Something I shouldn’t Feel
929 Words
My heart raced as the HR manager stood up and stretched out her hand to me with a smile.
Congratulations, Miss Zara. You’ve got the job. Your resume is impressive, and we believe you’ll be a perfect fit for this role.
I nearly gasped, Thank you so much, I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the excitement bubbling inside me. I won’t disappoint you.
You’ll be resuming tomorrow as the Executive Assistant to the CEO. He’s... very particular, so stay professional and focused.
I nodded, still buzzing. Absolutely. I’m looking forward to meeting him.
The next morning, I walked into the building early, nerves and excitement twisting in my stomach. I had gone with a cream blouse, navy pencil skirt, and black heels. My hair was up in a neat bun. First impressions mattered, and I wasn’t taking chances.
But nothing could have prepared me for what I saw when I entered the CEO's office.
He looked up from behind his desk and my stomach dropped.
It was him ,the arrogant jerk from the club. The same guy I’d accidentally spilled wine on. His expression hardened the moment he recognized me.
"You," he said, voice cold and clipped.
I blinked, stunned. You’ve got to be kidding me.
Just perfect. Of all the CEOs in Los Angeles , I had to end up working for this one.
I squared my shoulders, refusing to let him intimidate me. I needed this job. And if I had to survive working with him, then so be it.
But I could already tell He wasn’t planning on making my stay here easy.
He glanced at me then just a flicker and the corners of his lips twitched, almost in amusement.
Miss...?
Zara,I answered.
Zara, he repeated, drawing it out like he was trying to attach the name to a warning. This isn’t a place for emotions or games. You’re here to work. Know your place.
A part of me bristled at that, but I bit it back. I knew how to pick my battles.
I understand, I said simply.
He pushed a file across the table toward me. Read this and summarize before noon , we have a meeting by noon.
I took it with a small nod.
As I left the office, I reminded myself—this wasn’t about pride. It was a job. And I needed it.
But still I could still feel the fire building quietly inside me .
My first full week at Kingston & Co. had been nothing short of intense. Every morning, I had to steel myself before walking into Alex Kingston’s office. He never smiled, never softened. His words were clipped, his tone sharp like orders disguised as instructions.
And yet, despite myself, my pulse always betrayed me. A lingering glance from him, the subtle dip in his voice when he dictated… those tiny cracks in his otherwise icy façade made my chest tighten in ways I refused to admit.
It’s been at least three months working at Kingston,I had figured my boss wasn’t that rude after-all, He just needed his works done to his taste.
“Zara,” he said one afternoon, eyes flicking to the papers in my hands, “your filing system is messy. Fix it.”
Internally, I rolled my eyes, but outwardly, I pasted on a sugary smile. “Of course, Mr. Kingston,” I said sweetly, the sarcasm tucked neatly beneath my tone.
His gaze darkened, as though my smile alone irritated him. “You always have something to say, don’t you?”
“Only when someone’s being difficult,” I countered lightly, refusing to break eye contact.
The silence that followed felt thick, charged, and far too aware. For a brief, reckless second, I thought he might say something else, something dangerous, but instead he cleared his throat.
“We have a board meeting tomorrow. You’ll be assisting me.”
I smirked. Great. I’m sure I’ll learn a lot.
I slipped out before he could retort, my grin stretching wider once the door shut behind me. He hated being challenged, I could tell. And I—foolishly—enjoyed every second of it.
Later that day, I found myself at the glass railing overlooking the open-plan office. Daniel from marketing was beside me, and our conversation was light, easy. He made a joke about the coffee machine, and I laughed harder than I meant to. I touched his arm without thinking, and he leaned in closer, his smile warm and familiar.
It felt good, effortless.
But when I walked back into Alex’s office minutes later, file in hand, the atmosphere had shifted. He looked up at me sharply, eyes stormy in a way I didn’t understand.
“Mr. Kingston,” I said evenly, placing the folder on his desk.
His jaw flexed. “Do you always… laugh like that with him?”
I froze, heat rushing to my cheeks. “Excuse me?”
His expression shuttered instantly. “Never mind.”
I tilted my head, trying to read the sudden tension in his voice. “Did I do something wrong?”
For a split second, something raw flickered in his eyes—something I wasn’t meant to see. But then it was gone.
“No,” he said tightly. “Just get ready for the meeting.”
I lingered, searching for some clue in his tone, before finally turning to leave. As the door clicked shut behind me, I hated how unsettled I felt.
Why did it sound like he cared?
Why did I secretly hope he did?
- Writer
