Chapter 66: Sharp-tongued assistant
1499words
He was the same arrogant, good-looking guy I bumped into at the coffee shop.
'A thief in my office?" he said with disdain.
'Hey, I won't take that from you. I'm not a thief. You dare not call me that," I defended, pointing a finger at him with a bitter frown on my face.
'The guts," he grabbed my hand and twirled me into the office.
'Ouch! You dare not mistreat me," I stood up for myself.
'Did you pay the money?" he asked, changing the topic while making me cower back.
His eyes pierced mine with a determined stare that left goosebumps on my skin. What if he is really a bad guy? How the heck did we end up in the office together?
'What money? I don't know what you're talking about. Now, stop moving close. Stop trying to scare me," I blurted, tightening my grip around my phone. Anything could happen, and nothing is too little to defend myself.
'Scare you? You've seen nothing yet if you don't answer my question. Did you pay my money?" he demanded, still crossing the distance between us.
I moved back silently until I stumbled upon my handbag and dropped onto my butt. Damn it. How did my handbag fall to the floor?
'You flung it to the floor while going to the bathroom, remember?" my inner voice reminded me.
'Are you deaf now?"
The temperature in the office was becoming intense and stuffy. My heartbeat was escalating.
'I didn't. I don't have that amount of money for a mere tracksuit. Who the hell buys tracksuits for a price worth someone's house rent?" I blurted, tears welling in my eyes.
He squatted in front of me with a villainous look that creeped the living hell out of me. He lifted my chin. My heart was going to explode. God, please help me.
'Then I guess you're here to pay in cash or kind," he said.
A tear dropped from my eye. I was nervous now.
'Mister, please. I'm sorry for what happened that day. I didn't do it intentionally. I can do anything. I will do the laundry perfectly, I'll do it more than twice if you want. Please, just move away from me right now." There was some demand in my tone.
'Fine," he stood up, giving me some relief.
I exhaled heavily and staggered to my feet, picking up my handbag along the way.
'Your palm," he demanded, holding a pen.
'Stop writing on my palm; that hurts," I complained, hiding my hands behind my back.
'It hurts? Do you even realize the intensity of what you did back there? You literally spilled hot coffee on my chest, leaving me with burns, and you think I care if you get hurt?" he groaned, making tears run down my face.
'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to burn you. Why were you standing so close behind me then? You made me spill my hot black coffee, and you think I wasn't hurt too?" I retorted.
'You are a selfish psychopath, you know that?"
'How would I know that?"
'You prefer your silly cup of black coffee over killing someone? What the hell are you?"
'Will you stop accusing me? I didn't kill anyone. Or…" I stopped to think while narrowing my eyes. 'Are you dead, and I'm speaking with your ghost?" I asked, trying to be sure. Screaming wasn't far from my lips anymore.
'You are insane. Get the hell out of here," he said.
'Out of where? You should be the one to get the hell out of here. This is my space now, and you can't intimidate me to leave," I declared.
'What the hell are you?" he groaned.
'It's *who* the hell are you, not the other way around. I'm not an object," I defended.
Without a word, he walked around the desk to the chair and sat down, picking up the telephone. Hold on a minute, who am I even dealing with here? Why is he acting like he owns this place?
'In my office now," he commanded into the phone.
My heart skipped a beat. Was that a security man? I was beginning to retreat to the door when the door suddenly opened. The secretary I saw downstairs earlier walked in.
'You called me, Sir," she said, almost prostrating before him.
I swallowed hard, beads of sweat forming on my forehead.
'How could you allow a nitwit into my office without my consent? Do you know who she is?" he demanded, not sounding pleasant at all.
'I'm sorry, Sir. She is your new PA," the secretary announced.
'No!" It was surprising how we both responded in unison. He scowled at me.
'She can't be my assistant. Who the hell brought her here? Has the hiring manager lost his sense of responsibility or what?"
'It's not the hiring manager, Sir. She is here on the order of your mother," the secretary responded.
His mother? The lady that interviewed me wasn't even four years older than me, and she already gave birth to a handsome, fear-inducing man?
The man's eyes flickered from the secretary to mine. 'It's fine. You can go," he told the secretary.
'Thank you, Sir," she said, and went off.
I wiped my tears and moved close to the desk.
'Um, Sir. I know we started on the wrong note, but since we are going to be stuck here together for some months, I think we should reconcile now. Boss and assistant?" I offered, stretching my hand to him for a handshake.
He reduced me to the size of nothing with his disdainful head-to-toe scrutiny.
'While we are in this office together, you're going to maintain your space. Don't antagonize me," he warned.
'How can we work together being at loggerheads?"
He didn't deem my question worth answering as he picked up his headphones and wore them. Hold on a minute, who the hell wears headphones during working hours? I stood there, doing or saying nothing. What the hell am I supposed to do in the office now?
'Boss? You can't just be mute and snobbish," I said without getting a reply.
***
It was past 2 PM already. I guess it was breaktime, and I plugged in my earbuds. Nothing feels more comforting after a long hour of sitting and doing nothing than listening to some cool music. The confusion that was my boss didn't utter a word or even glance at me since this morning. Well, when there are two desks in the office, one has to be mine as the PA. I hummed along with the song I was listening to.
'Are you deaf?!" someone's fist slammed on my desk, startling the living daylight out of me. I quickly unplugged my earbuds, lifting my eyes to see my boss glaring daggers at me.
'Are you okay, boss?" I asked, keeping my cool.
'What do you think you're doing?" he groaned.
'What does it look like I'm doing?" I retorted.
'What's your purpose in this office? Why are you here?" he queried.
'To assist you, I believe," I replied with a shrug.
'And what are you doing now?"
I paused for a minute, trying to put my words together in my head to see if they fit right into the context.
'I know where this is heading. What have you been doing since morning? You don't talk to me, and snub me when I ask you a question. What do you want me to do? Since you don't need me assisting you, it's wise for me to stay away, as you ordered," I stated.
'Do you want to lose your job?" he asked.
'Are you threatening me?" I asked, standing up. 'Look here, boss. If you report me to your mother to fire me, I will too because we are both guilty, remember?"
'Are you insane? Do you even realize my position in this office?"
'Who knows, and who cares? All I know is that even the CEO or chairman of a firm can and will be removed if they misbehave, so don't overestimate your position in this office," I made it clear to him.
He sighed, ran his fingers through his hair, which, unfortunately, were braids, and chuckled. For the first time, I saw his dimples. Isn't my boss a well-defined handsome man? I have a dimple too, but on my left cheek, compared to his, which is on both cheeks.
'And why are you smiling?" he suddenly asked. I didn't realize I was.
'I'm sorry, Sir," I apologized, lowering my gaze. Without another word, he turned to go back to his desk.
'Sir, it's breaktime. What should I get you?" I asked. He glanced at me, walked around the desk to his chair, and sat down.
'Be quiet," he said simply, and plugged his headphones back in. How the hell am I supposed to deal with this? I grunted and dropped back on my seat, cracking my knuckles.
