Mr. Brockwell

CHAPTER THREE

*Calista*

After Ivan slapped me across the face, he tried apologizing and I locked myself in the bathroom. I waited until he fell asleep and then I fell asleep on our couch. I couldn't talk to him or even look at him, for that matter. I never thought he would hit me and this came as quite a surprise to me. After spending a few hours in the bathroom, I decided that something had to be said. I can't forget about this, not like I had with so many other things. This was different..

I woke up with heavy eyes, willing myself to get ready for the day. Luckily, Ivan was already gone and had left a bouquet of red roses with a note. The note was short and sweet, but most certainly not enough. All he said was 'I'm so sorry, babe.' That's it? Some red roses and a little apology, that's all he thinks it takes to make up to me? It's just another slap in the face.

Dropping the note where I found it, I rushed into the bathroom and took a shower. When I step out, I brush through my wet hair and stare into the reflection in front of me. I gasped when I saw three small welts line my cheek from where Ivan slapped me. Son of a b***h! He left a mark!

My eyes start to water at the memory, but I quickly wipe them clear. I force myself to forget, while I dry my hair and style it. Next, I apply a thick layer of concealer over the welts. Normally I don't wear this much makeup, but I guess I am today. I apply the usual mascara and some blush. Though I hid the welts well, it's still obvious at a close glance.

I decided on a nice white blouse paired with gray dress pants and white heels. Gathering my purse and red overcoat, I scurried out the door and into the elevator. I put my jacket on in the elevator and stepped outside, along the bustling streets of New York City. I hailed for a cab and directed him towards Brockwell Investments, my new workplace.

I gave the cab driver money and shut the door, standing in front of the mirrored building. It's gorgeous and extremely tall, so much so that when I look all the way up I feel like I'll lose my balance. So, I don't do that, instead I walk straight towards the entrance. My heels clicked against the pavement and matched my heart rate, until I threw open the main door and stepped inside.

Tara sat at her round desk and greeted me with a forced smile when I stepped inside. I smiled back, mine equally as fabricated. She pulls out a folder and hands it over to me, popping the bubblegum in her mouth. She begrudgingly hands me a pen as well, rolling her eyes and gesturing behind her.

"Take the elevator to the fifth floor, that's Mr. Brockwell's office." She mutters.

"Thanks." I condescendingly smirked at her, before walking towards the elevators.

I can't stand that girl! I don't know what her problem is with me, but I definitely don't like it. She doesn't even know me and she's already treating me like she dislikes me. Women and their drama. It's never something I've cared to deal with, but not something I can't seem to escape.

The elevator doors opened to the narrow hallway and I walked down to the first door on the left, Mr. Brockwell's office. The door is slightly ajar and I lightly knock with my knuckles, before opening the door. Mr. Brockwell was sitting at his desk, shuffling through papers, when I walked in. It isn't until I shut the door behind me and the click that draws his attention.

Mr. Brockwell was a good looking man, to say the least! I knew he was a little older than me, judging by his demeanor. His dark brown hair looked somewhat black, probably because of the contrast between that and his light gray eyes. His face was clean shaved, revealing a small scar right below his gorgeous mouth.

"Good morning, Calista." Mr. Brockwell greets me and motions for me to sit in the red velvet chair across from him.

"Good morning, sir." I said, sitting down with a smile.

"Today is a good day for you to start, because it's not as busy as usual." He said and pulled out a large square leatherback organizer, setting it in front of me and opening it for today's date. "There are only three meetings, which gives me time to give you a tour and explain what you'll be doing."

"Sounds great." I responded, nodding.

"Alright, the first meeting will begin in one hour. I already know who I'm meeting with, but that will be part of your job in the future. I'll need to be briefed before all meetings. I meet with a lot of people and I don't want anyone to feel like they're forgotten about. Therefore, sometimes I need reminding of who these people are." Mr. Brockwell started and I looked up to meet his eyes, nodding to show that I understood.

I noticed Mr. Brockwell paused and studied me for a moment, though I'm unsure why. Then I remembered the welt on the side of my cheek and I turned my face away from him, steeling the sight of my abuse from his eyes. This moment of silence was enough to stop my heart from beating and, for a split second, I thought it did. Mr. Brockwell saw my wound..

"Tell me, Calista, how old are you?" Mr. Brockwell asked, his voice soft and comforting.

"I'm Twenty-one.." I answered, my voice sounding as battered as I felt.

