{Keira}
For these last few hours, all I’ve been doing is go through everything my mind has managed to capture along off the bizarre events I found myself into this morning. However I try to take it, this still doesn’t add up. I’m not the person to go cray-cray about drinking and having one night stands with random strangers. Even though my friend keeps telling me it was just some innocent spur that I followed through, I still can’t put up with it.
Innocent, she says. Yeah, right!
For all I know, I would never celebrate rumbustiously on a festive day, let alone a random one. There was nothing for me to celebrate about, with drinking and getting on the car with strangers, since I was in the middle of a barrier that had captured my mind all the way through and I couldn’t get rid of. I was almost at the end of my studying and had only one assignment left which basically designated my entire future. And I had to get that right. But my friend kept telling that’s exactly why I had to pull a plug to it temporarily and have a girls night out at a random nightclub.
I invited my friend over for comfort, but all she’s done till now is making this story more pixilated and senseless than it was prior.
“I don’t get what’s with all the stress? It was fun. You got out of your own way for once and had fun.” I don’t think that was the correct choice of words, but Maelis keeps track just a moment later, considering the hesitation on her face and the pause that suggested she was trying to sort out the next conglomeration of words on her mind. “And he was hot by the way. You cannot deny it.”
“I didn’t notice.” I shrug and sway my shoulders afterwards. It’s so obvious I’m trying to keep something with a lid on.
“You cannot fool me with that look.” She looks at me as if she’s caught me with the cookie jar. The kind of look that makes me feel sinful even though I don’t precisely know why. “So, tell me. How was him?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean.”
“I wouldn’t happen to know. Nothing happened.” I shrug, remembering his enormous cock in the morning, and blink twice, and regret it a second later. She knows what this means.
“I got you right there.” She points at my eyes. “So, tell me the glorious details.”
“Ahh, okay. I don’t remember a thing.” I make an excuse for it. “But the morning juxtaposition pointed that a lot of naughty things must’ve happened.”
“You go, girl. I knew you’d polish it off.”
“I’m not sure,” I twirl the mug of tea she made for me with both hands on the table, waiting for it to cool off. “Anyway, wish I would feel as joyous as you about it.”
“You’re overthinking it. Just keep it casual. You got what you wanted and you’re done with him. It’s that simple.”
I get hold of the cup handle and take a sip, trying to pull down with the tea my sudden implosion that had captured all my world and has got me pondering thoroughly and regretting my actions. I’m the one to always be in control of myself, and I never do things that I’m gonna regret later. And yet, here I am, proving wrong to my own statement.
On the one hand, it is safe to say I could just let go of it and proceed with my own life, forget that I ever woke up nakedly in the room of a loaded man, and get on with the randomness that is my life. On the other hand, thing is, I just can’t get that image out of my face. He was pretty, I’ll give him that, sienna eyes, dark hair cut short on the sides and long on the top, and not to mention his buddy down there. Well, let’s just say he was well-endowed. And gross rich. How am I to get that man out of my head?
At this point, I don’t know what hurts the most, the fact that I got out of my comfort zone and got off on a stranger, or the fact that this stranger was irresistibly hot and couldn’t get out of my head.
“Anyway,” I tell my friend. “It’s time for me to go now. Thanks for coming over.”
I hope that as I’m headed to work (as much stressful and pestiferous as it is) I can actually keep my mind off…things…and strange, smoking hot man. Yep, hopefully the plaguy workplace will do to get my life back on track.
‘Cause that’s all I wish right now.
I just want to get on with my own life. That’s all. Nothing much. Nothing less.
But, does this fuss stop even when I’m headed to my workplace at Kensington’s? Well, I guess you know how it goes. Before I make it to the glorious building where I work, I have to drop by the coffeehouse at the end of the block and order the usual skinny latte for my boss. Yeah, needless to say, she’s a pain in the ass. My work badge says assistant, but if you asked me, I’d say more like a servant. Seriously, Mrs. Kensington is the buzziest person to ever exist. Sure, she’s a successful debutante, the CEO of her own company and is dirty rich, but anyway, that wouldn’t make up for her plaguy, fancy-ass needs. I have to comply with her every request.
Now, you might be wondering, why do I keep working for her if she’s that pestering of a person? Thing is, Mrs. Kensington has got connections (lots of them) and she might be very persuasive. And with my finals on the corner and the job market being all ready and versatile, I can’t really risk doing that.
I’m her coffee buyer, her personal shopper, family issues consoler, and none of it is entailed into my job description. I could be paid twice the monthly payments if we take into consideration my other out-of-description jobs that I do for her.
“Hey, Keira,” Harley, the latte boy, spreads his usual smile that with this much stress I’m handling today, I’m kind of skipping over. “The usual?”
“Yep, Harley.” I mumble, uninterested.
I guess it would be safe to say that Harley has been having a little crush on me since forever. When I first started frequenting the coffeehouse, he persisted all my coffee orders were on him, but after a couple of persists I kept him off with this approbation, mainly because all the orders were for my boss. And she didn’t deserve to have free coffee, a) because she was loaded and needed to spread her wealth to the world for economical dispersion and b) she was the meanest pinchgut world has ever seen.
“You seem a little distracted today. Has your grouch of a boss put you into intricate assignments again?” Harley smiles while flipping the lever to prepare my skinny latte.
