Chapter 8
A fter that car crash of an interview, the last thing I expected was a call from Donna hours later, congratulating me on my new job.
Questioning the hows and whys would be looking a gift horse in the mouth, and I may be blonde, but I’m not stupid.
Instead, I thanked her and told her I couldn’t wait to get started.
With instructions to meet with her at seven a.m. sharp on Monday, we hung up.
I then spent the weekend panicking over what to wear and ruined my new manicure by biting my nails.
By the time Monday crawled around, I was no less nervous, and as the intimidating high-rise office came into view, the reality that I’m about to be a sheep in the wolf’s den has me questioning if I shouldn’t run and hide before it’s too late.
Breath, Helen. Lift your chin, push your shoulders back, and smile.
Smoothing my hands down my navy pinstripe skirt and tugging at the matching jacket, I take a deep breath in.
It’s just a job. I can do this. I doubt I’ll even cross paths with any of the O’Neill’s themselves.
Angus would never be caught dead doing a day’s work, so I can’t see why other factions would be any different.
All mafia men are the same: entitled wankers, through and through—though maybe I should have picked the sensible black pantsuit just in case.
But alas, the urge to look my best and make a good impression on my first day won out.
Pushing open the heavy glass door, I’m immediately assaulted by the hustle and bustle.
While the streets outside might be filled with commuters, half asleep and guzzling down coffee, here, it’s like people have been awake for hours, and everyone is on a mission.
Getting a visitors pass, I make my way over to the bank of lifts as clipped conversations float around.
Following Donna’s instructions to meet with her first and get my new hire paperwork squared away has a fresh ball of nerves settling in my stomach.
No matter how often I hand over my falsified documents, the dread this will be the time I’m caught and my life implodes never lessens.
The fact she still hasn’t shared with me who I’ll be reporting to doesn’t help my rising anxiety.
Still, the general camaraderie I’ve witnessed so far has me excited to find out.
Everyone seems genuinely happy to be here, which speaks volumes.
Knocking on the open door to her office, I pop my head in with a smile.
“Nice and early. He’ll love that. Now, let’s get this paperwork sorted, shall we?” It’s a rhetorical question, so with a smile in place and hands folded in my lap, I don’t offer any comment as she shuffles some papers on her desk until she finds what she’s looking for.
“I trust you brought the hard copies of your qualifications with you?” she asks, quirking a brow at me.
“Here they are,” I offer, handing them over before wiping my sweaty palms on my skirt.
“Perfect. I’ll get these scanned onto the system and returned to you today.” Setting them to one side, she settles into her chair before launching into the typical new hire speech. Wrapping up her information overload, she lets out a laugh at the lost look on my face.
“Don’t worry. If you have any questions, you can send me an email.
Now, let’s show you to your desk and introduce you to everyone.
” As I follow her through the busy office space, it’s clear that in the time we’ve been doing my induction, morning chatter has settled into something distinctly more work focused.
Hardly anyone looks up as Donna strides past with me in her wake, and I can already tell I’m going to fit right in.
There’s nothing worse than an office full of slackers who rush to look busy when management appears.
“If you’ll recall from the ad, you’ll be reporting directly to our CEO.
He can be a bit of a hard ass, but he’ll warm up to you as long as you keep on top of your duties.
Pay attention to how he likes things done, and you’ll be fine.
And the best perk about reporting to him is, this is your office,” she explains, leading me into a glass office before I can even clarify that, no, I did not know that.
Any word of protest is stolen from me as I take in my new space.
It screams pure luxury, and having my own separate office, albeit with a connecting door to my boss’, feels like a massive leap up the corporate ladder.
It sure as hell doesn’t hurt that, as the door closes behind me, the noise from outside gets muffled. Pure and utter bliss.
Setting my bag on the desk, I take in the open space with visions of leaving my stamp on this place.
With three glass walls, the lighting is fantastic and offsets the dark grey of the fourth wall perfectly.
Before I can get lost in my head, Donna makes her way over to the solid oak door connecting my office to my new boss’.
She raps her knuckles against it before entering a code and pushing it open, indicating that I should follow her.
As my eyes lock on that head of dark hair, five o’clock shadow, and dark expression, I know I am utterly screwed.
His presence fills the room just as efficiently as his cologne, blanketing it in a dark cloud of barely-contained emotions as he lounges in his chair like a king on his throne.
Of course, the asshole from my interview is the damn CEO.
Cold dread creeps in as the implications of who I’m staring at sink in.
Jonathan O’Neill . Heir to the Four Points.
The need to keep my identity a secret has never been more urgent. The storm brewing in his eyes has me shuffling my weight from foot to foot, trying not to wince at the dull throbbing already starting to kick in. I knew I should have stuck to flats.
“Jonathan, you remember Helen, your new EA. Helen, this is our fearless leader. I’ll leave you two to get settled.
Someone from IT will be down shortly to get Helen all set up.
Jonathan, play nice.” With that warning, she leaves me to the wolves with little more than a pat on the shoulder as she strides away like a woman on a mission.
Her ability to walk so effortlessly in heels that high truly is an accomplishment. I wonder if she could give me pointers.
“I don’t have time to baby you, so keep up.
Any questions, don’t ask me unless you’ve exhausted all options.
Once IT gets you set up, check your emails.
Your to do list is there.” Disdain drips from each word, and the dismissal is clear even before he drops his eyes back to his computer, waving me away.
So, this is how it’s going to be? Fine.
If he thinks he can intimidate me, he’s got another thing coming.
I didn’t survive eighteen years in the Clan under Angus’ rule and two years on the run by being weak or spineless. Time to show Mr CEO just who he hired.
Game, set, match.