"Have you ever had a job like this before?" He asks and I raise an eyebrow, what kind of question is that?

"No, sir... does it show?" I asked in return, causing him to erupt with laughter.

"Not at all," he brought his laughter down to a light chuckle, "I was just wondering."

"Alright.." I muttered, avoiding his piercing eyes.

"So, for this upcoming meeting there are a few things I'd like you to focus on. I want you to take notes on the man I'm meeting with. Note down things he likes and dislikes, as well as the numbers he throws at me. Otherwise, I've got everything else under control." Mr. Brockwell winks at me and my heart thumps loudly, releasing the butterflies in my stomach.

"That sounds easy enough." I nodded and smiled, pulling the large leatherback organizer into my lap.

"I'll give you some time to look through that," he said and stood from his chair, "It will be your personal organizer, so you may bring it home with you as needed."

"This thing is huge..." I muttered, lifting it to my chest.

"There's a lot of information in that thing, so that's probably why." Mr. Brockwell smirks and my knees buckle, just as I'm standing from the chair I was sitting in.

"Careful," Mr. Brockwell said and reached his hand to grab my arm, "I guess it is kind of heavy, huh?"

"I'm also a little clumsy," I admitted, and felt my cheeks blushing, "I'm so sorry.."

"Come on, follow me." Mr. Brockwell firmly states and I follow him without another word.

We entered a conference room on the third floor, where he instructed me to sit at the back of the room. I set the heavy binder on the table in front of me and began shuffling through everything inside. There was a calender, an organizer for notations and reminders, plus tons of files. There were at least a dozen files with people's pictures, I'm guessing clients? It was weird though, having a plethora of information about someone I hadn't met yet.

A random man brought in coffee and cups, even offered me some, to which I accepted. Then, the man of the hour arrived. In walked a man with jet black hair that was slicked back on his head. His brown eyes were menacing and there were small bags below them, giving me the idea that he was in his early forties. He was wearing a black trench coat and shrugged it off at the door, walking in with a lit cigar hanging out of his mouth. He smiled and sat down at the table across from Mr. Brockwell, nodding to each other. Then his eyes fell on me and they remained for a while, until Mr. Brockwell started the meeting.

"Thanks for coming, Dominic." Mr. Brockwell said, shuffling through his papers.

"Who is that, over there?" Dominic asked, pointing towards me.

"That's my new assistant, Dominic. She'll be sitting in on my meetings from now on, get used to her." Mr. Brockwell firmly noted, staring at Dominic with suspicious eyes.

"Oh, that won't be a problem." Dominic said, licking his lips and sending my stomach plummeting.

Mr. Brockwell glanced at me for a brief moment, before his gaze returned to Dominic. They discussed their business in a way that I couldn't understand what they were even talking about. All I knew was, I had to note down what Mr. Brockwell asked me to. So I did. Now, Dominic didn't mention too awfully much, but I did manage to get the small inuendos. He's a man with expensive tastes, he enjoys rubies and sapphires the most. He'll buy anything if it's over a million dollars, just to say he owns it. A man with an ego the size of China-

"Calista?" Mr. Brockwell asked, breaking me from my reverie.

"I'm sorry, sir. What did you ask?" I confessed with a furious blush.

"I said that I was sorry for Dominic's behavior," Mr. Brockwell sighs and bites his cheek, "He always hits on beautiful women."

Beautiful? Does that mean Mr. Brockwell thinks I'm beautiful, too? My heart is doing summersaults inside my chest and I muster a smile, containing the excitement that's erupting inside of me. Mr. Brockwell smiled in return, standing from his chair and motioning for me to join him. I did and stood beside him, waiting for him to walk out of the conference room, but he didn't. Instead, he turns toward me and stares at my face. I don't realize that I'm holding my breath, because we're just a few inches apart and he'll be able to visibly notice the welt on my cheek.

Just as his eyes landed on my cheek, I took a couple steps back and smiled at him. Holding the heavy leatherback binder against my chest. Mr. Brockwell gives an indescribable expression before gathering his belongings and we leave the conference room.

I followed him back to his office, because I didn't know where else to go.

"You can leave your notations on my desk," Mr. Brockwell states and sits back behind his desk, "You'll do that after every meeting."

"Yes, sir." I said, setting my notes on his desk as requested.

