Page 142 of Embriagado

What a buffoon.

“Oh, for God’s sake.” I rubbed my temples.

“Don’t worry, boss. You don’t need to ask twice.” He switched the lock. “I’m all but willing to follow orders.”

“Save me from your words. I wanted the door closed because of the music coming from the hallway, only you’re an even bigger disturbance.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he cut in, walking toward my desk. “Just admit you wanted some alone time with me.” He winked, and so help me God, it took everything in me not to shoot him in the face.

After sitting down in my chair, I eyed him. Unfortunately, he looked good tonight, with his wild hair pulled into a half bun and his name tag on the right side for a change, meaning I couldn’t scold him. Still, that didn’t explain why he was currently here, wasting the air in my office.

“Why are you here?”

“To annoy you, why else?”

What a juvenile answer, one not worthy of a response. Clearly, my showing him a bit of patience lately led him to mistake it for affection, which explained this unwanted visit. But then again, I was to blame for that. Last week, when he lied about having a shift tonight, I should have told him he didn’t. Instead, I played along. I still couldn’t say what led me to such a reckless decision, but whatever it was, enough was enough.

Without looking at him and while ignoring the sounds of his breathing, I opened my laptop. Hopefully, this excuse of a man would get the message and leave⁠—

My brows drew together as I seized the small fox keychain he placed on the keyboard.

“Merry Christmas,” he said.

“What the hell is that?” I scoffed.

“A Christmas present.”

Confused and slightly repelled, I glared at him. “A what now?”

Undeterred by the hostility in my voice, Mr. Rivas smiled at me, and that stupid smile was nothing but warm.

This idiot.

“A Christmas present.” Reaching down, he grabbed the keychain and held it before me. “It’s cute, isn’t it?”

My eyes narrowed because why on earth would I think this cheap plastic was cute? Unlike me, Mr. Rivas seemed rather charmed as he continued toying with the keychain.

“Why would you buy such a thing?”

Finally looking away from the keychain, he stared at me. “What do you mean? It’s you.”

My whole face scrunched up. “Excuse me?”

“It’s a little fox,” he said in Spanish while shoving that damn thing in my face again.

But more importantly⁠—

“Did you say… Zorrito?” The corner of my mouth twitched as I uttered the word, or dare I say, nickname?

But instead of owning up to his mistake and apologizing, he chuckled. The deep, guttural sound got on my nerves at the same time it made my stomach twist into a tight knot.

Furious at this reaction, which had been a recurring issue lately, I bit my lip and glared at the keychain before shoving Mr. Rivas’s hand out of my way. As a result, the damn thing fell to the floor.

“Don’t,” I hissed as he moved to pick it up.

“But—”

“I’ll toss it into the garbage later anyway.”