I'm hired. I got the job. Hell yeah!" I didn't care what Dylan thought of me at that moment. If he wanted to think I was a chimpanzee, so be it.
Dylan stood up from his chair and walked towards me. "Do you want me to call an ambulance for you?" he asked, worried that I had finally gone full unstable.
I didn't care about his sarcasm and just hugged him, startling him. "I'm so happy, Dylan!" I exclaimed, still jumping on my feet.
"That's good, I guess." Dylan gave me an awkward light pat on the back. I pulled away from the hug and got on the couch, starting to jump on.
Once my excitement died down, I looked at Dylan to find him at the same place as earlier with only his arms crossed over his chest, and he was staring at me.
"Is something wrong?" I asked hesitantly and got down from the couch.
"Yeah, something's definitely wrong with your head. But putting that aside, you looked kind of cute," Dylan mumbled in a trance, making heat rush to my cheeks. I covered my cheeks with my palms to feel them hot.
Dylan suddenly seemed to have snapped out of the trance. "Wait a minute, that—t-that ca-came out w-wrong. What I wanted to say was, you looked like a freaking lady chimpanzee," he quickly tried to correct himself. Unfortunately, I already knew he was lying. Because he was somewhat obvious. "Anyways, what was the reason behind your graceful dance?"
I pouted, getting slightly offended by his words. Then again that's just the way he was. He loved mocking me. "You won't believe me but I got hired as an assistant designer in the Dreamweavers," I exclaimed in delight.
"Oh, congrats then," he replied nonchalantly.
My smile dropped at his bluntness. "You could have said something more and with more enthusiasm," I muttered, being disappointed.
"Like what? I have never... I actually don't know how to congratulate someone with more than two words." I felt a bucket of cold water was flashed at me when his words hit me.
What was he? An anti-social? Or he never bothered congratulating people?
I tried to be understanding for once in my life. I took a deep breath and said, "When you congratulate someone, you can give them some praises. You should encourage them to do even better. You must show that you're happy for their success."
Dylan hummed in reply.
An evil idea popped into my mind. "You should also give them a present," I added.
"Huh? What sort of present?"
"Anything that would make that person happy." I suppressed my grin as Dylan thought for a while.
"Does that mean you want a gift?" He arched an eyebrow, and I frowned. How could he always see through me?
"That's optional." I sat on the chair in front of him again. He also sat back on his chair while chuckling.
"You really are something."
"Why is that?" I narrowed my eyes at him.
"You think I'm so dumb, right? I mean, people don't just give a gift randomly while congratulating someone unless it's their wedding or some big celebration. Everyone knows that, Shirley." I bit my tongue at my own stupidity. Of course, he would know that. "However, I might have something for you. It's not a present though," he spoke up all of a sudden.
Did I hear that right?
"Anything that would make that person happy, huh?" he repeated what I had said earlier and started rummaging through his desk's drawers. "It's not much but I think it could make you happy."
Little did he know that my heart was already leaping in joy just with his intention to make me happy.