CHAPTER 5

Charisse

The second my new boss saw me, he froze and paled. 

He lowered his voice out of consideration for me and asked with concern, “Are these the only clothes you have?” 

I looked down at my oversized jumper and baggy sweatpants, both used to be Val’s, then swivelled back up at him and nodded sheepishly. 

Val said that I wouldn’t need any new clothes since I’d be at home or the convenience store, so I didn’t bother getting any. 

I pushed my specs up and smiled brilliantly. “Val said that I’d be behind the desk and no one will see me, so it doesn’t matter what I wear.” 

He mumbled a few curses under his breath, grabbed my sleeves and yanked me along as he strode fiercely across the hotel lobby. 

*****

Dorian Vellum was definitely not a force to be reckoned with. 

We entered a boutique and everyone was on high alert. 

He walked straight to the VIP fitting room and the curtains immediately drew shut. 

Then, I was pulled into a smaller room and three women entered with me. 

They wanted to help me change—to my horror—but I shoved them out. 

Ten minutes later, I came out feeling super uncomfortable, and Dorian was at the racks choosing outfits. 

“Erm, I think these are too small for me?” I tried to pull out some of the white blouse and one of the three women came forward to help. 

Dorian said nothing, which irritated me a little, so I looked up and, to my frustration, he continued picking out clothes off the rack, ignoring me. 

“Dorian,” I sighed. 

“Yes.” 

“Did you hear what I say?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then, why didn’t you respond?!” I spread out both arms and the same woman thought that I needed to button up the cuffs, but I stopped her. “They are too tight!” 

“They’re not.” He was done with a rack and went on to the next one. “They are designed to fit.” He sounded annoyed now. 

“Then, I think they don’t fit me.” I crossed my arms. 

“Why not?” He pointed at a very nice sky blue blouse.

And one of the four women attending to him quickly removed it from the rack.  

“Because you won’t look at me!” I snapped. “That means it’s ugly on me, right?” 

“It looks beautiful on you, Miss!” cried the woman next to me. “You are the perfect size 4!” 

“I–I am?” I was astounded. 

She pulled me to stand in front of a full body mirror and I fell speechless.

“Are you alright?” Dorian was suddenly at my side, his eyes in full concern. 

It was then I realised I was crying. 

He offered a handkerchief and I took it to dab below my eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t usually cry like an infant—.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with crying.” He tucked a fallen strand behind my ear. “Your body needs some release of emotions, so just let it. It’s healthy.” 

I chuckled. “You really are good at comforting people.” 

He frowned but turned away before I could make sense of it and said, “I know you don’t need it. But you’re my secretary, so you’ll meet people.”

I pulled the part of the blouse that was tucked into the black pencil skirt snuggling around my hips. “So you’re getting these for me?” 

“I’m getting a suite of these for you.” He tucked both hands in his pockets. 

And a chilling fear gripped me. 

“No, no, no… I can’t bring these back.” I dashed over to him. “Dorian, I can’t have these. I appreciate you buying them, but Val will kill me if he knows these came from you. And I don’t even have a place to put them!” 

He looked over my head as he suggested, “There’s a wardrobe in my office, and we’ll store these clothes there.” 

“S–so I come to work—.” 

“In your giant clothes. Then go to the wardrobe to change into these.” 

“But what if I let slip? What if he saw me on the streets and asked me about the skirt? I can’t wear a skirt, Dorian, I really can’t!”

He grabbed my shoulders and squeezed them gently. “Take a deep breath, Charisse.” And he guided me through it. 

When I was breathing normally again, he snapped his fingers and a woman pulled in a rack of five male business suits. 

“I got you these too,” he said, cradling my face, his thumbs wiping my damp cheeks. “Just in case. I like to cover all grounds.”

“Men’s wear?” I sniffed. 

And he chuckled. “Yes. So you bring these back. They aren’t branded, and he can tell their less refined quality, so you checked with him if you could wear them. How’s that?” 

“How is it that your brain can work this fast?” I whispered, a smile of gratitude on my lips. 

He swallowed and snatched his hands off me, then tucked both hands into his pockets and was back to looking over my head. 

“I need yours to work twice as fast,” he ordered. “Think you can do that?” 

I put on my jacket and was ready. “Yes, Mr. Vellum.” 

*****

My desk was inside his office so we’d be working very closely together on a daily basis. 

I was typing on my computer the proposals he’d be presenting in a meeting that would happen in an hour. 

The pressure was on and these damn specs were making it worse for me. 

I yanked them off and threw them on the table, and continued speed-typing away. 

“You don’t need glasses?” he suddenly asked. 

“Don’t talk to me now,” I sang high with irritation. 

“Jesus….” He cursed in a tormented tone. “Another thing to worry about.” 

“Something wrong?” I asked. 

And he snapped, “Yes. That proposal. It’s just a couple of paragraphs. How long more do you need to take?” 

God, he’s whiny when he’s stressed out. 

In another five minutes, I was done. I emailed it to him and was about to run through it with him, when he told me to leave him alone. 

So I did and went to organise his schedule for the week. 

In ten minutes, I was done. 

So I went back to the bear and asked if he had anything else for me to do. 

And he handed me ten files to read. 

“What’s this?” I asked, leafing through the pages. 

“Everything you need to know about the Crimson Crest Empire and the clan.” His eyes were fixed on the pie chart on his computer screen. 

I was appalled. “Aren’t these confidential?” 

“Yes, they are.” He clicked his mouse. 

“And you want me to read them.” 

“Yes, Charisse. Because you’re my—.” 

“Secretary.” I moved to the front of his desk, next to his desktop, and put my face next to the screen so our eyes would meet. “I got it, boss.” 

He blinked twice in surprise then recoiled as though he was scalded. “What the fuck are you doing?!” 

“I’m sorry!” I blurted. 

And that seemed to make him more furious. “What are you sorry for?” he growled. 

“F–for….” My mind went blank. 

I kept apologising. I didn’t mean to make him mad. Don’t be mad, please, don’t be mad. 

Suddenly, I was in his arms, and he was hugging me. 

A deep voice that sounded nothing like Val urged, “Breathe, Charisse, breathe.” 

It was then I knew I was hyperventilating. 

I listened to him, I did as he said, but my heart was still pounding in my ears, and something was gripping my windpipe. 

“I apologise for this,” said the deep voice. 

And then warm, moistened lips covered mine.