There was a partial shift in adjustment on the seat – his seat – swiveling gently from side to side, keeping herself very comfortably planted still. After all it didn’t seem as though there’d been any objection to the fact, not that it would’ve exactly mattered. As far as any outwardly appearance goes at least. One that, for a beat she allowed her own eyes to inspect with a subtle, or maybe not so much, consideration for the first time in quite a while, head canting towards the right.
That is until, she spotted movements in stride coming closer, snapping her vision back upwards to meet his gaze for a mere instance as it shifted over to the bouquet, now being held out for her to take. The gesture, coupled with his words caused the wicked curvature of her lips to falter slightly. Opening a slivered crack in her resolve she’d been otherwise able to cling to with a white-knuckled grip born from the spitefulness that brought her here in the first place. Except she hadn’t expected to be met with the haunting déjà vu of a moment that could be recounted many times, formerly bringing about feelings of adoration. Now leaving her warily unsettled, more so by the sudden thump in her chest, she vied heavily to ignore.
Willing a self-assured smile back to her features, Esme took the flowers, clearly knowing well they couldn’t have been for her to begin with, airy chuckle billows out both humorous and not. ❝ Still ever the charmer – teşekkür ederim hayatım. ❞ The nickname rolled off her tongue with a sharp lilt among softly spoken Turkish. Whether she would actually bother to keep the truthfully stunning arrangement, or perhaps toss them upon her exit, was yet to be determined.
A brief pause as she sat back in the chair, laying the bouquet across her lap lightly. ❝ I would ask how you’ve been, but — ❞ Would she even grant him the courtesy ? Even when behind shields of fire and ice was a budding curiosity. ❝ It seems I already have my answer. ❞ Motioning to the office around them then. ❝ Chief operating officer of Blackwood Industries, vay, vay, vay… congratulations are in order. ❞ Though she wouldn’t explicitly give them herself. ❝ Suppose I can see why you didn’t stick around for long after your previous position. ❞
He couldn’t quite help it — as he watched her take the flowers with the sort of ease and shamelessness that befitted a queen accepting what was rightfully hers, the corners of Saint’s lips twitched, smile threatening to widen even further. And while it wasn’t usually something he held back, this particular smile was tinged with the sort of fondness that he had never really been able to afford. Lest of all in the presence of the woman he’d left him in the dust without much of an explanation. Their time together had erased all former misconceptions about Esmeray Koç — she was a snake in sheep’s clothing.
But that had brought about feelings of adoration rather than caution.
Saint was unbothered by her words, following her motions at their surroundings. If he had heard the bitterness hidden underneath, he gave no such indication.
“Congratulations are overrated, güzelim.” Saint shrugged, leaning back against the front of his desk. “Though I have my own misgivings about this place.” His gaze met hers, steady and unrelenting, and he lowered his voice, as if making a confession instead of speaking about employment history. And maybe he was. “My old position — there are things I can’t help but miss about it.”
