To Color Your Life

"Are you leaving already?" a question in the back made Denver stop. He turned and saw Arthur Pitcher.

"Why are you here?" Christian asked the man. The founder of the publishing house was standing in the corridor, leaning against the wall, instead of being in the hall and congratulating his grandson on the excellent delivery of the project. His grandson and future daughter-in-law...

"I am already old for such noisy meetings. Business is over, so I can go home. But why are you in such a hurry, Christian? Or maybe you are running from something?"

Denver could hardly contain himself not to frown. This old man was always very perspicacious.

Pitcher pushed off the wall, walked over to the man, and patted him on the shoulder encouragingly. "Everything will be fine, my boy. I'm proud of you. I am confident that Pharaoh will remain in good hands. And I am glad that you allowed yourself to show weakness and at least once listen to your heart, and not your mind."

"I don't know what you mean, Mr. Pitcher," Christian averted his gaze so as not to look the man in the eye. The man's sincere concern and goodwill were too much of a contrast for Denver compared to the relationship in his family. If the circle of his relatives could be called a family at all. "There are enough worthy people in Pharaoh who wish success to the common goal."

"Right, right," Arthur grinned. "Our girl also wants to become an active participant in this process."

"Miss Hayes has all the qualities for this," Chris agreed.

"What makes you think I'm talking about Emily? I meant Zoya."

Damn. Denver pursed his lips. His first thought was about a completely different girl. More precisely, all his thoughts were only about her.

But how could he forget about this relative of Evans with a shell in her head? How old is she now? Eighteen years old? Hmm, probably even more.

They have not seen each other for a long time, and he would prefer not to see her ever again. She has always given him too much of a headache.

"She asked about you," Pitcher continued, meanwhile, carefully observing the reaction of his interlocutor, "She asked me to say hi to you."

Christian nodded. She is definitely not getting any hello back from him.

"By the way, Zoya should be back in a couple of weeks. Invite her to dinner, tell her how things are at the publishing house. Or just have a friendly chat with her or something. She will be very happy. You know how she treats you."

"Mr. Pitcher!" Denver interrupted him more sharply than he would like, "Sorry," the man sighed, "I respect you very much, and I sincerely believe that you are not one of those people who will try to set a granddaughter up with a man who is not interested in her."

"Then you think too highly of me, Christian," Arthur chuckled derisively.

"We have a big age difference, different interests and outlook on life. Please do not bring this up again. Her childhood crush has nothing to do with real feelings and relationships."

"Real feelings? Like the ones, you are having now?" Pitcher's direct question was like a bullet - shot through Christian's chest with sharp pain, from which the whole body was numb.

Arthur approached him, his face was calm, hidden sadness was in his eyes, "Listen to me, boy. Not every love ends in happiness. Some are best uprooted, like a weed that can stifle all other plants blooming in the garden. And the sooner the better. I know what I'm talking about. I went through it myself."

Weed? Christian chuckled. What an irony. It was the softest definition he had ever heard of himself from his father. So in his case, the weed is almost a compliment.

He glanced coldly at the wise man. He respected Pitcher and was grateful to him, but not enough to let him go where he swore not to let anyone. At least until then, no one succeeded. Except for one naive dragon.

"You think too much of me, Arthur," he repeated Pitcher's words from earlier, "Someone may have a blooming garden, but I have a dry, cracked, sun-scorched land. Therefore, if only one weed could sprout there...," Christian was silent for a moment, his lips quivered in a sad smile, "I see no reason to pull out what sooner or later will still have to wither and burn in the sun. Even if it's a lonely, unwanted thorn."

He nodded, letting Mr. Pitcher know that their conversation was over, and walked away.

Arthur followed him with a thoughtful look. "Oh, Christian. Tumbleweed is also a thorn, but it is able to cross the entire desert and reach the oasis. But your thorn is really better off dry."

Better for all of them.

.   

After the words of congratulations, the shareholders scattered about their business. Only the members of the Pharaoh magazine team remained in the festively decorated hall.

The joy of victory was replaced by inspiration and anticipation of the work ahead.

"Ahh, I can't believe it! Two million users! It's a bomb!" Kelly screamed with happiness, like a little girl who was given a real unicorn, "Emy! My Emy is the best! I knew it!" she hung on Hayes's shoulders, grabbing her friend in a strong arm.

"Ahaha, Kelly! Enough! We all deserve it." Emily kissed Ohara on the cheek.

For the last twenty minutes, all she did was smile. And to such an extent that her cheeks ached.

"Where is Justin? Where has he gone?"

"Boss?" Kelly looked around. "Who knows, who knows," she said in a conspiratorial tone. "So, give me a minute. We need to fix your hair. Damn, the lipstick has worn off a little. Although, okay, it will do."

