3.
I had managed to survive my first week as a personal assistant to the devil. Barely.
As a boss, he was pretty hands off. Ophelia had arranged and set up everything so I didn't have to do much administration work.
Plus, she brought her work laptop in order to make sure things were updated from afar.
All I had to do was get his coffees, give him run downs, take notes during meetings and make sure he ate.
I could appreciate someone that works just as hard as me, but this man took it to a new level.
He was never late. Not even by a second.
His schedule was rigid and he never missed a meeting or a call.
I never even saw this man leave his office to go to the washroom.
All he did was drink coffee, work and brood in his office.
Every day, I made sure to bring him something back from Silva's cafe.
I didn't know what he liked to eat, but I assumed he wasn't picky from the mere fact that Ophelia never gave me a list on what he ate or not so I brought him the daily special with a little pastry as a treat.
How could you not have dessert after every meal? It was almost insane not to.
I didn't know whether he ate what I brought or not. As soon as I would arrive back to the office, I would knock on his door, wait for his response, place the paper bag on his desk, wait a few seconds for a thank you, which I never got once, and then leave.
I tried to avoid him as much as possible. Partly, because I didn't want to ruin Ophelia and I's cover and partly, because my body physically became irresponsible around him.
Within a week, I had managed to trip at least four times, not counting the ones that weren't within his presence. On Wednesday, I had dropped his 8:58 am coffee on his desk, ruining all his papers. Safe to say, he was particularly not happy with me that day.
Initially, I thought he most likely wasn't a morning person, but after spending a week with him, and barely at that, I could tell he just wasn't well-mannered. I'd never met a person so grumpy and rude, in my entire life. One day, he'll meet his match as my mother used to say.
As for myself, I was exhausted. I don't know how people lived a double life.
It had only been one week but I felt drained.
Between both jobs and school, I barely managed time to take care of myself.
I barely ate or slept. I was never home.
Hell, the only form of self-care at this rate was me showering and doing my hair and skincare.
All this culminated into me getting sick. It wasn't a new thing for me. Every year, as fall started, I got sick so I knew what to expect, but it didn't stop me from feeling like I got run over by a tractor.
I must have looked really bad because Kyle took one look at me and told me to go home.
Despite me whining and insisting that I was already there, he gave me one hard look after I nearly sneezed on him.
After that, I went back home and tried to get some rest so I could hopefully bounce back by tomorrow.
As I watched Gilmore Girls, I could feel my heart rate slowing down and my eyes fighting a battle they knew they would lose.
Two loud knocks rung throughout the apartment.
It must be for the neighbor. After all, I never had guests other than Ophelia and she had a key.
I tried to ignore the knock, when the sound came again.
I pushed, myself, slowly off the couch and lazily walked towards the door. I opened the door and found myself puzzled, as I stared at the man in front of me with his hand still raised in the air, ready to knock on my door.
"Why aren't you answering your phone?", he asked. His voice was smooth and rough, as if he hadn't spoken in a couple days. His whiskey colored eyes ran over my face with a pinched expression, eyebrows furrowed tightly like usual.
"Huh?"
What was he doing here? How does he know where I live? Am I dreaming?
I knew I was attracted to him. I didn't think my level of attraction was so strong I'd be dreaming of him.
"Do I need to remind you that my company pays your phone? Or, that you are my assistant. When I call you, you answer. If I ask you to jump, you say "how high?". Are we clear?", he said, putting extra emphasis on his last question.
He spoke so slowly and calmly that you wouldn't be able to tell how truly mad he was if it wasn't for the fire burning in his eyes.
Clearly, I had a death wish because I was still very confused and instead of rolling with the punches, I felt myself poke a finger at his chest as I stepped out of my doorway into the hallway.
"First of all, who the hell do you think you are?
I am not some damn dog that you can just order around.
Second, how do you know where I live? Are you stalking me?
", I asked. After every question, I felt my finger stab his chest as I continued to walk forward.
While it looked hard, the muscle was entirely relaxed and soft under my finger.
It didn't take me long to realize he had never budged despite my finger pushing him with all my might and that we were inches away from our bodies touching.
My finger was still on his chest and ours met in a blaze, trying to see which fire would burn out first. I, also, realized that I was, in fact, talking to my hypothetical boss.
Oh fuck, me.
"I'll pass.", he voiced out. The amber in his eyes melted into something I didn't know how to decipher.
Shock rolled through me. I took a step back as I brought my hands to my mouth and looked back at him in shock and horror. Mostly, horror.
"I am so sorry. Please don't fire me. I didn't mean what I said."
"Which part? The one about me stalking you or wanting me to fuck you?", he asked, talking a step forward.
