THE MOST DIFFICULT BOSS IN THE WORLD....
777 Words
Amara discovered on her first day that Damian Blackwood was, without question, the most difficult human being she had ever met.
“Coffee.”
She looked up from her desk.
“Yes?”
“Black.”
“You know there are thousands of employees in this building, right?”
Damian slowly lifted his eyes from the documents in front of him.
“And?”
“Why am I the one getting your coffee?”
“Because you're my assistant.”
“Assistant. Not personal coffee machine.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Amara.”
“Yes?”
“Coffee.”
She smiled.
“Please?”
A pause.
Damian stared at her.
She stared back.
“Coffee,” he repeated.
“No please?”
His jaw tightened.
Amara leaned back in her chair.
“I can wait.”
Damian had never met anyone more annoying.
He could buy entire companies before breakfast.
People waited months for meetings with him.
But this woman was sitting in front of him refusing to get coffee until he said please.
“Please,” he finally muttered.
Amara immediately stood.
“See? That wasn't difficult.”
“Don't test me.”
“Don't worry. I already know the answers.”
Damian glared.
Amara laughed.
And walked away.
Damian watched her leave.
Then looked down at his documents.
For the next ten minutes, he read the same sentence four times.
Their rivalry quickly became famous throughout the company.
Damian hated inefficiency.
Amara hated his attitude.
Damian wanted silence.
Amara talked.
Damian never smiled.
Amara smiled enough for both of them.
Damian worked through lunch.
Amara dragged food into his office.
“You need to eat.”
“I don't.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Who said?”
“Science.”
“I'm busy.”
“So eat while being busy.”
“Leave.”
“No.”
Damian stared at her.
“Amara.”
“Damian.”
His head slowly lifted.
“What did you just call me?”
“Damian.”
“You work for me.”
“And?”
“You don't call me Damian.”
“Then what should I call you?”
“Mr. Blackwood.”
She considered it.
“No.”
His expression darkened.
“No?”
“It sounds too formal.”
“It is formal.”
“You're thirty-one, not eighty.”
For the first time in days, Damian almost laughed.
Almost.
Instead, he looked away.
Amara noticed.
“You were going to smile.”
“I wasn't.”
“You were.”
“No.”
“Your mouth moved.”
“Amara.”
She grinned.
He hated her.
He was beginning to suspect that was a lie.
One evening, Amara remained in the office long after everyone had gone home.
She was working on a presentation for Damian.
Not because he had asked her to stay.
Because she knew he needed it.
She rubbed her tired eyes.
The lights in Damian's office were still on.
Of course they were.
That man probably considered sleep a weakness.
Amara entered without knocking.
“Why are you still here?”
Damian looked up.
“Why are you?”
“I asked first.”
“I don't answer unnecessary questions.”
She walked toward his desk.
“Do you ever get tired?”
“No.”
“Do you ever have fun?”
“No.”
“Do you have friends?”
“No.”
Amara blinked.
“That explains a lot.”
Damian slowly placed his pen down.
“Do you enjoy irritating me?”
“Very much.”
His phone rang.
He ignored it.
It rang again.
Amara glanced at the screen.
His grandfather.
“Are you going to answer?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because he'll ask me when I'm getting married.”
Amara laughed.
“Your grandfather wants grandchildren?”
Damian's eyes met hers.
“I have no interest in marriage.”
Something in his voice changed.
Amara noticed it.
For the first time, there was something beneath the coldness.
Something lonely.
She didn't tease him.
Instead, she placed the completed presentation on his desk.
“I'm going home.”
Damian looked at it.
“You finished this?”
“Yes.”
“I didn't ask you to.”
“I know.”
“Then why?”
Amara smiled.
“Because you needed it.”
She turned to leave.
“Amara.”
She looked back.
“Thank you.”
Her smile softened.
“You're welcome, Damian.”
And after she left, Damian stared at the closed door for a long time.
He didn't understand why.
But his office suddenly felt too quiet.
- Writer
