HIS STRIPPER, HIS WIFE novel Chapter 103

Chapter 103

Adrian

I didn’t even pause before typing my reply. “No, I’m not going to let you continue with that silly attitude. You don’t work for me anymore, so you will only refer to me by my first name. Whenever you decide to come back to working with me, you can go back to calling me sir, but for now, I’m Adrian to you.”

I sent it before I could second guess it, then set the phone down and picked up my glass, pretending I wasn’t watching the screen out of the corner of my eye.

A minute later it lit up again. “Sorry. Understood.”

I almost laughed at how formal that sounded, like she was replying to a memo at the office. “Good. Now that we’ve settled that, how is the new role treating you?” I sent it.

“It’s good so far,” she wrote. “Still learning where everything is. I got lost twice today looking for the supply closet.”

“That’s concerning. I expected better navigation skills from someone who used to run my entire schedule without missing a beat.”

“Running your schedule and finding a supply closet are two very different skill sets, sir.”

“Adrian.”

“Sorry. Adrian.”

The conversation stayed stiff after that for a while, short replies, careful pauses between messages like both of us were testing how much the conversation could hold before it broke.

I asked about the studio, she gave short answers about fabric samples and mood boards, nothing personal, nothing that was telling me as much as I wanted to. I could tell she was choosing her words carefully, the same way I was choosing mine, both of us circling around the whole thing.

Somewhere around the tenth message, the mood changed. She mentioned a woman named Mrs Gina who apparently talked too fast and moved even faster, and I found myself smiling at my phone like an idiot as she described trying to keep up with the tour on her first day.

“She sounds exhausting,” I wrote.

“She’s actually amazing, just a lot to take in at once.”

“Sounds like someone else I used to work with.”

“Are you comparing me to your creative director?”

“I’m saying you both apparently enjoy giving people no time to breathe.”

“That’s rich coming from you.”

I laughed out loud at that, actually laughed, alone in my study with nobody around to hear it. The conversation kept easing after that, question after question, small jokes slipping in between the more careful lines.

She told me about the fabric room and how one of the designers kept losing his brush, I told her about Felix rejecting every candidate complaint I threw at him all week, careful not to mention why none of them were good enough.

We were still on our toes the entire time, both of us skating around anything that sounded too much like missing each other, but underneath the careful wording, it was very obvious.

It went on longer than either of us probably meant it to, the messages slower and comfortable now. Then her replies started coming like someone who was now pleased with talking to me.

“I should sleep,” she wrote eventually. “Work begins tomorrow and I’m still easing into everything, I don’t want to be the one who shows up late on day three.”

“Go to sleep then. Don’t want you getting fired before you even settle in properly.”

somewhere.

I didn’t stop to watch it, I knew she would come find me eventually, she always did, so I walked straight past the little gathering and into my office. I sat down at my desk and tried to focus on the emails Felix had flagged as urgent, though my mind wasn’t really on any of it, I was just waiting.

It didn’t take long, maybe fifteen minutes later, the door opened without a knock, and she walked in like she owned the place, which, in fairness, she technically had a hand in building.

“Mom,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “What brings you here?”

“Nothing,” she said, glancing around the office like she was inspecting it for the first time, “I just wanted to get familiar with the place again. It’s been a while I’ve seen you and I just thought to come look at your new office.”

She sat down across from me, smoothing out her skirt, and started talking about something related to the last board meeting, some comment one of the directors made, nothing that actually needed to be said in person. I let her talk for a minute, watching her carefully, because I knew her well enough to know when she was stalling.

Eventually I got tired of pretending I didn’t notice. “Drop the act, Mom,” I said. “We could have discussed all of this on phone. You didn’t travel this far for this, so what actually brings you here?”

“You’re always smart,” she said, tilting her head slightly.

“Mom.”

She sighed, folding her hands in her lap, as her face changed into something more serious. “Victoria said…”

I felt my whole body tense before she even finished the sentence, my hand came flat on the desk without meaning for it to happen.

“Aghhh, not Victoria again!”