5- His PA

Araceli's Pov

The dull ache in my feet had graduated to full-on screaming as I walked through the office in these ridiculous heels. Dancing in heels might be second nature to me, but working in them for hours? Torture.

Starting a Monday morning like this wasn’t exactly a dream. Fiona, Zayn’s former PA, had done her best to cram weeks of training into two hours, but nothing could have prepared me for my boss’s yelling. Zayn Vanderbilt is one hell of a grumpy, arrogant boss. He is so bossy. I sighed, rolling my shoulders back. "Guess that’s why he’s the boss, Araceli," I muttered internally, trying to stay sane.

At the reception desk, I handed Valerie a stack of documents Zayn had asked me to pass along...I mean, ordered me to pass along. “Hey,” I said, my smile as sweet as I could muster, “Mr. Vanderbilt asked me to give these to you. He said you would know what to do with them.”

Valerie’s eyes shot daggers at me as she snatched the papers from my hand. “Of course, I would. Some of us are competent enough to handle our jobs without… 'extracurricular' activities.”

I froze, her words slicing into the air between us. I wanted to fire back but decided against it. She wasn’t worth my energy. I turned on my heel to walk away.

“You know, a few lap dances won’t secure this job for long,” she called out.

My steps faltered, her jab hitting its mark. I slowly turned, flashing her the sweetest smile I could muster. “Sweetheart,” I began, my tone dripping, “unlike you, I won’t be needing to keep this job for long. So please, enjoy it.” With a wink, I blew her a kiss and walked away.

How did she know about me dancing? Zayn wouldn’t have told her, she probably dug into my life. Whatever. Let her cook in her jealousy.

Back in my office, I had barely returned to my work when a knock interrupted me. I frowned. Zayn usually called through the intercom if he needed something. “Come in.”

The door creaked open, revealing a young man who looked to be in his early twenties. His shy smile was almost captivating as he stepped in. “Hi, I’m David,” he said, extending a hand.

I shook it. “Araceli.”

David pushed his glasses up, his cheeks tinged pink. “Sorry for barging in. I noticed you are new here and thought, maybe, you would like a lunch companion?”

I glanced at the clock. It was lunchtime. I had lost track of time. “Thank you, David, that’s very thoughtful...”

“Please don’t say no,” he interrupted, his tone and eyes pleading.

I chuckled. “I wasn’t going to. I just need a few minutes to wrap up.”

His shoulders relaxed as he smiled. “Great. I will wait.” He sat on one of the chairs, pulling out his phone to busy himself as I tidy up.

After finishing my last task, I made sure to sent the documents to Zayn. I stood to my feet, wiping invisible wrinkles off my black skirt, I grabbed my wallet from my bag. “I’m ready.”

David led the way, holding the door open for me. “There’s a new restaurant nearby. Their menu looked great online. Would you like to check it out?”

“Wherever you lead, I will follow,” I said with a playful shrug.

As we walked, he asked, “What department are you in?”

“I’m actually the boss’s PA,” I replied.

David nearly tripped over his own feet. “You are his PA?!”

“Why? Do I not look the part?” I teased, keeping a straight face.

His eyes widened. “No, no, that’s not what I meant! I just...”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Relax, David, I’m only kidding.”

He narrowed his eyes at me, grinning. “You scared me for a second.”

By the time we reached the restaurant, we were laughing like old friends. The warm ambiance, green plants, and soft lighting immediately put me at ease.

“What does my princess want to eat?” he asked, grinning mischievously.

I raised an eyebrow. “Princess?”

“It’s just what I call all the women in my life,” he said with a dramatic wave of his hand. "Nothing to worry about."

“Oh, so there are many of us?” I teased. I'm definitely enjoying this.

“Just my mom and sisters. And… you, I guess.” He flushed.

I laughed again, letting the topic drop. Over lunch, we chatted about work, hobbies, and everything in between. The food was divine, each bite bursting with flavor. I lost count of how many times I closed my eyes in bliss.

After lunch, we stopped for ice cream, strawberry and vanilla for me, chocolate for him. Sitting outside under an umbrella, I savored each spoonful.

“We should head back,” I said, glancing at the time.

“We still have fifteen minutes,” he whined, pouting like a child.

“David,” I warned, trying to keep a straight face.

“Admit you don’t love spending time with me,” he teased.

Rolling my eyes, I stood. “I love my paycheck more. Let’s go.”

Back at the office, the elevator dinged as we reached the top floor. “Can I drive you home after work?” David asked as we stepped out.

I opened my mouth to decline, but a deep voice cut in. “No, you can’t.”

I turned to see Zayn leaning against the wall, arms crossed.

David's back visible tensed, a trembling finger reaching for his glasses as he pokes it in place.

"Good afternoon Mr. Zayn." He greeted, trying to keep the trembling off his voice.

"I don't remember asking for you David, so it beats me to know why you are on this floor of the building." His voice was cold, his face, hard.

David paled. "I'm so sorry Sir, it won't repeat itself again." He turned to me, baring sparing me a glance, “Uh, I will see you later, Araceli,” he mumbled, retreating into the elevator.

“I don’t remember giving you the right to dictate who drives me home,” I said, crossing my arms.

“I don’t care who drives you home,” Zayn replied, his tone icy. “But don’t go around flirting with my employees.”

Flirting? My jaw dropped, different emotions running through me. How dare him? “I wasn’t...”

“Enough,” he snapped, brushing past me toward the elevator. “There’s a stack of papers on my desk. Sort them before sending them to the various teams.” The elevator doors closed, leaving me fuming.

Back in his office, I tackled the documents, my mind replaying the interaction. By the time I finished, it was evening, and I was ready to leave.

The parking lot was quiet as I walked to the exit, my feet aching from the long day. A car honked, and I turned to see Zayn’s sleek black car nearby.

The glass rolled down, his blue eyes locking onto my brown ones.

“Get in,” he said, his voice firm.

“Thank you, sir, but I can get home on my own,” I replied, trying to keep my tone polite.

“I said, get in, Araceli.”

With a sigh, I walked to the passenger side, sinking into the luxurious seat.

“Address,” he muttered.

I told him, and he entered it into the GPS. The ride was quiet, the soft hum of the engine and gentle music filling the space.

I stared out the window as he drove, too tired to talk. His attitude towards David was belittling and so uncalled for.

When we arrived, he parked in front of my building, his eyes scanning the area. I couldn’t read his expression, it was blank, as always.

“Thank you for the ride,” I said, reaching for the door handle.

“Araceli.” His voice stopped me.

I turned to face him, but before I could say anything, his hand gently gripped my shoulder, spinning me toward him. His eyes held mine, something unspoken swirling in their depths.

Time seemed to pause as he leaned in, his breath warm against my lips. His gaze flickered to my mouth, then back to my eyes.

“Get out, Araceli,” he whispered, his voice low and strained.

Heart racing, I quickly exited the car, feeling his eyes on me as I walked to my apartment. I didn’t dare look back.