chapter 7

CECILY

PA?

I can't be his PA.

Who does he think he is, ordering me around as though I'm supposed to jump whenever he snaps his fingers?

I stare at my reflection as I dress, trying to imagine how I'm supposed to face that man again.

This is ridiculous, Cecily. Absolutely ridiculous.

I definitely lose my job today. How do I explain my disappearance yesterday?

My work phone beeps on the hotel dressing table. I pick it up and check the screen.

His schedule for the day.

Of course. The devil has a schedule.

And judging by the time, he's probably already on his way.

Isn't he angry enough already?

*******

---

"Good morning, Mr. Sanchez."

His expression remains stone-cold.

As expected, he doesn't respond. Instead, he looks me up and down as though I'm an object, then walks into his office without another word.

What a piece of shit.

The agreement clearly states that I must be available at least thirty minutes before his arrival. Thankfully, I arrive on time.

"Why are you just standing there?"

"Waiting for you, sir." I force a smile.

He glances at me with what looks like disgust.

"If you have to wait for me to tell you what to do, you're already behind. Schedule?"

I straighten, gripping my tablet.

"You have a ten a.m. meeting with the legal team, a twelve p.m. review with Finance—"

"Too slow."

I stop.

My fingers tighten around the tablet.

Who does this man think he is? God?

I draw a slow breath and try again, this time speaking faster.

"You have a ten a.m. meeting with Legal, a twelve p.m. review with Finance, and a two p.m. investor call."

"Too fast."

I stare at him.

You've got to be kidding me.

"I need you to find a middle ground between slow and useless." He enunciates every word, making sure each one lands like an insult.

The nerve of this man!

I take another breath, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing me lose my temper.

"You have a ten a.m. meeting with Legal, a twelve p.m. review with Finance, and a two p.m. investor call," I repeat, carefully controlling my pace.

"Hmm. I suppose you'll learn eventually."

He pauses, his gaze settling on me.

"And in case you're still confused about what you do here, let me make it clear. You work for me from Monday to Friday. You stay at my house during the week. You may leave by five p.m. on Fridays, provided you have somewhere else to stay, and you're expected back by seven thirty on Monday mornings."

He smirks.

My stomach tightens.

Provided you have somewhere else to stay.

He might as well announce to the entire office that I'm homeless.

Son of a devil.

"Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"You don't guess. You don't make assumptions. You follow instructions to the T. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Reschedule the meeting with Legal. Move Finance to one p.m."

I quickly make a note on my tablet.

"And you."

I look up. "Me?"

"What is that smell?"

I blink.

"Sir?"

"Your perfume." He wrinkles his nose slightly. "It smells like a bad day. Stop wearing it."

For a moment, I'm too stunned to respond.

My perfume?

He's complaining about my perfume?

The sheer audacity!

I press my lips together, refusing to let the tears threatening to gather in my eyes fall.

"I'm sorry, sir."

"Don't apologise. Change it. Better yet, stop using it entirely."

"Yes, sir."

He looks at me with such disdain that I begin to wonder whether I personally offend him in a past life. Of course, aside from the one we're both aware of.  His gaze shifts away, settling on something beyond me, as though even looking at me requires more effort than I'm worth.

A shiver runs down my spine.

"Never stand around waiting to be corrected," he says. "Anticipate what I need. Be prepared. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Now, get out."

I turn towards the door.

"Thank you, sir."

"Don't get out."

I freeze mid-stride.

What?

Before I can ask what he means, he walks past me and leaves the office.

I remain rooted to the spot, my tablet clutched against my chest.

Is this the part where I follow him?

Or am I supposed to stay here?

I glance at the open doorway.

Then at the empty office.

Oh, how I hate this man.

***********

    

       "I'm very happy for you, Ceec. You're so lucky." Rosie's eyes widen with excitement as she draws her office chair closer to mine.

"Lucky?" 

  "Come off it, Ceec! You don't have to pretend with me, okay? You get to work closely with the CEO and even stay at his house?"

"But I don't like it. Why do I have to be his PA? He's so rude."

"So why did you accept it?" She chuckles.

  "Cause I need this job, especially right now." I shouldn't have added the last part.

"Right now? What's up, girl! Are you dying?" She pokes her face.

"Shut up, girl!"

"Gochta!"

"Besides, the pay is good. Both here, and I'm sure at his house. I just need the money"

  "Exactly my point, Ceec. You're so lucky. If only I knew insults would get his attention, I swear on my mama's grave I would have done that and more." She bites her lip.

  Rosie has always been a sex addict since eternity, and apparently, nothing can change her. Not even her marriage to George. Ever since I told her how I met Mr. CEO earlier today, I can swear her brain has done nothing productive till now. I feel a mixture of irritation and amusement as her eyes dance on me like I'm some goddess.

"I promise you, Rosie. You won't survive it."

"I'll try still," she winks, back to her old habit of blowing large bubbles with gum in her mouth, her eyes still fixed me.

My work phone beeps.

"Oh, my God!" My chest tightens.

"What now?"

I take a deep breath as I stand.

"He needs me..."