Stripping the CEO

Ms. Karen Seattle was the Queen of all bitches.

"Are you capable of getting anything done at all? Do fifteen copies for each department in this company equal 150? Is this how you work for Mr. Quinn? It's a wonder you haven't been fired yet." 

Clara stared at her, head bent low and fingers clasped tightly to the pile of documents in her hand which weighed her down. Ms. Seattle's lips moved rapidly in front of her, sprewing insults and complaints as though it were her responsibility to make copies of those documents.

Working overtime had already become part of her since she joined the company, but having to keep her fingers busy firing away at the keyboard to record the long conference the day before had been hellish.

Coupled with it, she had immediately walked hastily out of the conference hall to keep up with her boss whose strides were so long he was almost invincible.

And he sure was. Andre Quinn's reputation for being made of steel and expecting perfection in return wasn't so much of a myth. His expectations were fairly impossible at times.

It was the first thing Clara had been briefed of as soon as she'd started working for him; six assistants had after all been fired before her, all within the three years of Andre Quinn's drastic takeover of the corporation.

Well, Clara hadn't only been briefed about his expectations of perfection, but another kind of meticulousness with which he played women.

There were rumours that Karen Seattle not only supervised the Executive team, but had also managed to warm his bed at some point.

Or rather, considering how much of a ruthless bitch she was, and how she matched Andre Quinn's personality, Clara's friends had made a joke about her cooling his bed with the ice she was made of.

"Hey, do I place you under probation and have your salary slashed by a half before you take your job seriously?" 

The mention of the last part of her statement had Clara being pulled completely out of her reverie. She wasn't in a good state financially already, considering how Dane hadn't been doing well in his business of late.

She couldn't afford to make any mistakes irrespective of the injustice behind her plight. 

"I'm sorry, Ms. Seattle. I will be more careful henceforth." Clara's eyes expressed none of the anger surging within her, revealing only remorse.

It hadn't been her job, and she had been so fucking tired after the long conference meeting to make the proper calculation.

But of course, she wasn't in a position to make excuses or defend herself. It didn't matter that any other person celebrating their birthday would be out preparing for a party by now. Hers was always different.

Karen seemed to slightly buy the apology. "You better be. I doubt if Andre would stop at cutting your salary if he were aware that you're slacking. Have you made his coffee?"

Surprisingly, one of the most difficult tasks that came with being Mr. Quinn's assistant was preparing his coffee. He didn't take it regular black like other people, nor did he like it the normal creamy.

With him, there was always room for something in between. She had to follow the ridiculous measurement she had been given ensuring that there was the right quantity of half a tablespoon of milk, and three-quarter teaspoon of sweetener. 

There was a specific temperature for the water used in brewing the coffee and he only took a particular type of decaffeinated coffee.

It was tiring, but if there was one thing Clara had learnt to make properly, perfecting the art, it was her boss' coffee.

Well, she would have been fired on the first day of work if she hadn't gotten it right; it was the same thing that had sent her predecessor slamming his office door and crying as she cursed both Andre and Karen. Or so had the employees said.

Clara pushed the button, alerting him of her arrival via the intercom before positioning her eyes on the security detector. Her retina successfully scanned and accepted, she waited for the automated voice to announce her presence before walking in with the tray balanced in her palms. 

"Good morning, Mr. Quinn." She greeted him with a polite smile which had never been returned, placing the mug on his glass table while pretending as though the tight security system hadn't once again wasted her time.

Because for Pete's sake there was already a high system of security; CCTV cameras fixed at the hallways, electronic barricaded doors and bullet proofed glass windows.

Coupled with the uniformed security in suit walking round the tall expansive building, it wasn't difficult to say that Mr. Quinn could be paranoid.

"Morning." He replied curtly, apparently in an irritable mood. As usual. Well, his expression had never given anything away except coolness, none of the paranoia she and other employees suspected he might have.

He always appeared in command of situations, cool and calculated as though nothing ever got to him. And even now, while he seemed ticked off about something, it didn't lessen the magnificence of the glory he exuded. 

Andre was alluring in the physical sense; all masculine and beautiful with hard sensual lips and a nose which stood out like a sculpted masterpiece.

Sometimes, his eyes seemed to be dark blue, other times they appeared more grey when the sun reflected its rays on them. He was a myriad of perfection, blessed with an olive skin which contrasted with Clara's porcelain white skin as he took the coffee mug and brought it to his lips.

Despite the number of times she had done this, her heart still

Those hard lips which were pale red like those of a dying vampire sipped at the tea, and her green eyes lay fixated as his tongue reached out to swipe over the drop at the edge.

