Rainbow

Stalking Alessia

Maya sat perched on the stool at her cramped kitchen counter, her bare legs swinging slightly in the quiet of her apartment. She was dressed down in a simple, faded pink vest and a pair of comfortable black cotton shorts.

Three full days had passed since the disastrous incident at the Angels' headquarters. Sixty-two hours since she had been shoved aside, insulted, and left to question her own coordination in a polished hallway. Logically, she had already crossed Angels completely off her list. She was a realist, or at least she forced herself to be. She knew that after Mrs. Gable's severe stares and Alessia Carter's icy, final declaration that the company had no use for her, her chances of securing that floor attendant position were effectively zero. She had spent the weekend telling herself it was for the best. Who would want to work for a tyrant anyway?

Yet, despite her best efforts to move on, her fingers refused to cooperate.

For the past seventy-two hours, an insatiable curiosity had taken hold of her, a magnetic pull she couldn't entirely explain or control. Maya simply couldn't stop herself from trying to find out what type of person Alessia Carter truly was behind the terrifying, larger-than-life corporate facade.

On the screen of her laptop, a dozen tabs were open, all dedicated to the sovereign ruler of the lingerie empire. Alessia was a monumental sensation to the female audience worldwide. Millions of girls didn't just buy her products; they worshiped her lifestyle. They aspired to be her, to emulate that absolute, unapologetic power and untouchable grace.

Maya had spent the weekend falling deep down the rabbit hole. She had watched almost all of Alessia's online interviews, analyzing the sharp, calculated way she spoke to journalists. She had streamed her promotional ad videos on loop, studying the fluid, mesmerizing way the woman moved in front of a camera. Honestly, Maya had seen more pictures of Alessia over the last three days than she had seen of her own reflection in the mirror.

Most of the promotional media featured Alessia modeling her own brand. There were countless high-fashion shots of her in Angels bikinis, premium silk lingerie, sheer panties, and intricate bras. Staring at the glowing screen, Maya let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She couldn't deny it, no matter how much she resented the woman's attitude: Alessia Carter possessed a profoundly sexy body.

It wasn't just thin; it was sculpted, an effortless masterpiece of biology. She had full, heavy breasts that perfectly fit her elegant, athletic frame, an impossibly small waist that tapered down into flared hips, and a very cute, rounded ass that looked defyingly perfect in every cut of fabric. Maya scrolled down, her eyes widening slightly at a particularly bold editorial photograph. In it, Alessia was draped across a velvet chaise lounge, wearing nothing but a matching set of black lacy pants and a sheer, unlined bra. The lighting was low and dramatic, capturing the distinct outline of her n*****s poking through the delicate lace.

Maya swallowed hard, a sudden, unexpected heat rising to her cheeks. Her throat felt dry. After three solid days of intense, borderline obsessive cyber-stalking, she felt a bizarre, overwhelming sensation, like she knew this untouchable woman personally. She knew the exact angle at which Alessia tilted her chin when she was annoyed; she knew the subtle, smoky quality her voice took on when she discussed textile engineering; she knew the topography of her skin. It was an intoxicating, dangerous illusion of intimacy.

With a sudden burst of self-reproof, Maya slammed the laptop screen shut. The sudden clack echoes in the quiet kitchen.

She raised both hands and massaged her forehead, trying to rub away the lingering images of black lace and piercing blue eyes. It was already Sunday night. Stalking her billionaire tormentor wasn't going to fix her life. Tomorrow morning, the real world resumed. She had already mapped out a plan to visit a few local companies downtown, hand out fresh copies of her CV, and hopefully lock down an interview for a job she truly deserved… one where she would be treated like a human being.

BRRRRRING!

The sudden, incredibly loud blast of her ringtone shattered the silence, causing her to jump nearly an inch off her stool. Her heart leaped into her throat. She steadied her breathing, reached across the counter, and picked up her vibrating phone.

An unfamiliar, official-looking corporate number glowed on the screen.

Maya stared at the strange digits for a few agonizing seconds, a sudden wave of nervousness washing over her. She cleared her throat, tapped the screen, and answered hesitantly. "Hello?"

"Is this Maya Palmer?" a professional, concise female voice inquired from the other end of the line.

Maya gripped the phone a little tighter, her spine instinctively straightening. "Yes, this is Maya Palmer speaking."

"Hello, Ms. Palmer. I'm calling from the human resources department at Angels. I am reaching out to inform you that the review process is complete, and congratulations, you've got the job."

Maya froze. The air left her lungs entirely. She stared blankly at the kitchen wall, her brain refusing to process the syllables that had just been delivered to her ear. The job? At Angels? After everything?

"An official employment email with your contract details and onboarding paperwork will be sent out to you shortly," the voice continued smoothly, completely unaware of the existential shock Maya was currently experiencing. "We operate on a strict schedule here, so we would like to see you at the headquarters by eight o'clock tomorrow morning for your orientation. Is that okay with you?"

Maya's mind was spinning at a million miles per hour. She wanted to scream. She wanted to yell out in pure, unadulterated shock, but the painful memory of her past clumsiness flared up in her mind. She couldn't afford another embarrassment, especially not over an official phone call with her new employer. If she squealed like a child, they might realize they called the wrong number and rescind the offer on the spot.

Forcing her voice into its deepest, most professional register, Maya took a slow, deep breath to steady the trembling in her chest.

"Sure," Maya managed to say, her tone remarkably calm and collected. "I will be there tomorrow morning at eight sharp. Thank you so much for the opportunity."

"Wonderful. Welcome to the team, Ms. Palmer. Have a good evening."

The line went dead with a soft click.

For two seconds, Maya sat there, the phone pressed against her ear, staring into space. Then, the reality of the situation finally pierced through her shock. She had the job. Against all mathematical and logical odds, she was officially an employee of Angels.

"Oh my god!" she whispered, a massive, brilliant smile breaking across her face.

She tossed the phone onto the kitchen counter and jumped down from her stool, a wild burst of adrenaline exploding through her limbs. She rushed into the living room, completely abandoning her usual composed demeanor. She started dancing across the worn-out carpet, throwing her hands in the air, laughing hysterically as she launched into a celebratory routine, even twerking a little out of pure, unbridled joy.

She didn't care how ridiculous she looked in her pink vest and black shorts. She was employed!

Sprinting toward her bedroom wardrobe, her mind shifted into a manic gear as she began to prepare her clothes for the next morning. She carefully selected a clean, tailored pink long-sleeved shirt and a sharp black pencil skirt, making absolutely sure to pair them with a pair of sensible, sturdy, low-blocked heels that wouldn't betray her on the polished floors.

As she ironed her outfit, a small, grounding thought settled in her mind. The position of a retail floor attendant might not be anywhere close to her academic standards or the high-reaching career goals she had studied so hard for in university. It was an entry-level job, a customer service post. But right now, pride couldn't put food on her table. It was still a job, it was an honest living, and besides, Angels was legendary for paying its staff exceptionally well, far above the industry standard. This paycheck was going to sort out her back rent, clear her mounting bills, and finally give her room to breathe.

Maya smiled to herself as she hung up her freshly pressed clothes. She was going back to the glass palace tomorrow morning. She was going to keep her head down, do her job perfectly, avoid the terrifying CEO at all costs, and finally get her life back on track.