Mr. British (Completed)

“Why haven't you complete the task I ordered you to do Miss Linton?” Mr Norman, my boss asked as soon as I stepped inside his office empty handed. I hid my hands behind my back that kept shaking and stepped closer towards his desk. “Well you see sir,” I started. “I was thinking th-” “Thinking?” he cuts me off, outraged. “Now who would of demand you to do a difficult thing such as that?” “Well you se-” “I'm not sure if it was all in my head,” he cuts me off again, “but if memory serves me right— which it always does then I'm pretty sure that the last time you came in here saying you were thinking, I almost lost millions and you almost lost your job. So, tell me... why do you continue to think?” Putting my head down in embarrassment and shame, I continued to fiddle with my fingers behind my back. He always treats me this way and let me feel like a complete i***t all the bloody time. Even though I know I should be used to this type of treatment by now but the thing is, I'm not. And i don't think I ever will be. “Miss Linton,” he says impatiently as his cold emerald eyes stays transfixed on me— pen tapping away on his desk. "Well sir," I begun slowly, choosing my words carefully. “I just thi-” I pause and take a deep breath. “I just thi-” I take a deep breath again, this time with my hands at my side, playing with the tail of my skirt. “For the love of God just spit it out already," he turn his head to the sky and rolls his eyes before throwing the pen on the table. I clear my throat then step closer towards his desk, body stiff as a hard on. “I think that I'm not the right person to carry out the task you so kindly handed to me sir.” I finally breathe out, patting myself on the back in my mind. He gave me a confused look, tilting his head to the side before rising from his seat. Tall legs making there way around the desk so he could stand directly in front of me. “Do you have and headache?” he asked which caused me to frown and shake my head in a negative. “Do you feel different from how u felt a couple minutes ago?” I shake my head once more. “Is this working perfectly fine?” he taps the side of my head with his index finger. I nod my head slowly, still frowning while he study my face for a while before backing up so that his legs were now touching the front of his desk. He fold his arms over his chest then cross his ankles with each other while letting out a amuse chuckle. The kind of chuckle that is usually followed by an insult or should I say; blunt and careless words that doesn't take a lot out of him to say. “I can't believe I'm saying this but am starting to think that your thinking as done more damage than I thought.” I open and close my mouth, not knowing what to say because the truth was— I had nothing to say. He can't believe he just said that? I mean....wow. I can't believe it took so long for him to actually say it. “Miss Linton, please go take an advil or something then make your way back to my office with a complete, on point sketch of what I asked you for or thinking will be the only thing you will be doing if I don't get the designs for my new office in New York and you find yourself jobless, on streets, thinking as to how you end up from here to there.” Sighing in frustration, i run my hands through my hair, already feeling the soreness and fatigue of my joints and muscles—wanting so badly to just go home but how could I when I had to deal with things such as this. “Do you understand me?” The bastard ask, I exhale slowly then nod my head. “Yes sir.” “Good,” he claps his hands together enthusiastically before using them to gesture me to the door. “Get on with it then Miss Linton.”