It was another Monday in New York City, different cars made their way down the streets of Manhattan, hooting in commencement of another busy day.
The Quinn Corporation headquarters remained outstanding in its tallness, expansiveness and architectural structure.
Nothing had changed in the building, but as Clara stared at it long and hard before walking into it, her neck almost breaking, it was with the realisation that a drastic change had occurred in her life. It had begun with the weekend, but she was yet to see the end of it.
Her dressing was the same, blonde hair with streaks of silver in a low bun, features accentuated with light make-up, slender figure clad in grey dress an inch below her knees.
Covering her feet was a pair of short-heeled stiletoes which she'd had for a year. There was basically nothing about her that announced a change, but she knew it was coming. Apart from the talk she'd had with Andre, she felt it. That change that might not be as wonderful as she expected.
She made her way to the elevator and punched the button to the top floor, which the executive team shared with the senior executives of the headquarters.
Well, 'executive team' was a nice way to put the servant men and women of the corporation who made photocopies and served the Executives without ever being heard. It was headed by Karen Seattle, who supervised the other assistants but acted as though she were the COO herself.
Clara seemed to have jinxed it, for thinking of Karen Seattle was immediately followed by her seeing the bitchy lady as soon as the elevator doors slid open with a bing. She had worn another outfit which although Clara hated to admit was sexy.
Dark blue body hugging dress which gave away her curves, paired with peach stilettos did look good on her with her brown hair permed in a wavy style to cascade over her shoulders. Clara froze for a moment, guilt gripping hold of her on seeing the other woman.
As usual, Karen did a quick run down on her, assessing her outfit before speaking up. "You want to slack off in the elevator or come collect these papers from me?"
"Oh..." Clara muttered in response, hastily walking out of the elevator to collect the stack of papers she had just noticed were in her hands. She balanced them against her arm, supporting them with the other.
"I want you to make six copies of each one, and send them to the various heads of departments on the executive floor for approval. Ensure they sign on them and return today."
Yeah, every ounce of guilt Clara may have felt went down the drain on listening to her. She had come again with one of those impossible tasks, although there were nine other assistants in her team who were lazying about doing nothing.
It would be easier if each person took care of their own department. She toyed with the idea of speaking up, and chose to take a shot, her palms sweating.
"Ahem... Ms. Seattle, the others aren't doing anything. Wouldn't it be better if each handled their own department?"
Karen halted in her steps with such swiftness Clara almost bumped her nose into her hair. It had been difficult keeping up with the other woman's pace while carrying a load of papers.
She turned around to face Clara, the low-cut neckline of her dress exposing a generous amount of her boobs. She had worn a perfect nude make-up to complete her looks. In the fashion department, karma sure didn't punish her for her bitchiness.
"Are you telling me how to supervise my team? How to do my own job?" They had got to the middle of the expansive room where seats and desks of the ten staff who assisted each member of the executive was kept.
Sure they all had separate offices attached to their boss', but they gathered in the expansive room in the morning and during lunchtime to take instructions from Karen.
Which was where everyone was currently. On seeing that Karen was again picking on her, they stopped what they were doing, posing as her spectators.
"No... I'm sorry." Clara quickly said, taking another embarrassment with consolation this time. It was going to be the last fucking time, she told herself.
"No, you're acting like you are better than everyone else again, pretending to be Ms. Goody-two-shoes. Have you even made Andre's coffee?"
Clara heard the snickering comments in the background, tempted to say that she couldn't have damn well made coffee with a pile of documents in her hand.
Just as she was about to speak, Gonzalo, Andre's Chief Secretary walked in with a gait that almost equalled his boss'.
Karen stopped talking immediately, a smirk replacing her words as she folded her arms over her breasts, pushing them up even more.
Gonzalo looked around for a few seconds before he spoke in that calm organised tone of his. He had a reputation for saying little irrespective of the situation, and was another staff who had lasted a long time under Andre.
He wasn't just his chief secretary, but was also the chief of staff in every branch of the Quinn Corporation.
His eyes focused on Clara. "Ms. Lynn, Mr. Quinn asked for you."
Clara nodded, turning to Karen.
"Oh, just leave the documents on the table. You're probably getting fired anyway."
Clara bit into her cheeks, preferring not to speak as she dropped the papers on one of the tables, following Gonzalo in. She had often engaged in gossips with her friends in the lower floors, how cute he was in glasses and designers' suit.