This was bad. Ophelia was going to lose her job because I couldn't keep my attitude in check. Shit.
"All of it, sir. I am really sorry. I just had a bad day and I took it out on you. I am so sorry.", I repeated, hoping the little white lie would make him pity me and excuse my outburst.
"Interesting. Never took you for one that would make excuses for their behavior, Miss. Merile."
Another step forward for him. Another step backward for me.
It's as if he could command any room he walked into.
I've seen it in meetings. As soon as he walked in, he had control of everyone and could choke a light atmosphere with just one word.
I didn't think his command of control could effect me without any words.
His eyes were wicked with a flicker of something I had never seen in the office before.
I felt paralyzed under his stare. All I could do was look back.
I stood there as he stepped forward, unmoving.
His eyes left mine briefly as he reached out and twirled one of the curls hanging loose out of my bun.
When he placed the curl behind my ear, he looked back at me and dropped his hand back to his side.
There was no emotion in his eyes. There was no anger, fury or the emotion I couldn't pinpoint. Just blank whiskey eyes. à
"Why aren't you answering your phone?"
Oh, this. I felt myself take a little step back from him. If I stayed in his presence any longer, I would most likely end up fainting.
"It died."
"You don't know how to charge your phone?", he raised his eyebrow inquisitively as he put his hands in his pant pockets.
I noticed then just how jaw dropping he looked.
He always wore suits to work. Sometimes, with a tie and others without.
When he didn't wear one, I found myself imaging what else was hiding under that shirt to which you could easily find out by undoing a couple more buttons.
Yet, when he did wear one I pictured myself pulling on his tie softly, bringing his face closer to mine. He left much to the imagination.
Tonight, he wore a full on tuxedo complete with a black bowtie. As usual, his outfit was entirely black. The slim-fit suit contoured the sharp features of his hard body making my mind scatter.
"You look... Um, why are you here?", I asked.
For a splinter of a second, I saw shock overcome his face before he replaced it with his usual scowl. Maybe he was shocked at the fact that I didn't answer him with a snotty response.
"You weren't answering your phone. We have an event. Go, get ready."
Unmoving, I asked. "How do you know where I live?"
"Your file.", he replied almost as if he was already bored of this conversation.
Ophelia and I lived together for a couple years before she moved out a couple months ago. I guess she hadn't alerted the human resource department at her company of her new address.
"Oh, okay. Come in."
I don't know why I invited him in considering he was already passed the doorway. He shut the door lightly behind him and followed me as I walked towards the living room.
I was internally grateful to my morning self for cleaning up a bit. My books that were usually scattered on the kitchen table were organized neatly on my desk. The dishes were placed and the couch covers weren't strewn every which way.
Normally, I would have argued that I was technically off the clock and therefore did not have to go to this stupid event with him. However, I was too sick to argue and this was not my job to lose. So, if I had to go to this event to keep Ophelia employed, I would.
Before she left, she brought loads of emergency event dresses. She insisted that Mr. Morrenti's attendance at these events were rare. However, sometimes he would go to conduct business. I quickly showered, slicked back my hair into what I hoped was a cute wispy bun and did light makeup.
I took the first emergency dress and slipped it on, shivering slightly at the chill of the black silk on my skin.
Walking out of my bedroom, I called out to Mr. Morrenti as I put the stiletto heels on.
When I stood fully from my half crouching position, I saw him sitting on the couch.
His arms were spread out on the back of the couch and his longs legs were lazily spread open in front of him.
He lifted his head from staring at the ceiling and analyzed me from head to toe.
The look in his eyes almost calculating as he gazed washed over my entire body.
I felt my knees nearly buckle to the ground as he looked into my eyes.
"Finally.", he said. The void look in his eyes returned as he stood up and walked in the direction of the door.
"I didn't even take that long.", I grumbled as I followed behind him. The sound of my heels the only noise made between us for a while.
Despite Mr. Morrenti's whining that we were late to the event because of me, we arrived on time.
I tried to stand carefully behind him whilst he talked to certain people.
I wasn't his date. I was his assistant so I was under the impression that unless he gave me the signal, I should give him his space. He had other ideas.
Each time, he would turn slightly towards me and bring his hand to my back, pushing me slightly forward to stand next to him. He would pin me with a stare as to say not to move, before removing his hand from my back.
The dress I was wearing had an open back and if he ended up touching my skin one more time tonight, I'm afraid of what would happen. So, I decided to stand next to him. He didn't touch or reach for me again and I found myself wanting to step back just so that he would.
The event was quite boring. No one tried to speak to me as soon as they found out that I wasn't his date but in fact his assistant.
I couldn't necessarily blame them, especially the woman.
It was pretty funny seeing how many woman were imagining ways to kill me and suddenly became nice when they saw I wasn't competition.
