His Spoiled Princess

Episode. 2

His Spoiled Princess

Chapter 2: The Billionaire, the Bad Coffee, and the Office Disaster



In this chapter, Arabella starts her first day at Sterling Enterprises. Alexander wants a disciplined employee, but unfortunately for him, he has hired a girl whose talent for creating chaos is almost as impressive as his talent for making people afraid of him.



8:03 A.M. — A National Emergency



Arabella Rose Williams was going to kill her alarm clock.



Not literally.



Probably.



Her phone vibrated beneath her pillow for the seventh time.



She opened one eye and stared at the screen.



7:15 A.M. — WAKE UP, PRINCESS!



“Whoever invented mornings deserves to be investigated.”



She rolled over.



Then she remembered something horrible.



Something unforgivable.



Something that had ruined her entire existence.



She had a job.



At eight in the morning.



With Alexander Sterling.



Arabella shot out of bed.



“OH, MY GOD!”



She ran into the bathroom, brushed her teeth while searching for her hairbrush, and somehow managed to put moisturiser on one eyebrow.



Ten minutes later, she stood in front of her wardrobe wearing a black skirt, a white blouse, and one black heel.



One.



She stared at her feet.



“Where is your partner?”



The missing shoe did not respond.



“Fine. Be mysterious.”



She searched beneath the bed, inside the wardrobe, behind the curtains, and even in the laundry basket.



Nothing.



Finally, she found the second heel inside a shopping bag.



Arabella stared at it.



“I don't remember putting you there.”



She put it on and grabbed her handbag.



At the bottom of the stairs, her father was reading the newspaper.



He glanced at her.



“Going somewhere?”



“No, Daddy. I'm dressed like a corporate employee because I enjoy suffering.”



He lowered the newspaper.



“Your first day?”



“Yes.”



“Good luck.”



Arabella stopped.



Then she walked back and kissed his cheek.



“Thank you.”



“And Arabella?”



“Yes?”



“Try not to get fired before lunch.”



She gasped.



“Why does nobody in this family believe in me?”



Her father smiled.



“Because we know you.”



“Unbelievable!”



She stormed out.



Her father returned to his newspaper, looking suspiciously pleased with himself.



8:47 A.M. — The Arrival of Trouble



Arabella arrived at Sterling Enterprises at 8:47 a.m.



She was forty-seven minutes late.



Technically, her employment agreement said eight.



But in Arabella's defence, London traffic was terrible, her driver had taken the wrong turn, and the universe was clearly working against her.



She marched into the building holding an iced coffee.



“Good morning!” she announced to the receptionist.



The receptionist looked up, surprised.



“Good morning, Miss Williams.”



“Has Mr. Sterling arrived?”



The receptionist glanced at the clock.



“He arrived at seven.”



Arabella stopped.



“Seven?”



“Yes.”



“Why?”



The receptionist blinked.



“Because he starts work early?”



Arabella leaned closer.



“Does he have a family?”



“I believe so.”



“Do they know he's doing this to himself?”



The receptionist pressed her lips together.



Arabella nodded sympathetically.



“Poor people. Imagine having breakfast with a man who probably schedules his chewing.”



Behind her, someone cleared his throat.



A very familiar throat.



Arabella slowly turned.



Alexander Sterling stood three feet away, wearing a charcoal suit and an expression that could freeze an entire swimming pool.



“Good morning, Miss Williams.”



Arabella smiled.



“Mr. Sterling! You're early.”



His eyes moved to the clock.



“I'm forty-seven minutes late,” she corrected quickly. “You're early for being angry about it.”



Daniel, who stood beside Alexander, suddenly became fascinated by his tablet.



Alexander held out his hand.



“Your coffee.”



Arabella looked at the cup.



Then at him.



“Excuse me?”



“You're not permitted to bring drinks into the office without a lid. And you're late.”



She glanced at her cup.



It had a lid.



She raised it triumphantly.



“It has a lid.”



Alexander stared at her.



Arabella stared back.



Daniel quietly stepped away.



He had learned to recognise danger.



“Your desk is on the twenty-eighth floor,” Alexander said. “You will report to me immediately.”



“Of course.”



“And tomorrow, you'll arrive on time.”



“Absolutely.”



“Eight means eight.”



“Right.”



“Not eight fifteen.”



“Understood.”



