The CEO'S Secretary

An Envelope.

Chapter 3.

The loud cheers from the crowd jerked Isabella back to reality. She got lost in shock for a moment. Her eyes fell on their mold-sized heads, then at the man that scampered towards her. Run Izzy…. Run! She shook her head to shut out the voice in it. Her thunderous heartbeat was enough terror. Run to where? He was a client, and it was only proper she gave him an audience. Isabella glanced around in search. “f**k!” She cursed. Her mask was probably lying on the dressing table, now she needed it the most. The crowd cheered louder as the man drew closer to the stage. He was close enough for Isabella to see if he was what she dreaded, but no, she didn’t have the luxury to look him in the face now. It was that moment or never. She needed no one to tell her. Without a second thought, she nudged the MC, and flew the stairs down the stage.

“Argh!” she groaned, but didn’t stop.

“Excuse me…” She chanted as she pushed through the crowd. The noise from them became even louder and Isabella wondered what went on behind her. She wouldn’t dare to look, never.

“Hold on!” The man barked and Isabella raced faster. She was pushing everything in her way now.

“Sorry!...” she said a few times.

The dressing room was in sight now and she aimed at it in faster strides.

“C’mon Izzy!” she urged.

Getting to the door, she grabbed the knob and disappeared into the room, followed by the door bang.

“Whoa! Easy”, startled Lisa snapped. Her hand had shaken to stain her cheek with her lipstick.

Isabella, without saying a word, walked past her into the convenience and Lisa followed with her eyes. Her glare lingered at the door after Isabella had disappeared from it. She sighed then looked in the mirror to fix the mess.

Isabella sat on the toilet seat. Her heart raced, and she tried to catch some breath.

“This isn’t good,” she said, at the thought of having to run from her boss every night if indeed he had discovered the club.

But what could he possibly be doing there?

The company was facing an enormous crisis for a new CEO to spare time to party on a weekday.

She tried recalling the face she had seen earlier. She wasn’t so sure now.

It doesn’t matter, does it? I escaped anyway. Her mind defended, then she made to get up.

“Ouch!“ She winced. Her ankle sprained and she had totally forgotten. It appeared swollen and all red now. Isabella rubbed her temples in frustration. An injury she wasn’t sure was deserved. The idea of Claude Lincoln, the man she had met earlier that day coming to pulse night life on a Tuesday, was absurd. Isabella gritted her teeth in anger. The day wasn’t over, and she had made a fool of herself for the second time. How pathetic!

*

Isabella was early and seated before Claude came in. The previous night incident still lived rent free in her mind. She was certain she had seen wrongly, but on the safe side, she avoided her boss. She had worn palazzo pants, bigger than her petite size, just to be sure her ankle didn't give her out. Her limps could be the traitor but she was good at managing it.

“Psst, Izzy,” Kate called to Isabella over from her desk.

“What’s up?” Izzy answered, still typing.

“You know that budget plan for the employees? The one Mr. Richard made? The new boss scraped it”

“What?!” It came out louder than she meant for it to

“Keep it down, will you? It’s not official yet.”

“Why would he do that? It’s a basic employee welfare bonus.”

“Apparently, Mr. Richard has been using that method to siphon money from the company for years.”

“No way. Seriously? Mr. Richard is not that type of person,” she said, wide-eyed in disbelief.

“Yea... but here_"

“Ms. Campbell” Claude stopped right in front of her desk

“Yes, sir?” She stood up so she could face him squarely. There was no way he was coming to give her good news.

“I believe you are in charge of the financial reports involving Josh Templeman’s water plant project”

“Yes, I am”

“How do you explain an ink stain on a document for a project proposal?"

He opened a page in the file she had submitted before getting off work the day before. There was a small dark ink blotch on the paper.

“The printer malfunctioned sir. That is hardly my fault.”

“Oh really? Then whose fault?” She didn’t reply. Am I to repeat myself before I get an answer?"

