CHAPTER 5 – DÉJÀ VU IN A SUIT

803 Words
CHAPTER 5 – DÉJÀ VU IN A SUIT MIRIAM’S POV It’s only been a few days since the Hidalgo party, but it feels like a lifetime since a stranger’s lips melted my logic, since I slipped into that damn dress, and walked back home in heels that suddenly felt too heavy. And now I hadn’t even wiped the sleep from my eyes when my phone buzzed. Still half buried under the sheets, I reached for it, blinking past the blur. New Message from Ares Martinez. Ares who? My brows scrunched. I didn’t know any Ares. Until I opened the message. > "You’re late. The Boss doesn’t like delays. Pay up, princess. Or next time, it won’t be a conversation." My heart stuttered. Damon…of course it was Damon. Ares Martinez—his second-in-command. His warning dog. I could almost hear the leather gloves tightening. > “I got it covered,” I typed back with shaking fingers. Lies. Big, shiny, ugly lie. Because right now I didn’t have a dime. Not after rent. Not after food. Not after… everything. The only option left? Borrow money from the company’s cooperative fund and pray it came through fast. If they still had one. Things were changing too fast at Brandfort LC—or rather, whatever the hell the new name was. Word on the office grapevine was that a new CEO had taken over. And this one wasn’t like Mr. Brandon, the sweetheart who used to greet janitors and send flowers on people’s birthdays. This one? Arrogant, rude and cold as hell…allegedly. But no…his worse. He sent a team last week that fired almost half the staff. No warning. Just boxes and tears and security dragging people out like criminals. Even Mrs. Jennings, the secretary who practically ran the place, had been replaced. And now I had to walk into that building… as his Personal Assistant. Lucky me, I chewed the bottom of my lip. I rolled out of bed, dragged myself to the bathroom, brushed, bathed, and slipped into something simple: a navy-blue blouse tucked into tailored black trousers. I had my makeup minimal and my hair slicked back. I made sure my earrings didn’t jingle as I stared at myself in the mirror. “You’ve survived worse. You can handle one more cold-hearted boss,” I said to myself. I was out the door at ten, and at work at twenty. The tension in the building hit me before I even reached the elevator. Fresh faces everywhere, and everything felt so stiff. Like people were afraid to breathe wrong. I was almost at my office when I paused. Should I… greet the new boss? I didn’t know what he looked like, but a good first impression never hurt. Besides, I’d probably have to work under him soon anyway. I turned down the hallway toward the executive wing. The new secretary was sitting behind a glass desk, typing her keyboard. A girl in her late twenties with a precise bun and a no-nonsense attitude. “Hi, is the CEO in yet?” I said politely, smoothing down my blouse. She looked up scanning like a barcode. “Not yet. But he’ll be in soon.” “Okay. I’m Miriam Von Ryan—his PA.” She stared at me for a second longer, like she was trying to figure out if I was someone she could ignore. “He’ll be asking you first thing when he arrives. Also… he likes his coffee black. No sugar. No cream. Nothing.” “So… pain in a cup,” I blinked. She didn’t laugh. “He says it clears the mind.” Right. I turned and practically ran out of the building. The coffee shop across the street was thankfully empty. The barista knew my order by heart, but today, I had to spell it out—strong, black, no sugar. I didn’t even wait for a lid. By the time I reached the lobby, the secretary was already standing. “He’s in. And he’s looking for you,” she said quickly. Of course he is. I took a deep breath, adjusted my blouse, fixed the tray in my hands, and prayed. Please don’t let him be a jerk. Please don’t let him— I pushed the office door open and stepped in. The office was really quiet. Too quiet if you ask me, I almost thought no one was here. My heels clicked against the marble floor, echoing louder than they should’ve. My heartbeat? Even louder. And then—I saw him. He turned. That same coffee brown hair, that same eyes and God, that face… too damn pretty for a man. The coffee nearly slipped from my hands. No…No freaking way. That face, that smirk. That man— My heart literally stopped beating It was him.
Free reading for new users
Scan code to download app
Facebookexpand_more
  • author-avatar
    Writer
  • chap_listContents
  • likeADD