“Not eight thirty.”



“Crystal clear.”



“Not eight forty-seven.”



Arabella sighed.



“Mr. Sterling, I understand the concept of numbers.”



“I'm beginning to doubt that.”



She gasped.



He walked toward the lifts.



Arabella followed him, muttering, “And I'm beginning to doubt the concept of kindness.”



“I heard that.”



“Excellent. Perhaps we should have your hearing tested next.”



Daniel made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.



Alexander turned his head.



Daniel immediately coughed.



“Dust,” he explained.



“There is no dust,” Alexander replied.



“Very aggressive dust, sir.”



Arabella nearly choked on her coffee.



This job was going to be entertaining.



The Coffee Incident



At 9:10 a.m., Alexander called Arabella into his office.



She entered carrying a notebook, a pen, and a second coffee.



Alexander looked at the cup.



“Another one?”



“It's my emotional support coffee.”



“You've been here for twenty minutes.”



“Exactly. It's been a difficult twenty minutes.”



He pointed to the chair opposite his desk.



“Sit.”



She sat.



“Your responsibilities include organising meetings, reviewing documents, managing schedules, and assisting with client communications.”



Arabella nodded seriously.



“I can do that.”



“You'll also be required to prepare reports.”



“Wonderful.”



“And attend training sessions.”



“Fantastic.”



“And learn to use Excel.”



Her smile faltered.



“Let's not ruin a beautiful morning.”



Alexander pushed a laptop toward her.



“Open the spreadsheet.”



Arabella stared at the screen.



Rows.



Columns.



Boxes.



Thousands of tiny boxes.



She leaned closer.



“Why does it look like a prison for numbers?”



“It's a spreadsheet.”



“I know what it is.”



“Then use it.”



Arabella placed her fingers on the keyboard.



She typed her name.



Then the date.



Then, for reasons known only to herself, she typed:



ALEXANDER STERLING IS A HUMAN HEADACHE.



Alexander appeared beside her desk.



“What did you just type?”



Arabella slammed her hands over the keyboard.



“Business information.”



He looked at the screen.



His face went blank.



“Delete it.”



“It's a very accurate observation.”



“Miss Williams.”



“Fine.”



She deleted the sentence.



Unfortunately, she selected the entire spreadsheet instead.



The data disappeared.



Arabella froze.



Alexander froze.



Even the air seemed to freeze.



She slowly turned toward him.



“Good news?”



He stared at the empty screen.



“I'm listening.”



“We have a fresh start.”



“Arabella.”



“Yes?”



“Leave my office.”



She grabbed her coffee and notebook.



“Of course.”



She stood too quickly, caught her handbag on the chair, and bumped the desk.



Her coffee tipped.



Straight onto Alexander's documents.



Silence.



Arabella looked at the coffee spreading across the papers.



Then at Alexander.



Then back at the coffee.



“Oh.”



Alexander looked down.



Arabella swallowed.



“I can explain.”



“Can you?”



“Yes.”



“I'm fascinated.”



She grabbed a tissue and began dabbing at the papers.



“Perhaps the coffee was dissatisfied with the working environment.”



Alexander stared at her.



“It's coffee.”



“Exactly. Nobody asks for its opinion.”



He took the tissue from her hand.



“Stop helping.”



She stepped back.



“I'm beginning to think you don't appreciate my contributions.”



“Your contribution is currently a wet financial report.”



Arabella bit her lip to stop herself from laughing.



It didn't work.



A small giggle escaped.



Alexander slowly raised his eyes.



“Are you laughing?”



“No.”



“You are.”



“It's a nervous reaction.”



“To what?”



“Your face.”



He closed his eyes.



“Daniel!”



The office door opened immediately.



“Yes, sir?”



“Please escort Miss Williams to her desk before she destroys the company.”



Daniel looked at the wet documents.



Then at Arabella.



Then at Alexander.



“Should I bring a fire extinguisher?”



“Bring a new report.”



“Two reports?”



Alexander looked at him.



Daniel nodded.



“One report. Understood.”



Arabella hurried out before she could laugh again.



Behind her, Alexander muttered something about recruitment standards.



She heard every word.



And smiled.



The Office Lunch Disaster



By noon, Arabella had learned three important things.



First, the office printer hated her.



Second, Excel was designed by someone who had personally suffered at the hands of humanity.



