Chasing

Chasing 16



CHAPTER TWELVE

KIAN’S POV

I have been shamelessly and obsessively counting the days since Leslie left.

That’s why I don’t need to look at the calendar to know it’s been seven days. Leslie has been gone for an entire week with no single trace left behind for me to track. The Hotel that provided the footage of her with the stranger couldn’t get clearer footage making it hard to identify the stranger no matter how hard I tried.

Everyday since her disappearance has been an endless cycle of frustration for me and the people around me are the ones at the receiving end of my daily annoyance as I lash out at them at every chance I get.

I am past pretending to be fine and in control when I am slowly losing it with each day that passes without Leslie. ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

“Sir,”

A soft voice calls and snaps me out of my wandering thoughts. This isn’t the first time I’ll be zoning out especially when I am in an important meeting. My assistant has always managed to bring me back to order but this time, it’s the hazel–eyed woman sitting across from me in my office with an expectant look on her face that draws my attention back.

The woman is the twenty–third secretary I am interviewing to fill Leslie’s position for the first time in seven years. So far, it has gone pretty terribly. The last twenty–two applicants had stellar resumes, bright smiles and confident voices; all the traits a good secretary should possess yet there seems to be something they all lacked. Many times, I caught myself looking for a hint of Leslie in each one of them even when I don’t know what it really is. I haven’t found it and the harrowing process is starting to tire

  1. me.

It isn’t exactly what I am looking for but I notice that the twenty–third applicant seated in front of me has Leslie’s hazel eyes and yet it does nothing to lift this heavy burden my heart has carried since her absence.

“You can leave,” I say, dismissing her while rearranging the resumes on my table. There are still about twenty more applicants to interview but I see now how pointless it all is, how none of them compares to Leslie.

“But sir-”

Irritated, I slam my hand on the tower of resumes. She jumps out of her seat instantly and rushes out the door, closing it behind her. Once alone, I recline into my seat, trying to gather my thoughts, trying to sort through them and shove down the ones that convey the fears that I might never see Leslie again.

I am unable to shove this thought to the side, instead it pushes me to pick up my phone. I dial Leslie’s number for what seems like the hundredth time since her disappearance. All I get is the same automated voice saying the phone is switched off. I fight the urge to throw my phone across the room when I try again and I get the same voice telling me the same words over and over again.

“Where the hell are you, Leslie?”

I close my eyes and as always, I see her face behind my closed lids. She’s always there, as if haunting me and punishing me like her absence isn’t punishment enough.

I visualize her, seated in her small office that is just right outside mine, typing furiously into her computer. I see her standing, coming to me with a bunch of files that need my attention. I see her with a cup of coffee with a lot of milk and even more sugar because she knows how much I love sweet things. She makes the best coffee and Lnever have to order from the cafe across the company like every other worker at the company does.

I imagine her setting the coffee down with a smile on her face. I see what she’s wearing; a brown skirt with a high waist and small slit by the side with a cream colored shirt to match while her hair is packed into a tight bun with little tendrils of it falling on both sides of her face.


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