Chapter 8：Ask a Growling Dragon for Help. (2/2)

”I don't even want to hear about their huge-” Emily interrupted.

”Huge what?” a deep, velvet voice sounded over Emily's ear.

The girl twitched in surprise and nearly fell off the chair. ”W-what the hell, I mean, Mr. Evans, what are you doing here?” she exhaled, just in time to shut up the abuse that was coming off her lips.

”What are you doing here, Miss Hayes? It's ten in the evening, the work day is over,” Justin Evans answered her question with another question.

Emily turned off the phone, ignoring her friend's interest in the phone, and looked around the empty office, ”I finished late an article that was supposed to go to tomorrow's issue. Kat, I mean, Miss Catherine Joyce said that I could stay and finish it and then go home.”

In fact, Emily finished the article more than an hour ago and could have gone home already, but her office chair turned out to be so comfortable that the girl decided to indulge herself with a cup of coffee and, at the same time, chat with her best (hmm, really?) friend.

”Hmm, that's how it is. You were so passionate about your work that you didn't hear me calling you several times,” Mr. Evans nodded, laughing flashed in his eyes.

”I had an important call, sorry I didn't answer right away-” Emily's eyes widened in surprise. She didn't know what she looked like after a long day at work, but Justin Evans looked definitely worse, ”What's with your face?!”

”Oh, this?” Justin touched his bruised lower lip, which was caked with blood, ”One expressive person was offended that I did not agree to stay with her overnight. I said that I recently broke up with my fiancée and was not ready for a new relationship. I got that in return,” the man sighed heavily.

He looked like a battered puppy. Or pretended to be most likely. For a second, Emily had a desire to feel sorry for the man, which she ignored right away. That was stupid of you to hang around with expressive persons at night time! It serves you right!

”You need to treat the wound,” she said, showing concern. Fictitious. He was her boss, after all.

”Will you help?”

”I don't know where the first aid kit is,” the girl looked around, trying to guess where this saving box could be. All that remained was to find this box, hand Evans a plaster and go home with a clear conscience.

”I have one in my office,” the man suggested.

Yeah, right! I am not going to that place voluntarily the second time. Moreover, at ten o'clock in the evening!

Emily smiled politely, ”Well, Mr. Evans, it's far away. Your wound can open again. I'll ask Kat, she should be with the programmers in the next office. Will you wait?”

The girl turned around and walked briskly to the neighboring doors.

”Miss Hayes!” Evans recalled, ”I remembered. It looks like the first aid kit should be in that drawer over there,” he pointed to a large shelving with folders and drawers. There were ten of them.

Emily pushed the lowest one.

”Khem, try the fourth one from the bottom,” the man added and looked away.

The fourth one from the bottom, you are saying?

The dragon sleeping inside Emily opened one eye. The fourth drawer contained a first aid kit. What a good guess, Mr. Evans. You hit the spot right away, Sherlock Holmes.

”Well, how is it? Found what you need? I think the wound has opened again. I would appreciate it if you could help me take care of it.” The boss's worried voice made Emily smile. Justin Evans was lucky not to see that smile.

”Oh yes, I found it,” the girl answered with anticipation, twisting two antiseptics in her hand: one with alcohol, the other without. ”Of course I'll help.”

Emily put the non-alcoholic antiseptic back into the drawer, picked up the second, and walked over to the man.

Miss Hayes' inner dragon growled happily.