Third, Daniel Brooks was the only person in the building who seemed capable of normal conversation.



She found him in the break room.



“Daniel, I have a question.”



He looked up from his sandwich.



“Should I be worried?”



“Probably.”



He sighed.



“What is it?”



“Does Alexander ever smile?”



Daniel considered the question.



“Once.”



Arabella's eyes widened.



“When?”



“His company made a record profit.”



“And?”



“He asked why it wasn't higher.”



Arabella stared at him.



“That man needs a hobby.”



“He has one.”



“What?”



“Making people nervous.”



She burst out laughing.



Daniel grinned.



“Careful. If he hears you, he'll schedule a meeting about workplace morale.”



Arabella sat opposite him.



“Tell me something. Is he always this grumpy, or did someone steal his childhood teddy bear?”



“His childhood teddy bear?”



“Yes. Perhaps he lost it in a tragic incident involving a washing machine.”



Daniel laughed so hard that he nearly dropped his sandwich.



For the first time all morning, Arabella felt comfortable.



Then the break-room door opened.



Alexander stood there.



His gaze moved from Daniel to Arabella.



“Am I interrupting something?”



Arabella smiled.



“Just discussing your childhood.”



Daniel looked as if he wanted to disappear into the floor.



Alexander walked inside.



“My childhood?”



“Yes. Very mysterious. Very tragic. Possibly a missing teddy bear.”



Daniel covered his face.



Alexander placed a folder on the table.



“Miss Williams, I need you to deliver these documents to the conference room.”



Arabella looked at the folder.



“Now?”



“No. Next Christmas.”



She narrowed her eyes.



“Your humour is improving.”



“My patience isn't.”



She picked up the folder and marched toward the door.



“Have a lovely lunch, Mr. Sterling.”



“I was.”



“I'm delighted to have improved your day.”



She left.



Daniel looked at Alexander.



“She's going to get you into trouble.”



Alexander adjusted his cuff.



“She won't last a month.”



Daniel nodded thoughtfully.



“That's what you said about the last three assistants.”



Alexander gave him a warning look.



Daniel picked up his sandwich.



“I suddenly remember an urgent appointment.”



He disappeared.



Alexander stood alone in the break room.



For a moment, he looked toward the door Arabella had just walked through.



Then, against his better judgement, he smiled.



Only for a second.



But if anyone had seen it, they would have known that something unusual was happening at Sterling Enterprises.



The office was changing.



And the reason was wearing expensive heels and carrying a handbag large enough to conceal an entire bakery.



The Conference Room Catastrophe



Arabella reached the conference room at 12:25 p.m.



The meeting was scheduled to begin at 12:30.



Perfect.



She was early.



She placed the folder on the table, checked the chairs, and looked at the large screen.



A presentation was already open.



She pressed a button on the remote.



The screen changed.



She pressed another.



A photograph appeared.



A very large photograph.



Of a cat.



Arabella blinked.



It was an orange cat wearing sunglasses.



Underneath it were the words:



I'M NOT LAZY. I'M ON ENERGY-SAVING MODE.



She stared at the screen.



Then she burst out laughing.



“How did you get here, little friend?”



She pressed the button again.



Another cat appeared.



This one was sitting inside a cardboard box.



Arabella laughed harder.



“Oh, I love this company.”



“Miss Williams.”



She stopped.



Slowly, she turned around.



Alexander stood in the doorway.



Behind him were six executives.



Every single one was staring at the screen.



The orange cat stared back.



Nobody spoke.



Arabella looked at Alexander.



Alexander looked at the cat.



Then he looked at her.



“Would you care to explain?”



Arabella straightened.



“Team-building exercise?”



One executive coughed.



Another looked down at the floor.



Alexander walked to the laptop and closed the presentation.



“Why is there a cat on my conference-room screen?”



Arabella hesitated.



“Perhaps it has a meeting?”



Daniel, standing at the back, turned toward the wall.



His shoulders were shaking.



Alexander slowly faced her.



“Office. Now.”



Arabella followed him out.



Once they were in his office, he closed the door.



She stood in front of his desk.



He folded his arms.



“Do you understand how important that meeting was?”



“Yes.”



“Do you understand that those executives flew in from another city?”



“Yes.”



“And do you understand that you displayed a cat wearing sunglasses?”