He wasn't tall like his boss, but his height suited his slender frame and slightly broad shoulders. Everything about him including his personality spoke of discipline.
He engaged in the same ritual of announcing his presence via the intercom and scanning his eye in the security system before leading her into the office.
Clara's heart skipped a tad bit as she set her eyes on Andre seated behind his large desk in an intimidatingly larger office, dressed in spotless white suite.
She pushed images of his performance out of her mind, forcing her legs to be stable as Gonzalo left them alone, the doors sliding shut behind him.
"Good morning, sir." Her voice came out in high-pitch because she was making efforts not to stutter.
"Have a seat, Ms. Lynn." He reclined against the seat, looking relaxed and unfazed and yet so effortlessly intimidating it hurt. He didn't have to shout to be heard; his mere presence was an aura of glory. Respect.
She swallowed hard, seating with her palms clasped tightly together.
He opened the file on the table, pulling out a paper which he handed over to her. She read the heading, 'Non-Disclosure Agreement.' Although short, it was detailed and demanded that under no circumstances should she reveal what she had seen at the club.
It listed every possible circumstance like under duress or gossip, the penalty for disobedience being immediate termination of employment.
As a reward for keeping his secret, she was to be promoted to the position of a supervisor/executive assistant, a position which came with accommodation, a car, travel allowance and health insurance.
If she however proved unable to execute her duties meticulously, she could be demoted as well. Her period of probation was to last for a month.
"I find it agreeable." She spoke as soon as she had completed reading the document, looking up to find his eyes on her.
She felt a slight tingle in her nipple, and inhaled sharply, sucking it in. She would be working more closely with him now, and couldn't let this minor hunger for sexual gratification get in the way.
Those piercing blue-grey eyes were staring at her. "Then sign."
She picked up the pen, her signature coming off a little disorganised since her palms wouldn't stop sweating nervously.
For some reason, it was as though he were setting her up for failure. In his eyes promised retribution for not accepting the offer of transfer. He seemed to have a vendetta against her for discovering his secret, simple.
"Get your things. Your work begins now." She definitely hadn't imagined that mischievous sly tone.
She stood, pushing out her right palm for some reason. Making no attempt to stand, he leaned forward and took her hand, sending a bolt of electricity down her body. She disengaged immediately, so suddenly he arched his brows. To her credit, he made no comment about it, motioning her to get her stuff with a wave of his palm.
A few minutes later, Clara had a plastic container balanced on the left side of her waist, her right hand busy picking her items and arranging them in the box.
It occurred to her that she hadn't made any good memory working under Karen, that as her colleagues gathered around her snickering with fake voices in pretence of missing her around, she hadn't formed any good relationship with them. They had been sucking up to Karen, while she had done all the work.
For some reason, she hadn't corrected them on their assumption that she was being fired.
"Tsk tsk, your sharp tongue got him riled up. Bet that Andre had you fired for talking back huh?" Karen had returned from wherever she had been, and Clara didn't need to look up to register the satisfaction in the other woman's face. It was there in her tone, a certain triumph that Clara had finally got fired.
"You're wrong Ms. Seattle. Ms. Lynn has been promoted to my executive assistant, and will take over your office including supervision of the executive team members."
Everyone including Clara herself stilled at the sound of that voice which exuded command which others didn't dare disobey. When had he left his office?
Everyone turned to look at him, shocked, frozen. Karen was pale, disbelief washing over her perfect physical features.
"An...Andre? Ho...how?" She stuttered, motification clouding her eyes. For a moment, Clara felt for her, especially when Andre replied.
"It's Mr. Quinn to you. Clear your desk immediately. And Ms. Lynn, gather your things and come to my office. My secretary will begin your orientation now."
Clara looked up to meet his eyes for the first time, but there wasn't anything that indicated his pleasure with the situation. Somehow, she knew he wasn't backing down in getting her transfered.
He was going to see it to the end, getting her out of his sight.
