Chapter Four
994 Words
Arianna's POV
I stepped into the elevator, buzzing with excitement. Leo had just informed me that the Executive office was on the forty-fifth floor. I clicked the button, practically dancing on the spot. Huge promotion equals fatty bank balance.
But my excitement was short lived. The doors slid open, and in walked Olivia.
“You disgust me, Arianna.” She spat, her glare sharp enough to slice glass.
“That’s rich, coming from someone who snatched another woman’s boyfriend and her contract.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I promise you’ll be kicked out of here soon. You don't deserve this.”
I crossed my arms and smiled sweetly. “You forgot one tiny thing: I’m the youngest employee to ever win the Mega Sales Award. That’s going down in company history. Oh, and who knew losing the contract would be a blessing in disguise.”
I leaned forward and pressed the stop button. The elevator dinged and the doors slid open on the 25th floor.
“You should hop off now. The executive floor is restricted,” I made exaggerated air quotes, “or are you going to wag your tail and follow me to my new office?”
Her nostrils flared. “I will make your life a living hell.”
“Bye bye.” I waved, smiling brightly as the doors closed on her scowl.
My fued with Olivia had been on for three years – ever since I
stepped foot in the company. She hated that I outshined her at practically everything even though she'd been here the longest. Not to brag, but I'm just that good. Especially at what I love; art.
My dad was one hell of an artist before he died, and I practically grew up in a studio. My childhood wss brush strokes, charcoal dust, and endless canvases. Thinking about him brought a sad smile to my face.
I miss you, Dad.
The sound of the elevator signalled that I had reached my destination. The forty-fifth floor was serene and professional, very unlike the chaos below. A woman seated at the sleek desk looked up with a warm smile. I figured she was in charge of administrative affairs on this floor.
“Good morning!” I greeted, politely.
“Good morning, Miss Kent. Congratulations on your promotion.” She smiled at me
“Words do travel fast.” I chuckled.
“Not exactly. Someone from HR dropped off your ID card early this morning.” She retrieved it from under her desk. “Here you go.”
“Thank you.” I muttered, slipping the lanyard over my neck.
‘You’re welcome. I'm Mrs. Abigail Lane, you can call me Abby. Come, I'll show you to the Golden floor.”
The fiftieth floor aka the Golden Floor, was where the real power sat –the President's office included. I stood at the entryway, my heart fluttering.
“Come on,” Abby said with a smile, “let's get you settled in.”
As we walked, she gave a mini tour while I scribbles notes furiously. Finally, we stopped at a door with a gold-plated sign: Private Secretary Office.
She gave a playful little bow and I giggled.
“Welcome to your new office, Miss Kent."
I beamed. “Thanks.”
“Mr. McLeod is currently in a meeting. He’ll be free in twenty minutes –no later. He hates delays and tardiness.”
“Aye aye, Captain,” I saluted, and we both laughed.
As she turned to leave, she added, “I heard his previous secretaries all quit in less a month. Good luck!”
I raised a brow but grinned. Deep down, I was thrilled. This felt right. Like nothing could possibly go wrong.
I spun around in my office chair, basking in the feeling of my new space. When the clock hit twelve, exactly twenty minutes, I rushed down the corridor and knocked gently on the President's door.
“Enter. ” Came a rather commanding door.
I walked in, closed the door behind and froze.
No. Freaking. Way.
This is so wrong, my mind screamed. What the actual f**k is he doing here?
There, behind the desk, sat him. My one-night stand. The stranger with the intoxicating cologne, sinful smile, and hands that had ruined me in the best possible way.
Killian McLeod. The President. My boss.
He didn't look up at first. He sat majestically behind his desk, scribbling something down, completely unaware of the emotional hurricane that had just hit me. writing something on a paper before him.
Focus, Arianna!
When he finally lifted his gaze, those cold, commanding eyes met mine. I shivered.
“You are one minute and three seconds late, Miss Kent.” He said in a low, annoyed tone.
Wait… did he not recognize me?
“I–I came in as soon as the meeting ended,” I stammered.
He looked at his watch. “Wrong. You entered at 12:01 PM. You’ve wasted my valuable time.”
What the hell!! I am being questioned for being one minute late.
“I left my office by 12:00 on the dot —”
“Next time leave your office by 11:59,” His voice came composedly, as his heated yet cold gaze roamed over my face.
Still no flicker of recognition. Thank God.
“Is that clear?”
“Yes sir.”
He straightened. “You'll be handling a pitch for a major business partner in a hour. I've sent the necessary documents to your office email. You'll present them. No mistakes.”
“Understood.” I swallowed. “Is there something I should know about the partner? Their name or business style?”
His eyes lingered on mine. “Mr. Michael Gilles.”
And that was it. No elaboration. Just a stare that made me want to squirm.
“I will take my leave.” I muttered, bowing slightly before stepping out and closing the door behind me.
- Writer
