*Isabella's POV*
Jacob walked straight up to me not long after I had left the big boss's office. "Hey, sweetheart," he greeted as I stood with my back to him, busy in the filing cupboard.
"Hell no," I replied.
"I didn't even get to say anything," he defended.
"Whatever it is, the answer is still no," I said, a sassy, confident smile playing on my lips. I turned my attention back to the filing cupboard.
"Well, aren't you something else. But I've got to remind you, I'm still your superior, so that means you can't just tell me to fu** off like that," he retorted.
"Fu** off. Those were your words, not mine," I countered.
"You don't even look me in the eye when you talk back to me," he said and walked closer. "Come on, Isabella. Look me in the eye and tell me, 'Jacob, sir, I've been thinking of your hands all over me this weekend.' Say it, Bella. Say, 'You make me hot in all the right places.'" He said confidently, mimicking my voice and causing me to turn and look at him in disgust.
"Not in a million years," I responded to his rather bold statement. "And also, my voice is not that squeaky. I can't believe you said that."
"And yet you smiled," he countered and winked at me. "You know, you kind of owe me lunch."
"Since when do I owe you lunch?" I asked, annoyed.
"I saved you on Friday. You were very close to doing something reckless," he replied, sounding rather cocky.
"You don't know that, Jacob," I retorted.
"Oh, so we are on a first-name basis now?" he pointed out.
"You call me Isabella, and I'll call you Jacob."
"So, if I call you doll, do I get to play with you?" he smirked, making me cringe at his cheesy pick-up line.
"Eew, that's so creepy!" I exclaimed, and he burst out in laughter. "You know, for someone who brags about coming from the city, you sure talk a lot of horsesh**," I added.
"Is that so?" he countered, making me roll my eyes. "So what if I call you doll or sweetheart? It's because I think you're pretty and sweet. Do I really deserve to be attacked like this?"
"Like I said, creepy as fu**," I countered and walked to my desk, where I continued to edit the spreadsheets.
Unfortunately, Jacob followed me to my desk. "Is that so, Miss. Williams?" his voice was now low, whispering in my ear.
It almost sounded exactly like Damien, except Jacob's had a playful tone to it. He didn't even have to touch me like he did at the club; his voice was doing enough. I closed my eyes for a second and let myself wander. This man is a fine specimen of a man. He is hot, powerful, and cocky enough to keep me on my toes. I could use company like his for a night or two. Like a rebound, if you will. I could, but I won't. If only the situation were different... but it's too risky, too complicated. I really don't think it would be worth it.
"Cat got your tongue, doll?" he whispered in my ear, pulling me away from my thoughts.
"I have a lot of work to do, Mr. Lancaster, and I can't focus with you here," I replied.
"Okay. You will treat me to lunch tomorrow," he said with a wink and walked away, leaving me feeling nervous.
*The next day*
During lunch, I was seated with Cole, and we were discussing our living situation. "Exercise at 6 AM always pumps me up," he said excitedly.
"Freak," I countered, and we both burst out laughing.
"Anyway, thanks for cleaning up the bathroom. It looks so... shiny," he added.
"Thank you for cleaning up after dinner last night," I responded, and we burst into another fit of laughter.
"You're really gonna miss me next week," I added.
"Why, are you going somewhere?"
"I already told you I'm going to NYC," I replied.
"I tend to drift off to sleep when you talk too much," he retorted.
"I can't believe you ditched me to eat in such a place," an annoyingly familiar voice spoke from behind me. Jacob.
"Mr. Lancaster, I—"
"No, I actually can't believe it. You have got to be kidding me," he said, his voice rising with anger and starting to draw attention to us.
"Mr. Lancaster, you are crossing the line," I retorted formally.
"My brother is crossing the line with this trash of a cafeteria, so I'm not crossing the line; I'm just using the line as a fu**ing jump rope," he countered, causing all eyes to be on us. All the voices stopped to listen to the smoking-hot vice president act like a spoiled high-school kid.
"Jacob, out!" I shouted.
"What!"
"Let's go!" I exclaimed and pulled him out of the cafeteria with me. I couldn't help but notice all eyes on me, all the voices whispering as I stormed out to go deal with the 30-year-old man-child.
"How old are you, Mr. Lancaster?" I shouted as soon as we were in the hallway.
"29," he responded nonchalantly.
"But you're acting like a foolish child and not as expected of the VP of a multi-million dollar company. You can't just trash-talk things in the midst of your subordinates' lunches. You defiled your brother's judgment and work!" I added angrily.
"Why can't you be more like him?" I added softly but instantly regretted it as I saw the change in Jacob's face. He sighed and took a deep breath. "Well, it's not like I haven't heard that before." He said sadly. "You know what? I'm gonna go have lunch in a nice place. Goodbye, Miss. Williams," he said in a cold tone.
I could see the hurt in his eyes as he left. It was as if my words had hit a sensitive spot, a nerve, if you will. And just like that, I felt guilty.
"Jacob, wait!" I shouted after him. He stopped and rolled his eyes. "Can I tag along?"