With each step Clara took towards the doors, she wished there wouldn't be any more surprises because her heart had taken too much of it. Yet as she stepped into the private room which catered to private performances for VIP members, she knew that her wish wouldn't be fulfilled and her heart might just find a way to keep from exploding. It was the room where she had reconciled Adonis with Andre, the foundation of the secret relationship she had started with her boss, boyfriend, and business partner. Including a hell of everything else he was to her. Yet everything from the arrangement to illumination wasn't the same, nor was the mood set by the soft music which blared through the speakers. '...'Cause all of me Loves all of you Love your curves and all your edges All your perfect imperfections...' John Legend's 'All of Me' had never sounded more emotional, that beautiful voice invoking to her mind memories of the man she had fallen in love with, who stood in the middl
Fuck, her palms joined together of their volition even before she registered that she was clapping, a tear forming in her eyes as the lights went off again. She wasn't even aware of the masked female concierge who came into the room till she perceived an enchanting feminine cologne and darted her eyes towards the direction of the third party. She and the mood she had been cast into already occupied the seats of the first two parties. "Good evening, ma'am. I'll be serving you tonight." She bore a tray of glass and a bottle of wine in the other hand. "A glass please." Clara muttered, suddenly aware of how patched her throat had become with dryness. A cold flute was soon in her hand, and she perceived the unique aroma before bringing it to her lips. It tasted sweetly sinful and smelt like soft sensuality although the alcohol level was only a background complement. Clara's eyes immediately went to the wine bottle with amazement clouding them; it bore an Italian name she couldn't
'I want your body on mine, forever.' A whisper, an imploration, a fucking vow. *** The theme tonight was ethereal. When the car halted in front of the X-Clusive and the chauffeur opened her side of the door, Clara Lynn stared at the tall building which now served as headquarters for another branch in Las Vegas as her Christian Louboutin rhinestone heels stepped on the floors. "Thanks, Will." She muttered to the chauffeur who replied in a similar polite fashion and shut the door, stepping into side with her. Some things like Andre's security following her around hadn't changed over the past one year, especially since their relationship had become public knowledge. But rather than the team who announced the presence of paranoia and made her friends uneasy at events, the slightly older man who doubled as a chauffeur escorted her to public functions. Once the gossip magazines had taken it upon themselves to get pictures of the hunky man opening doors for her, with captions which s
"This is impressive, Clara. I must admit, it's better than I imagined. We're definitely onboard." Literally, they had been onshore for more than four hours because Mr. Holmes apparently included her in her vacation plans for the day, and though she had kept glancing at her watch for the first thirty minutes, Clara hadn't been able to deny that the man did know how to enjoy himself. An ex workaholic in the business world who had decided to take a break as he was fast approaching forty, Holmes was looking for lucrative businesses to invest in so he could enjoy his rest while making money as well. It was a solid plan, and for the first three hours, Clara listened with interest as he talked about his plans for the future and even found herself laughing when he made a joke about wishing to get married to a smart woman who could match his ideas. Like her. A statement which she took care to laugh unnecessarily loudly to, just before making her own joke about already being engaged.
Andre Quinn was exhausted a few minutes after four in the evening when the hostess who served him another cup of herbal tea announced that they had arrived New York. It was the quickest journey he'd ever made to and fro his hometown, and that was a considerate setting of new record because he had never felt comfortable in the empty expansive mansion since his mother left. His mother. He was still coming to terms with how everything had unfolded, and was getting used to the idea of not mentally referring to Marie as 'the bitch' as he'd done for more than two decades. Even before he was legal enough to think the 'b' word. But giving himself a mental break over the past month had cleansed his spirits to a large extent. Apart from spending more time with his girlfriend and going on a drive with her sometimes in the evening, he had also mustered the courage to place a call to Thailand twice. And even when he'd heard Viscount's voice in the background on one of the occasions, he
Within twenty-four hours, Clara had succeeded in making headlines in office group chats which almost equated Andre Quinn's in international gossip magazines. Virtually every fucking person, including her subordinates turned to CCTV cameras and historians who documented her every move so as to analyse them later. And because her boyfriend thrived on being so damn generous it hurt, he rode the elevator down to her floor during lunch break and walked into her office amdist the obvious scrutinising eyes and fingers waiting for crumbs of information about them. He fed it to them; hot cake and ice cream to wagging tongues, and even offered them a dessert by staying in her office for thirty minutes after instructing her shocked assistant to hold her calls. And in the sweetness of his endless generosity, he gave them a ticket to their next meal when he finally came out of her office with his hand gently grazing her back, his eyes concentrated on hers as she told him about the meeting s