Arabella pressed her lips together.



“Yes.”



“Would you like to tell me why?”



She looked at him.



Then she lost the battle.



A laugh escaped.



Then another.



Within seconds, she was laughing so hard that she had to hold the edge of the desk.



Alexander stared at her in complete disbelief.



“Are you finished?”



She tried to answer.



Nothing came out.



She raised one finger, asking for a moment.



He waited.



Finally, she took a deep breath.



“I'm sorry.”



“Are you?”



“Yes.”



“Will it happen again?”



“No.”



He studied her.



Arabella looked genuinely apologetic now.



“I really am sorry. I thought I was changing the presentation screen. I didn't mean to interrupt your meeting.”



Alexander's expression softened by the smallest amount.



“Next time, ask Daniel for help.”



“Fine.”



“And don't touch anything you're unfamiliar with.”



She nodded.



Then she glanced at his laptop.



“Can I ask one question?”



“No.”



“Just one.”



“What?”



“Who saved the cat presentation?”



Alexander stared at her.



“Out.”



She walked toward the door, smiling.



“Thank you, boss.”



“Arabella.”



She turned.



“Yes?”



“Tomorrow. Seven forty-five.”



Her smile vanished.



“WHAT?”



“Your working day starts at eight. I suggest you learn how to arrive before it begins.”



She stared at him in horror.



“Seven forty-five? That's not a working day. That's a personal attack.”



“Good evening, Miss Williams.”



“It's one in the afternoon!”



“Then you have plenty of time to practise telling the time.”



She pointed at him.



“You're enjoying this.”



“Immensely.”



Arabella gasped.



“YOU ADMITTED TO HAVING FUN!”



Alexander's face immediately returned to its usual expression.



“Get out.”



She fled, laughing.



And for the second time that day, Alexander Sterling found himself fighting a smile.



He was losing.



Badly.



6:15 P.M. — An Unexpected Message



By the end of the day, Arabella had survived her first shift.



Barely.



She had ruined one presentation, spilled coffee on a financial report, accidentally deleted a spreadsheet, and been ordered out of Alexander's office twice.



But she had also completed her training notes, organised the next day's meeting schedule, and discovered three mistakes in a draft contract.



She wasn't entirely useless.



A fact she planned to remind Alexander of approximately every fifteen minutes.



As she collected her handbag, Daniel approached her desk.



“Still alive?”



“Physically, yes. Emotionally, I'm on life support.”



He laughed.



“You did better than I expected.”



Arabella smiled.



“Thank you.”



“Don't tell Alexander I said that.”



“Of course not.”



She paused.



“Unless he annoys me tomorrow.”



Daniel nodded.



“Fair enough.”



Arabella headed toward the lift.



Her phone vibrated.



A message from an unknown number appeared.



Alexander Sterling: Tomorrow. 7:45 a.m. Don't be late.



Arabella stopped walking.



She stared at the screen.



Then she typed:



Arabella: Good evening to you too, sunshine.



Three dots appeared.



Disappeared.



Appeared again.



Alexander Sterling: I am not sunshine.



Arabella grinned.



Arabella: Correct. You're more like a thunderstorm in a tailored suit.



His reply came almost immediately.



Alexander Sterling: Seven forty-five.



Arabella: I'll try my best.



Alexander Sterling: That isn't reassuring.



Arabella: Neither is your personality, but here we are.



This time, he didn't reply.



Arabella stepped into the lift, looking entirely too pleased with herself.



Upstairs, Alexander stared at his phone.



Daniel walked past his office and noticed his expression.



“Problem, sir?”



Alexander locked his phone.



“No.”



“Then why are you smiling at your screen?”



“I'm not.”



Daniel leaned closer.



“Is that a smile?”



“Daniel.”



“Understood. I see nothing.”



He walked away.



Alexander looked at the message one last time.



Thunderstorm in a tailored suit.



He should have been irritated.



Instead, he found himself wondering what ridiculous thing Arabella would say tomorrow.



That thought was far more dangerous than any business negotiation he'd ever faced.



Because Alexander Sterling could negotiate contracts worth millions, control an entire boardroom, and make experienced executives nervous with a single glance.



But one spoiled princess with terrible punctuality and an alarming sense of humour?



She was proving surprisingly difficult to manage.



And tomorrow was only going to get worse.



To be continued...