"What are you fussing about?" Emily dismissed her friend like the annoying brood hen that was bustling around her as if Emily was a little chick.

The light music playing in the hall fell silent. All the team members stepped back a few steps from Emily, leaving the girl standing in the center of the room.

"What's happening?" Instead of answering the question, she received only cunning smiles from her colleagues. Something was clearly going on and everyone knew except her!

And where the hell was the boss?! Wait, now she's the boss... Where's Evans?!

The doors of the hall swung open and he entered the room.

Emily's heart beat in her chest as if they had first met on the doorstep of the publishing house. Only this time she was filled with love, tenderness and admiration.

Justin swapped jeans for a formal suit. Black hair was pulled back. The gray tie perfectly matched the color of his eyes, which were reminiscent of thunderclouds.

"Miss Hayes," he said in a serious tone and stopped a step away from Emily.

"Yes, Mr. Evans?" a smile spread itself over her face.

What a gorgeous man! And he is completely hers? Hayes, you had definitely saved the nation in your previous life!

"On behalf of the Pharaoh magazine team and on behalf of me personally, thank you for your trust and support. I hope that working in your new position will bring you as much pleasure as I feel when I pass this on to you."

"What is it?" Emily glanced at the bunch of keys Justin handed her.

"These are the keys to my office and every secret locker in it," he winked, "Now they are yours, boss."

The magazine staff in the hall clapped and shouted congratulations.

"Thanks," Emily whispered, trying not to cry. With this kind of support, no challenge is scary.

Evans looked at her with such pride that the girl felt that she was able to move not only mountains but also continents if he was near.

"But this..."

Everyone around them instantly fell silent as Justin knelt down in front of Emily.

He pulled a small velvet box out of his inner jacket pocket and opened it.

"And this is the key to my heart." He handed her a box containing a wedding ring.

Oh God...

Emily forgot how to breathe.

"Emily," Justin's voice had slight hoarseness, betraying the man's excitement, "I want to wake up in the morning with your hair tickling my nose. You are the best pizza maker, even when you just reheat it in the microwave.

I'll buy all the cocoa in the city ​​so you don't have to worry about what to drink before bed for the rest of your life. I will learn the secret recipe for your favorite coffee and will treat you to it every morning.

I will do everything to make you happy. Happy next to me."

Tears slowly ran down her cheeks, moisture froze in the man's eyes too.

"Emily Hayes, I love you. Will you marry me?" Justin asked. The fingers holding the ring box trembled slightly.

Emily bit her lips and nodded quickly. "Yes."

Justin brushed away a tear in the corner of his eye. "Thank you."

The man pulled out the ring, tenderly took the girl's hand outstretched to him, and put the ring on her finger.

He kissed her hand, got up, and in one swift movement he grabbed her in his arms.

Numerous bangs were heard throughout the hall, and a shower of golden confetti covered the couple. Cheerful music filled the room, along with laughter. People whistled, shouted, and rejoiced even more than when they found out that their project would continue its work.

"I love you, my dragon queen," Justin whispered, kissing the girl.

"And I love you, my shameless boss," Emily smiled back.

"Hey, sweet couple, look at the camera," Catherine was circling around them with the camera, "God, Evans, put her down already! She's not going anywhere!"

Justin reluctantly lowered Emily to her feet but did not let go of her.

"God, you're so possessive," Joyce grumbled, shaking her head, "By the way, why didn't Jacob show up for the meeting?"

"Mel started having labor, he took her to the hospital," Justin waved off and reached for his fiancee's lips again.

"She's having labor?! Why didn't you tell me?" Emily dodged the man and his lips brushed her cheek.

Justin grunted with slight annoyance but took out his phone from his pocket. "Oh, talk of the devil," just at that moment a message came from his brother.

Evans' lips stretched out from ear to ear, "Congratulate me, five minutes ago I became an uncle."

The girls squealed happily and hung around each other's necks.

"Hey, and who will hug me?" said the former boss, pouting.

Emily turned to Justin and gave him a light kiss on the cheek. "Congratulations!"

"My mother told me, beware of beautiful girls. I got down on one knee and gave her the ring, and she gave me a kiss on the cheek only! Do you treat your fiancé like that because he is just the first comer?"

Emily laughed, remembering their first conversation. Who would have thought then that her threat to her grandmother would come true with such precision?

"You're the best first comer I could have ever met, Justin Evans."

The man wrapped his arms around the girl's waist and pulled her to him, "First, last and only, Emily Hayes." He bit her lips with a passionate kiss, ignoring the crowd of people that surrounded them.

Shameless first comer.

First, last and only.