“Something like that.” I tell him and in a flash, all of it comes back to me. How could I get that fucking roué out of my head?
I wait, contemplating, as he’s disposing of my coffee order while random people enter the coffeehouse and have their drinks requested. I mean, it’s kinda random, but for some reason I feel the sereneness on these couple of minutes being dispersed into multiple little pieces of other lives. Actually, my best day would’ve been cozying up at the corner of the ambience, enjoying my coffee and scrutinizing other people as they entered and leaved by that door.
I know it’s kinda bizarre, but yet so comfy.
I mean, I probably wish that as a receptive impulse my inner part complies so that on a perceptively enumerative world I wouldn’t be complying every request of Mrs. Nutty.
“I didn’t order two.” I scowl as Harley interrupts me from my thoughtfulness.
“I know.” He says smoothly.
I scramble on my purse for eight bucks, but before I even manage to bring the money forth, he interrupts me as always.
“Oh, no. It’s on the house.”
“I know,” I say, which, thinking about it a second later, comes off a little bit bizarre. “I mean, at least take the tree ninety-nine. Believe me, she’s got plenty.”
“Ok,” he spreads a boyish smile and shrugs nonchalantly while I give him Mrs. Nutty’s due.
As I hurry my way to my workplace, nudging my way rapidly through the Seattle rumbustious crowd, I take the elevator, summoning to the twenty-third floor. That’s where Mrs. Kensington is waiting for me anyway. Um, waiting I say? Let me put it another way. She’s all encumbered into her daily work sheets and getting cracky over her skinny latte being precisely eight minutes and fifty-six seconds late. Oh, I know what you’re thinking. You’re taking me as one of those OCD freaks. But I don’t blame you. Anyway, you’ll get why, when you meet my boss.
“Good morning, Mrs. Kensington.” I push forth a gilded smile, after having passed through the receptionist area and sending a nod to the girl behind the counter. Mrs. Nutty doesn’t even acknowledge my presence in her office, as I’m swiveling towards her work desk and put the paper cup above a white napkin across the muss of files organized compulsively on it.
“Keira, there’s some job you’re assigned to. It’s your big shot, I might say. One of the rival franchises is taking into consideration a merger agreement, which is going to be very big for our brand if we succeed. And you are to participate on this trial and spread your skills around. I designate you take this very seriously. Because if you fail, not only do you miss a tremendous shot for the future of this company, but you also put your job title at risk. And not to mention, your reputation.”
She’s such a scumbag, isn’t she?
I’m trying to process everything she’s saying, but needless to say I’m perplexed by the way how calm her complexion remains even while she’s putting up with her manipulative schemes. Because, yeah, this woman is the most manipulative, stone cold bitch that earth has ever seen. I mean, it doesn’t even take more than two minutes to realize her true nature.
But anyway, what did she say to me? I’m about to go out there and have my skills manifested?
Nah, I might’ve heard that wrong. I need to pinch myself to realize this is not only happening in my head, but I refrain myself the hurt just to save her gridding, unaffected look at me.
“Why me?” I manage to spill out, totally perplexed at her words.
“Oh, it’s not my choice.” She doesn’t even hoist her eyes from the laptop.
Now, this makes much more sense. I’ve been working for this woman for a couple of months now and all she’s been doing all along is trying to prove me how worthless and insignificant my ideas are to her company and to the world for that matter. That’s how I ended up being her PA. Which I’m not gonna complain, since you know how hard the job market can be nowadays.
“Clearly, the man designated to sign this agreement has personally requested your name to be put on the line. He made it clear to me that they wouldn’t accept another designer but you.” Since she’s not even glaring my way, I take advantage to pinch myself. Yep, this is really happening! It’s as real as it can be. Just when I thought I got away with it, she dispatched her attention from whatever it was she was doing into her computer and takes a look at me. The first thing she notices is my hand and her perfect eyebrows furrow compulsively. But then, she tries to pretend nothing bizarre just happened. “Ah, and he’s the CEO by the way. You need to take these files.” She slides my way through the desk some attached documents and I process toward it, getting hold of them. “He’s required you start working on it right away. There’s an address at the end. Now go.”
I hesitate to do so, since this all sounds so surreal to me.
“Didn’t you hear a word I said?”
“I—”
“Then get on with it. Before I make up my mind to put your ass on the streets.”
I get out of her office before she gets to the point where she can’t control herself anymore. What a psycho! I look down the files and scramble for any clue.
Capitol Hill, 98102.
It wouldn’t take long for me to get there. I order a cab and tell the address to the driver, while my head still refuses to believe this is happening.
All the way over there I’m basically pondering what this man must look like and why he had decided to summon me to this ordeal. How come he knows me in the first place?
My perplexity has obviously decided to take over, so everything around me just passes by randomly. I’m too eager to know this person, I skip over everything else, as I’m making my way to the third floor in the Cardenas&Co building. I explain my visit’s purpose to the receptionist (as much inexplicable as it is) and when she hears my name she puts a fake smile on her face and leads me across the hallway.
I enter into the spacious office and my jaw drops.
This, I didn’t expect.
The man whose name I can’t remember (maybe never even asked him in the first place) is standing unexpressibly in from of me, hand shoved in the pockets of his designer pants.
Just when I thought I started to get his face out of my head.