Chapter 7
Oliver Ferraz
I arrive at the company only to be greeted in the strangest way: some crazy woman comes running, trips, and lands right in my arms. Where did this creature come from?! If I hadn’t caught her by the waist, she would have splattered on the ground like a ripe jackfruit.
And the worst part: she gives me a dirty look, as if it were my fault.
Unbelievable. I only pointed it out so she wouldn’t do it again, but when our eyes met, I felt something I shouldn’t have.
Blonde hair, fair skin with delicate freckles, green eyes that seem to see too much, and those full lips…
damn. My body responded before my mind could catch up.
I took a deep breath, suppressed the instinct, and let her go without another word.
What am I thinking? I just got cheated on and I’m already thinking about another woman. Madness.
I enter the hotel and greet the reception staff. Once I give my name, I’m cleared to head up. On the executive floor, I find my father’s office with the door open. I knock twice and walk in.
“My son, what a pleasure to have you here.” His face breaks into a wide smile as he comes to hug me. “Hi, Dad. You can’t imagine how long I’ve waited for this moment. I really want to take over the company, to continue what you’ve built.” I say with complete sincerity.
“Your mother and I are so proud. Come, I’ll show you the office. I’ll stay by your side for a few days. If necessary, of course!”
I look around, satisfied, then ask: “So I won’t have an office of my own?” “No, Oliver. I’ll hardly be here—I’ll only come when something urgent comes up. I don’t see a problem with sharing.” “Of course not, Dad,” I respond, hiding the fact that I definitely wanted an office to myself.
My father glances at his watch and mentions the secretary. “Strange that she hasn’t arrived yet—she’s always punctual.” He goes to the door to check.
Meanwhile, I walk to the window and gaze at our resort down below. Imposing, luxurious—a project that took real effort, but one that makes me proud. Then I hear footsteps and a melodious voice. I turn around and nearly lose my breath.
It can’t be. The clumsy woman from the entrance. Could she be my secretary?!
My father makes the introductions, confirming my suspicion, and she comes across as composed, though I notice she was flustered for a moment when she saw me. Still, we both act like nothing happened. I won’t say anything now, but soon I’ll remind her of our little encounter.
Alice fetches coffee for me and my father—always helpful—and we go over the day’s messages.
When I check my watch, it’s already time to head to the shareholders’ meeting.
There are eight of us in total, and I know some of the looks will be hostile, especially from Andrea’s father.
Andrea is my ex-fiancée. He’s sitting almost next to me, and the resentment is visible on his face.
I decide to ignore him. This is my professional environment, and I’m not going to mix my personal life with business.
As a welcome gesture, there was a lunch. Alice organized everything beautifully—a delicious menu that catered to everyone’s tastes. Point for her. I scan the room for her but don’t see her. I finish eating since we’ll be starting our meeting soon.
Everything was wonderful, but now we needed to talk business—and as if reading my thoughts, she enters the room again with her tablet in hand. And so we begin.
After the meeting ends, I return to my office. The hallway is silent, but I hear hurried footsteps. I wait a few seconds, open the door, and call out: “Miss Alice, come to my office.”
She appears almost breathless but holds herself with composure. “Of course, sir.”
I cross my arms, sizing her up. “Well, miss, get ready. In fifteen minutes we leave for the resort tour. My father spoke very highly of you, so I hope you won’t disappoint me. Unlike him, I’m not a nice guy. I like things done right and on time. Let’s see if you can keep up with my pace.”
She raises her chin defiantly and responds: “I’m here to serve you to the best of my ability. I’ll get organized so we can leave as quickly as possible.”
The instant she turns to leave my office, I provoke her by bringing up our fateful first encounter that day.
She shoots me a look mixing indignation and irony but maintains her composure. I can hear her grumbling as she walks away, and it draws an involuntary smile from me. Stubborn.
When I step out, she’s already standing by her desk waiting for me, smiling as if nothing had happened. I return the smile, curious about her dual personality: irritated on the inside, professional on the outside. Interesting. I smile again.
She presses the elevator button, and as soon as it arrives, we step into the cold metal box—as cold as her expression right now.
“Where do you suggest we start?” I ask, trying to break the ice a little.
“At reception, sir. I asked HR to gather the department managers. It’ll be more efficient that way.
” “I’d rather it be done right than rushed.
”“I agree. I’ve organized the schedule over two unhurried days.
You’ll have time to get familiar with each department at your own pace.
” “Are you always this organized?” I ask, teasing her.
“I have to be. As executive secretary, I need to stay on top of everything. It’s the only way I can truly help and always give my best.” “You know all the contracts?” I ask, intrigued.
“Employees, suppliers, yes. I sit in on interviews and promotions, and I’m the one who drafts the partner contracts.
” “How do you manage it all?” “I skip most meetings. That gives me time to handle the rest.”
I go quiet for a moment. This woman surprises me with every response. She’s not just beautiful—she’s competent and intelligent.
We arrive at reception, and Alice starts introducing the managers. We spend the afternoon visiting departments, and I notice the schedule really was well thought out. Even so, we don’t finish everything.
“We’ll continue tomorrow,” I announce. “I don’t want to miss any details.”
She nods seriously and says goodbye before heading out.
I stay a while longer, reviewing contracts. But amid the lines and clauses, her image keeps invading my thoughts: those green eyes, that firm voice, that defiant attitude. I bite my lip, irritated with myself. I shouldn’t be thinking about this. Not now. Not after what I’ve been through.
But denying it gets harder by the minute. Yes, that girl is getting to me.