When we finally sat down to eat, we didn't talk.
We ate in silence. I didn't mind the silence.
It was his presence that was unnerving. Every atom in my body was conscious of every little thing he did.
The way his hands gripped his cutlery, or the way his throat moved when he swallowed his rum and coke, or the way the left side of his mouth tipped up into a smirk.
Desert was served and I noticed he didn't even move to touch his fork.
"You should taste. It is so good.", I said as I widened my eyes for emphasis while pointing to the slice of cake with my fork.
He turned his head to face me, looking into my eyes as if I'm crazy.
I watched, nearly choking, as his eyes fluttered to my lips before meeting my eyes once more.
A small smirk tugged at his lips. His left hand reached up and swiped my bottom lip with his thumb.
My breathing slightly quickened when he licked his the vanilla frosting off his thumb.
"You're right."
My grip on the fork loosened, causing it to fall and clatter loudly against the plate. I looked away from his paralyzing stare and looked at the other around the table apologetically. I felt my ears and cheeks redden. I wished I had worn my hair down.
Using the cloth napkin resting on my thighs, I gently dabbed my lips and placed it on the table. I quickly excused myself from the table, incoherently mumbling that I had to use the ladies room.
I felt the weight of his eyes until I entered the restroom.
I walked to one of the mirrors, balancing myself on the sink.
I looked horrible. The makeup did wonders to hide how sick I really was, but if you looked closely enough you could see the way the tip of my nose was rough and red from the constant friction of a tissue or how dull and tired my eyes were.
The only thing adding a little liveliness to my face was the blush Mr. Morrenti gave me.
A light pink dusted my cheeks, slowly creeping towards my neck and at that moment, I wished I could splash my face with cold water.
It wasn't necessarily that I was interested in him, just that physically he was beautiful. I needed to pull myself together and control my reactions because someone like him would never want someone like me. I'm no where near his level.
Also, I'm supposed to be standing in for Ophelia. He would always think I'm her. He could never find out. My chest started squeezing when I thought of his reaction if he knew what we were doing. Something tells me it wouldn't be good.
I shook my arms out slightly and stood up straighter. Nothing's going to happen. He'll never find out. All I had to do was keep my distance. That would prevent me from doing or saying anything that could ruin this.
As I made my way to the table from the washroom, I saw the dance floor filled with people dancing, swaying slowly from side to side.
I didn't take my gaze off the lovely couples as I slowly sat in my seat.
I felt my lips pull up in a small smile when I saw a lovely couple.
They acted as if they were the only ones in the room.
He bent down and whispered something in her ear to which she threw her head back in laughter.
He tightened his grasp on her waist in an attempt to bring her closer, while he smiled at her.
I was distracted from the couple when someone cleared their throat and a hand was thrust in my direction. I followed the path up the person's arm to it's owners face. Mr. Morrenti's face gave nothing away.
As I placed, my hand in his I could feel the warmth of his palm radiating.
His hands were rough as if he wasn't scared to get his hands dirty yet surprisingly soft.
I stood up, the bunched silk, falling gracefully back down my legs.
I reached for my clutch on the table since I assumed we were leaving.
When I turned to face him, he grabbed the clutch and placed it back on the table.
He lazily looped my arm through his and directed me to the dance floor. He quickly pulled me in front of him before placing a wide palm on my back and the other hand gently grabbed mine.
"I, uh, don't know how to dance.", I said as I tried to take a step back.
He seemed to not care as he pulled me harshly towards him.
"Follow my lead.", he said as he placed my hand that was not in his on his shoulder.
I stared at our moving feet as we swayed side to side. Him moving gracefully and me trying not to step on his shoes. I heard a small chuckle and as I looked up, I came face to face with a smirking asshole.
Realizing he was laughing at my inability to dance, I tried to step away from him only for him to tighten his grip on my waist. His hand moved further up, fully touching my naked back. I felt his index finger move up and down my spine lazily.
"Can you send me a summary of the notes you took, tonight, by 12 pm tomorrow?"
I was concentrated on the fact that his touch made me nervous and that I could barely breathe from the small innocent touch and he was concentrated on work?
Pulling myself together, I looked up at him and gave him a wide smile. "Yes, of course."
Something about the look in his eyes told me he wanted to say something. Instead, he just reverted back into the void. He gave me a sharp nod and looked away. I noticed his hand slipped back to it previous position, no longer touching my skin.
Unsure of what I did to ruin his mood, I focused on my hand resting on his shoulder. I didn't want to do or say something to make his mood worsen so I decided I would try to stay in his shadows for the rest of the night.
That may have worked if only I had not sneezed on him within seconds of making that decision.
Written: 10/19/2023