Tied To my Billionaire Boss

Chapter six

There should really be a medal for surviving the second day of a new job. The first day is all adrenaline and friendly smiles. But the second day? That’s when reality sets in.

By the time I reached Fletcher Corp’s lobby, my new-employee glow had dimmed to something closer to “Why did I think I was qualified for this?” The revolving doors nearly swallowed me whole, but I managed to make it through with my dignity (and all my limbs) intact.

The elevator was stuffed with a dozen people who all looked like they were on their way to buy yachts. I tried to look equally yacht-worthy while silently praying no one could hear my stomach growling. Who starts work at eight a.m. anyway? Masochists, that’s who.

When I got to my floor, Priya was already at the communal coffee machine, pumping espresso shots like a barista how does she manage to look put together. She looked up and waved me over.

“Aria! Welcome back to hell.”

“Thanks,” I said, dropping my bag onto my desk. “I thought maybe it would be slightly less hellish today, but I see optimism is useless.”

Priya grinned and handed me a cup. “Drink. You’ll need it. Dominic’s calendar is insane this week, and somehow that makes our lives insane too.”

I took a sip and immediately burned my tongue. Me: zero, coffee: one.

Aaron rolled his chair over from his desk, already holding three different highlighters. “She’s being dramatic,” he said. “It’s not insane. It’s just… very, very, very busy.”

“Totally different,” I deadpanned.

Aaron smirked. “Exactly.”

Leo, the quiet one, gave me a little nod from his desk but didn’t say anything. I wasn’t sure if he liked me, tolerated me, or thought I was an alien who’d infiltrated Fletcher Corp. Hard to tell.

By 9:00 a.m., my inbox looked like it had been attacked by a swarm of locusts. There were at least twenty unread emails with subject lines that made me want to throw my computer out the nearest window.

URGENT: Need revised deck by noon.

Follow-up: Client call rescheduled.

Re: Re: Re: Did we confirm the budget for Q4??

I clicked one open and immediately wished I hadn’t. There were spreadsheets. Dozens of them. Spreadsheets that mocked me with their complicated formulas and color-coded cells.

I glanced helplessly at Priya. “Um… is this mine?”

She peeked over my shoulder. “Yep. Welcome to corporate. You’ll get used to it.”

“I have a degree in computer science," I muttered. “Not advanced spreadsheet wizardry.”

“Same thing,” Aaron said, breezing past with his highlighters.Why does he need so many highighters

I spent the next hour trying not to cry over tables. At one point, I hit a wrong button and my entire document turned into gibberish. I panicked, slapped random keys, and accidentally hit Reply All on an email chain with fifteen executives cc’d.

“Smooth,” Priya said when she saw my face turn white. “Classic new-hire move. Don’t worry, we’ve all done it.”

Aaron leaned back in his chair. “Yep. First week I was here, I sent a meme to the entire finance department. It was a cat in a tie. They did not find it funny.”

Leo finally spoke, his voice low. “I once accidentally attached my grocery list to a quarterly report.”

We all stared at him.

“That’s… actually kind of iconic,” I said.

Leo shrugged and went back to his work.

*****

At noon, Priya dragged me to the cafeteria again. The place was swarming with employees, all looking way too polished for people about to eat soup. We grabbed trays and sat down at a table near the window.

“So,” Priya said between bites of salad, “how was your first day at home debrief?”

I stabbed a piece of lettuce with my fork. “Stacy called, obviously. Stacy’s my bestfriend. She thinks my boss is cute. Which is fine. Except he’s also terrifying.”

Aaron, who’d joined us with a burger big enough to qualify as a weapon, raised an eyebrow. “Both things can be true.”

“Yeah, but like..” I lowered my voice. “Isn’t it illegal to be that good-looking in a professional environment? He walked past my desk and I forgot how to type for a full ten seconds.”

Priya snorted. “Oh, you’ll get used to it. We all did. Eventually.”

“Or not,” Aaron muttered into his burger.

I groaned and put my head on the table. “I’m doomed.”

******

The afternoon was worse.

Amanda, the terrifying secretary, appeared at my desk holding a folder I do not want to touch that folder “These need to be formatted and on Mr. Fletcher’s desk by three.”

I took it with shaking hands. “Of course. Totally doable.”

It was not doable. The documents were sixty pages long. Sixty. By page twelve, my eyes had glazed over. By page thirty, I was hallucinating. At one point, I think I formatted a paragraph in the wrong font and almost left it that way out of spite.

At 2:55, I ran the finished stack to Amanda’s desk, panting like I’d just completed a marathon. She glanced through them with the kind of expression usually reserved for murder suspects.

“Not bad,” she said finally. “Mr. Fletcher will review them.”

I nearly cried tears of relief.

When I got back to my desk, Priya gave me a thumbs up. “See? Survived another one.”

“Barely,” I said, collapsing into my chair.

******

By five o’clock, I was convinced corporate life was slowly killing me.

Everyone else packed up, chatting about happy hour plans. I pretended to organize my desk so I didn’t look like a total loser with nowhere to go. My inbox was still full, my heels had destroyed my feet, and my brain felt like oatmeal.

As I gathered my things, I glanced toward Dominic’s office. The glass walls glowed with the city lights, and there he was, still at his desk, still working like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Of course. He probably didn’t even know what five o’clock meant. He prolly was the kind of man who thought sleep was optional and vacation days were for the weak.

I tore my gaze away and headed for the elevator.

********

Back home, Stacy was waiting on my couch with Chinese takeout.

“Room service!” she announced, holding up a carton of lo mein.

“You’re the best,” I said, dropping my bag and collapsing beside her.

She handed me chopsticks. “So. Second day. Spill.”

I took a mouthful of noodles and groaned. “ I almost died formatting a report.”

Stacy laughed. “Did you at least get to ogle the hot boss again?”

“Unfortunately, yes. I probably looked like an i***t”

“Well,” she said, slurping a noodle, “better be an i***t than be invisible.”

I glared at her. “Not helping.”

We ate in companionable silence for a while. Eventually, she nudged me.

“You’re doing fine, Aria. It’s a new job. You’ll find your rhythm. And hey, if you accidentally fall into your boss’s arms, just make sure I get the details.”

I groaned again and threw a fortune cookie at her.