Chapter Six: First Day At Work
1157 Words
The morning sun streamed through the windows of Melinda’s apartment, casting a warm glow on the fresh outfit she’d laid out the night before. A crisp cream blouse, a tailored navy skirt, and a pair of modest heels—professional, polished, and just enough to make her feel like she belonged.
She stood before the mirror, brushing a final stroke of mascara onto her lashes. Her nerves fluttered, but beneath them was something steadier—resolve. She’d made it through the storm. Today marked the beginning of something new.
Her phone buzzed on the dresser.
Celine: You better be slaying that corporate queen look. I want selfies, updates and drama.
Melinda laughed softly and typed back: You’ll get the full report. Wish me luck.
She grabbed her bag, took one last look in the mirror, and whispered, “Let’s do this.”
—
Grey Enterprises towered above the city like a monument to ambition. Its sleek glass façade reflected the morning sky, and as Melinda stepped through the revolving doors, she felt the weight of its reputation settle on her shoulders. This wasn’t just a job. It was a chance to rewrite her story.
She approached the front desk, presented her ID, and was directed to the 42nd floor.
The elevator ride was smooth and silent, but her thoughts were anything but. She clutched her bag tightly, mentally rehearsing how she’d introduce herself, and how she would make a good impression.
She still couldn’t believe she’d been offered the role of Executive Secretary. It didn’t make sense, but she wasn’t about to question a miracle.
The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open to reveal a pristine hallway lined with frosted glass and soft lighting. A receptionist greeted her with a warm smile.
“Ms. Brooks? Right this way, Mr. Grey is expecting you.”
Melinda blinked. “Mr. Grey?”
“Yes. You’ll be working directly with him.”
Her stomach flipped. She hadn’t expected to meet the renowned CEO on her first day—let alone work under him. She followed the receptionist down the corridor, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor.
They stopped right in front of a pair of tall glass doors. The receptionist knocked once, then opened them.
“Mr. Grey, your new secretary is here.”
Melinda stepped inside.
The office was breathtaking—floor-to-ceiling windows framed the city skyline, and sleek furniture gave the space a modern, commanding presence. Behind a massive desk stood a man in a tailored black suit, his back to her as he looked out over the city.
He turned slowly.
Melinda’s breath caught, but not for the reason it should have.
Morrison Grey was striking. Tall, broad-shouldered, with sharp features and a gaze that could cut glass. His presence filled the room, quiet and powerful. But to Melinda, he was a stranger. A powerful one, yes—but unfamiliar.
She didn’t recognize him.
Not as the man from the bar. Not as the one whose bed she’d slipped out of just yesterday morning.
“Ms. Brooks,” he said, his voice smooth and commanding. “Welcome to Grey Enterprises.”
“Thank you, Mr. Grey,” she replied, her voice steady despite the sudden rush of nerves. “It’s an honor to be here.”
Morrison studied her, his expression unreadable. He’d known the moment she walked in. The same tousled hair, the same amber-flecked eyes that had haunted him since she’d vanished from that hotel room. But there was no flicker of recognition in her gaze. No blush of embarrassment. Nothing.
She didn’t know.
Interesting.
“Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the chair across from his desk.
Melinda sat, smoothing her skirt and clasping her hands in her lap.
“I reviewed your file,” Morrison said, his tone, cool and professional. “You’re young, but your background shows resilience. Adaptability. I value those qualities.”
“I appreciate the opportunity,” she replied. “I’ll do my best.”
“I expect discretion, efficiency and punctuality. You’ll be managing my schedule, correspondence, and internal communications. You’ll be in meetings with high-level clients and executives. This role requires focus.”
“I understand.” She replied with determination.
He leaned back in his chair, watching her for a moment longer. “You’ll report directly to me. Robin will get you set up.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He nodded once, then turned back to his computer screen, signaling the end of the meeting.
Melinda stood and exited the office, her heart pounding. She hadn’t expected him to be so… intense, or so magnetic. But she pushed the thought aside. This was work and she had a job to do.
Robin was waiting just outside.
“Come on,” He said with a smile. “Let’s get you settled.”
—
By mid-morning, Melinda was seated at a sleek desk just outside Morrison’s office, her computer humming softly as she navigated the company’s internal systems.
Robin had walked her through the basics, handed her a tablet loaded with schedules and contacts, and left her to get acquainted.
Melinda threw herself into the work. She organized Morrison’s calendar, responded to a dozen emails, and coordinated a last-minute investor call. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, her mind sharp and focused.
But at intervals, she would glance at the frosted glass doors behind her and feel a strange flutter in her chest. Morrison Grey was just on the other side. The man was a mystery, a legend in the business world. And now, somehow, her boss.
She shook her head, trying to focus. She couldn’t afford distractions, not now.
Her phone buzzed.
Celine: Status update. How’s the lair of the billionaire beast?
Melinda smiled and typed back: It’s… intense. I met him. He’s exactly what they say, cold, sharp and dangerously gorgeous.
Celine: Ugh. Of course he is. Just don’t fall for him. That man probably has a heart made of titanium.
Melinda laughed softly. Don’t worry. I’m here to work, not swoon.
Celine: Famous last words.
Melinda tucked her phone away, her smile lingering. She wouldn’t let herself get distracted, he had a job to do and future to build.
And as far as she was concerned, Morrison Grey was just another powerful man in a suit.
She had no idea he was the same man whose lips she’d kissed in a dark bar. No idea that he’d watched her walk away twice now—once from a hotel room, and once from his office—with the same quiet fascination.
And Morrison?
He sat behind his desk, watching her through the frosted glass, a slow smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.
She didn’t remember him.
But he remembered everything.
He gently squeezed the bills in his pocket, the same notes that Melinda left for him.
But this time, he wasn’t letting her walk away so easily.
---
- Writer