"Very good, Calista. I wish I could give you a tour, but I'm swamped with paperwork, so I've asked Bonnie to show you around. You haven't met her yet, but she's one of my accountants." Mr. Brockwell says and grabs the notes I wrote down, examining them immediately.

"No worries, sir. I understand, you're a busy man."

"Hmm.. Something like that." He mutters and a knock on his office door interrupts our conversation. "Come in!"

"Hello, Mr. Brockwell." The woman said, entering the room.

She was wearing a green and plaid suit with black pumps. Her hair was chocolate brown and naturally curly, bouncing just above her shoulders. Her smile was pleasant and seemed genuine.

"Thanks for coming, Bonnie. This is Calista, my new assistant. Can you please show her around and give her the rundown of the place?" Mr. Brockwell asked and Bonnie smiled immediately.

"I'd be happy to!" She said and turned toward me, "I'm Bonnie Sloan, nice to meet you."

I shake her hand and she leads me out of Mr. Brockwell's office without another word. Bonnie's excitement is contagious and I can't help but join her enthusiasm, as she shows me around the building. It's a large building and half of it is off limits, but that's better for me because then I'm less likely to get lost.

Once the tour was over, I returned to Mr. Brockwell's office and find him buried deep in paperwork. He lifts his head and stops what he's doing when our eyes meet. He walks over to me and, with a gentle smile, hands the heavy binder to me.

"The next meeting will start soon and you'll be taking the same notes." Mr. Brockwell said, and I nodded.

The rest of the day went by fast, as I took notes from his meetings and handed them over afterwards. I wasn't sure if my notes were going to be of any use to Mr. Brockwell, but I hope they were. I wanted this job more than the others, and I would do anything to keep it.

"That's it for today, Calista. You're free to go." Mr. Brockwell said, after we returned to his office.

"Thank you, sir." I said and turned for the door, until his voice stopped me.

"Calista?" He said and I turned my head over my shoulder to glance back, "I'd like to take you out to dinner to get to know you better. I usually do it when someone's new with the company.."

"Y-yeah," I stuttered and felt my cheeks blushing, "That sounds great."

"Alright, we'll discuss the details tomorrow morning. Have a good night, Calista.."

"You too, Mr. Brockwell."

As I'm leaving his office, I can feel my heart patter and rattle the bones in my chest. He is my boss, nothing more! I can't believe my heart is acting like he is more than that. Then again, is it just my heart? I caught myself admiring his facial features and toned body under his business suit- Damnit, Calista! You can't have a crush on your boss, no way. That's extremely unprofessional, I need to reel it in.

When I returned home, it was already a little after five in the evening and Ivan was home watching television. I entered through the front door and passed through the living room, to enter our bedroom. I started changing from my work clothes, when I heard Ivan enter the room. I turned to look at him and noticed he was holding a bottle of whiskey in his right hand. Every time Ivan drinks, his monstrous side comes out and I'm usually the punching bag.

"You're late." Ivan grunted, stepping towards me.

"It was my first day, there was a lot to learn." I muttered, quickly changing into my big T-shirt and jogging pants.

"So, I get to come home to an empty dinner table every night from now on? Is that what you're saying?" Ivan growls and stands in front of me, blocking my path to the bedroom door.

"Sometimes, yeah, we'll order out or something. It's not a big deal, Ivan." I groaned, trying to push past him.

"Not a big deal.." Ivan repeats my words through clenched teeth and wraps his hand around my neck, "Not a big deal? I'm your man, Calista! Your primary job in life is to make sure I'm happy! Do I look f*****g happy to you?"

I'm speechless, not that I could respond anyway with his hands wrapped around my throat, but his words left me speechless! I don't know who this man is... it certainly isn't the one I met a year ago and started dating!

He grinds his teeth and something inside of his head makes him drop me to the floor, where I lay gasping for air on the ground. Ivan leaves the bedroom and returns to watching TV, like nothing ever happened. Once I've caught my breath and gathered my bearings, I peel myself off the floor and retreat to the bathroom. Standing in the shower for what felt like hours, motionless and numb to the world. I don't even know what to think at this point, let alone how to handle the situation.

I love Ivan, but lately that love has started to fade and it's being replaced with contempt. I don't like who he is becoming and I won't tolerate being his punching bag, literally. However, I also find myself afraid of him. The only place I have to go is Quinn's, and she doesn't even have space for me. It's enough to rack my brain for the rest of the night, until once again I wait for Ivan to fall asleep and then allow myself the opportunity to rest.