Her heartbeat increased as he set it down, because if the temperature was too high, his tongue would burn and she wouldn't hear the end of it. 

He nodded as he looked up to face her, cross-legged, his suit the latest design of Calvin Klein. She knew this because she had once been very interested in fashion...

"Not bad. Isn't today your birthday, Ms. Lynn?"

Clara blinked twice, confused on hearing those words from her boss who had barely addressed her by her name. Had his deep melodious baritone made her mishear?

"Are you deaf?"

She knew then that she couldn't have imagined it. That streak of cold meanness could only belong to Andre Quinn. "Uh... I'm sorry, sir. Yeah... Yes, today is my birthday." 

He nodded in affirmation of his own thoughts. "Happy birthday. Take the day off."

"Um...thank you, sir..." She couldn't believe her luck as she left his office, her smile so visible Karen Seattle quickly caught on it.

"Why the heck you're smiling like that?"

With a smile as evident as the mole on her cheek, Clara replied, filled with happiness. "Mr. Quinn gave me the day off. It's erhmm, my birthday."

Ms. Seattle's eyes hardened, and she folded her arms over her high bosom- so high they could practically hug her neck- lips lifting in mischievous smirk.

"I see. Then, you will use this opportunity to remedy your mistake from last night, won't you? You can't be tardy just because it's your birthday."

Three hours later, Clara Lynn was sweating all the way to her little toes, her bones ticking in frustration.

Bitchy, good old Lady Macbeth, Ms. Seattle had made her photocopy and arrange the remaining 150 copies of documents into different sections, and then 'requested' that she type and edit a bulky badly written report with terrible penmanship.

Next, she had sent Clara to purchase food from McDonald's all the way down the other Street.

Clara couldn't get the hang of what the older lady's deal could possibly be. She had been so mean ever since she set her eyes on her, but today's was unnecessarily excessive.

At the end, Clara spent six extra hours slaving for the other woman who made sure to place her at the lower floor, where Andre wouldn't get to see her. 

It was difficult walking on heels after such a tiring day, especially since her car had malfunctioned and she'd had to take the bus to work.

As Clara walked out of the Quinn corporation, the heart and brain of so many innovations in America, she glanced at the gigantic building before exhaling outwardly.

It was far from how she had planned to celebrate her birthday, but knowing Dane, she was sure that her boyfriend not having called her till then was because he was planning a surprise.

She had pretended as though she hadn't been aware of his sneaky calls throughout the night, or his act of constantly checking his messages.

It was the perfect consolation she needed after an exhilarating day, and so she put behind the CEO's strange kindness and Karen's bitchiness, smiling as she boarded a cab instead of a bus. She didn't want to keep him on his toes all day, waiting for her to return home.

The streets of New York were brighter than the summer sun as the cab drove away from the vicinity of the building controlled by Quinn Andre.

The architectural designs of the houses were more unique than they had been before, and the trees and flowers seemed to communicate in a more lively way. 

They were perfect. 

She paid the cabman and quickly took the elevator that led to her modest apartment, the home she had shared with Dane since after high school when they'd moved in together.

She bit her lips as she rang the doorbell and waited, her heart beating in a beautiful kind of anticipation as each second passed by.

She pushed the lone button again and waited.

It was after a few minutes that it occurred to her that he either wasn't around, or wanted her to open it herself so as to make the surprise more impressive. Did he perhaps intend to propose? Her white skin reddened as it grew hot.

She pulled out her keycard and swiped it against the security system which had been a welcome gift to the workplace; her first present after completing her internship at the Quinn corporation.

Stepping into the cozy apartment, she closed her eyes... And opened them. 

The only surprise was the oh so familiar grunt coming from the bedroom.

Clara halted in her steps, assured that pranks were being played on her. Why else would she hear...? 

She forced her legs to move, placing one wobbly foot in front of the other as a high moan followed the grunt. Her heart beat faster and her head swarm in an ocean of dizziness, but she forced herself to keep walking, irrespective of how painful it was. 

The horrible music was louder now, the worst melody she had needed to hear growing as her heels carried her to the door. It was as though she were merely a participant in a journey headed by an unknown pilot.

She pushed the door open. Slowly. Her fear increasing with each movement.

There in the bed she had shared with Dane for the past four years was another woman, screaming the name of the man she had believed would propose to her, his dick pounding into her.

"Da...Dane?" 

And for a moment, the wheel which controlled time stopped for Clara.