Handsome Boss, Office Secret

Lisa Ivory Stone's point of view: If you want that dream job, watch someone who's already doing it like a hawk. Start from the bottom, work your way up, and make yourself so darn useful that the big boss can't imagine the place without you. Learn everything about their world, and once you've got that degree, they'll be begging you to join their team. That's what happened to me—I became the go-to girl, even though sometimes I wanted to give my boss a piece of my mind. My boss, Mr. Jonathan cavinner, is a real piece of work, like a charming devil. Thinking about him just makes me queasy: tall, good-looking, but totally rotten inside. He's the definition of arrogant, a total jerk in every way. I'd overhear the office chatter about his shady moves and wonder if being good-looking was his only talent. I quickly learned that looks aren't everything; it's what's inside that counts. I've had my fair share of lousy guys before, but none compare to him. "Ah, Miss Ivory Stone, good morning!" Mr. Cavinner greeted me as he leaned into the doorway of my office, conveniently connected to his. His voice was sweet, but there was a strange undertone... like a candy that had lost its flavor, dull and unappealing. After a wild night out with my girls and a late start due to a car disaster, plus an Uber ride to work, the last thing I wanted was to deal with Mr. Cavinner's bad mood. But of course, he only seemed to have one flavor: irritability. I greeted Mr. Cavinner with my usual "Good morning," hoping for his customary nod in return. But instead, he remarked, "Morning, Miss Ivory Stone? What's the time in your little bubble?" His comment caught me off guard, and I looked up to meet his cold stare. He stood much taller than me, towering over by about eight inches, making me feel small— I hadn't experienced since joining the company 5 years ago. Since he came back to the family business 10 months ago, I've been rocking heels I used to think were sky-high just to meet him eye-to-eye. Even with the extra boost, I still had to crane my neck up to see him, and he seemed to get a kick out of it, his hazel eyes twinkling. "Had a bit of a rough start this morning. It won’t happen again," I assured him, thankful my voice stayed steady. I'd never been late before, but leave it to him to make a fuss the first time it happened. I managed to pass him, quickly put away my purse and coat, and started up my computer. I did my best to ignore him lingering in the doorway, observing my every move. "Calling it a disaster morning sums up perfectly what I’ve been dealing with while you were away," he remarked. "So, in essence, I've been handling both your tasks and mine this morning. Surely, even on a 'disaster morning,' you can make it in by eight a.m.? Some of us are already hard at work. I glanced up at him, annoyed by his intense gaze, his arms folded tightly over his chest—a consequence of my tardiness. Swiftly, I looked away, intentionally avoiding appreciating how well his dark tailored suit complemented his physique. I recalled the embarrassing encounter of bumping into him at the company gym. He had a face that could compete with any male model's, and his hair was truly remarkable. His physique was like that of a Greek god, and according to the gossip, he lived up to every fantasy the girls had imagined. "Sorry about that, Mr. Cavinner," I said, my tone hinting at a bit of firmness. "I get it, it's not ideal having to deal with emails and calls. But trust me, I'll make sure it doesn't happen again." "You're spot on," he replied, his confident grin unchanged. "If only he knew when to zip it, he'd be top-notch. "Hey, just a heads-up, I need those Hambank project status tables on my desk by 5 PM, okay? And since you lost some time this morning, can you do a practice board presentation for the Indraprastha project in the conference room at 6 PM? If you wanna handle this project, show me what you've got." My eyes went wide as I watched him. He stormed off, slamming his office door like a drama queen. He knew I was killing it with this project; I had ages to polish my slides before the contracts were inked—contracts that weren't even fully cooked up yet. And now, on top of everything else on my plate, he wants me to whip up a mock board presentation in... *checks watch*... fabulous, if I skip lunch. *Sigh.* Time to dive into the file and hustle. As everyone else dashed off for lunch, I hung back at my desk, savoring my coffee and raiding the vending machine for snacks. Usually, I'd either bring my own lunch or tag along with the gang, but today was one of those crazy days—I was swamped. Just as I was lost in my snack attack, I heard the office door creak open. Looking up, I flashed a grin as Alina strolled in. Alina, my partner in number-crunching adventures, chirped, "Lunch break, anyone?” "I'm totally skipping lunch. Today's a total mess," I groaned, locking eyes with her with a sorry expression. Her smirk hinted mischief. "Bad day or bad boss?" she teased, perching on my desk. I shot her a knowing look. Alina might not directly deal with him, but she sure knew all about Jonathan Cavinner. Son of the big boss, Dean Cavinner, and famous for his short fuse, Jonathan was like an office legend. this wouldn't get done in time," I confessed. "You sure you don't want me to grab you something when I'm out?" Her concern shone in her eyes. After Alina left, I finished my coffee only to notice a run in my stockings, muttering about my luck as Alina returned. Now faced with 'ripped stockings' as an additional problem, I jokingly requested 100 pounds of gummy bears for some much-needed sugar therapy. Anticipating Alina's reaction, I glanced up, only to find someone else there, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment as I hastily adjusted my skirt. Apologizing to Mr. Jonathan Cavinner, I was reminded to focus on completing the presentation amidst our wardrobe discussions.