It was Tony’s fault. Tony was a maintenance guy in his fifties, whose job was to make sure everything was working just right. But he slept half the day and smoked the other half. But she couldn’t rat Tony out. The man needed the job to pay his granddaughter’s school fees. Plus, Tony was nice. He still hadn’t told anyone about finding her smoking in the stairwell.

"I... Don't know what to answer to that.. sorry. I’ll redo it”. She said and collected the file from him and held it to her chest.

She avoided eye contact with him all this while they stood in each other’s faces. He glared at her with those piercing blue eyes. She won't dare look into them. The last time she did, it left a warm and fuzzy feeling. His eyes are stunning! The awkward silence dragged, and Isabella felt her knees weak. Her eye fell on his collar, down to his neckline. His top buttons were undone, exposing his bare, hairy, hard rock chest. She relished the sight before her.

“One more strike, Ms. Campbell and you are out,” He informed her. “You can take that as a threat,” he added under his breath, so only she would hear him before he walked away.

Isabella sunk into her chair and glared after him, if only he wasn't so gorgeous. She looked around and everybody quickly pretended to be doing something else, but she knew they had been watching.

“I would watch out if I were you, Izzy. I think he hates you,” Kate offered, helpful as always.

“No s**t, Sherlock” Izzy rolled her eyes and stared hard at the glass partition that divided CEO Lincoln and the rest of the world.

*

Goodbye Izzy,” a group of people greeted her, and she replied and got back to work. Claude had given her a shitload of numbers to run and now she would probably be late for her shift at the club. The man was getting on her nerves, and she was sure she could glare at him to a fault. Or maybe look into him too and jail him alongside his dad. The thought brought a smile to her face.

“If you’re done daydreaming, Ms. Campbell, you can leave now”

Her eyes brightened. “But I’ve not finished running the numbers.

“Do it tomorrow,” He started towards the elevator. “I have a feeling you’re the annoying type who could sue the company for working overtime without pay,” he explained and waved as the elevator closed.

Isabella was about to leave when she noticed an envelope had fallen from Claude’s file to the floor. She picked it up and stared at the sealed piece in her hand for a moment. It seemed confidential and should just be in the boss’s possession. Isabella grabbed her bag and headed for the door hastily. She ran to the elevator and tapped the arrow down several times. 10 seconds gone, and it didn’t open, she chose the stairs. Isabella wondered why she was so eager to hand over the envelope, but something in her head teased her about wanting a tick.

“Don’t be ridiculous” she chuckled, off her thoughts while maintaining her pace.

After running down 6 flights of stairs, she felt parched, but still made it to the garage. Just in time to see Claude get into his car and start the ignition. “Mr. Lincoln!” She yelled, calling to him, and he turned to her for a millisecond, then smirked and gave her a salute.

“No, sir, wait” she asked, racing towards him. He waited till she was very close to him, then put the car in gear.

“Office hours are officially over, Isabella. I know you’re bored and you should know I have a life to live,” he told her, then drove off, leaving her shell-shocked in the garage. This man is a lunatic, Izzy declared in her head as she watched his car leave the basement. A gorgeous lunatic, but a lunatic regardless.

“Just when I thought I misjudged him,” she said and looked down at the envelope again. Now she felt stupid. Her poor ankle bore the stress.

Curiosity crawled her shoulders and she flip opened the envelope the next moment before she had the chance to rethink. She withdrew a paper from it and her eyes popped from their balls at the content.

“Wait! What!?...”

Isabella glanced around, then realized how much of a show she had displayed for her unexpected spectators. Few of her colleagues were still around for heaven knows what. They had stuck their heads out of their car windows with their faces lit in wonder.

Isabella gave an “oh never mind” bow with a light smile, hoping that would do as much, before looking down at the paper in her hand. A slight squeeze on the paper was due, so she gave in to the urge. She gritted her teeth in frustration.

"Who the hell drafted this?" She gave a quick glance around and dashed out the next second.

Mr. Lincoln! Wait!”