Four

Teresa repeatedly blinked at the HR email that she had just received, like it might disappear if she stared at it long enough.

Effective immediately, Mr. Chandler's contract with Rexona industries has been terminated. Please report to the CEO’s office tomorrow, Monday morning at 9 a.m. prompt. You will be temporarily filling the role of his secretarial finance assistant. Please do not be tardy.

Theresa read it once. Then re read it another time. Then reread it five times. Her old boss was fired, and she the simple,low-level, keep-your-head-down, nobody knows and bothers to talk to Teresa was being sent up to the top floor, the peak of the company where the CEO, Mark Rexona himself resided. And she was going to be his assistant.

Teresa set the laptop down on her bed and scuffled a few distance away from it. She was staring into space, still trying to process the information just given to her when Mariana waltzed into her room and plopped on her bed with a stick of sour jerky in her mouth .

"I see that expression. That's either your ' I'm completely screwed ' expression or your ' what the hell have I gotten myself into expression ' so which is it." Mariana said as she took another bite of the jerky.

Teresa could only squeak in reply and gesture to her laptop, not trusting her voice.

Mariana used her free hand to drag the laptop closer to her. She began to read the email and once she was done, her mouth fell open as she processed the information.

Her wide eyes mirrored Teresa's own.

"You got a promotion."

Teresa nodded her head.

"We should be happy and celebrating."

She nodded again.

"But you are so screwed aren't you?"

Teresa nodded again with despair in her eyes.

Mariana pursed her lips and patted Teresa on her back.

"It's okay love you'll survive."

She then shot her a glare.

"Or not."

Teresa grabbed the nearby pillow and screamed into it will Mariana watched her, still chewing on the jerky.

******

The elevator ride to the top floor felt like ascending into a completely different universe. Everything up here was… sleek. Cold. Polished. And marble. The female receptionist didn’t smile, just kept a straight face as she printed her permanent pass and showed her the way to the office.

The glass glistened like crystals. The hallway was empty save for the few pee that came out of certain offices and they didn't waste time. They walked like they were racing against time but they didn't run. Just speed walked gracefully like floating on air.

The air smelt of expensive coffee and peppermint. I counted the office doors until I got to the very end. The CEO's office. Teresa stood at the door nervously. Her clenched fists were wet with sweat.

She took a gulp of saliva and braced herself. Raising her hand, she lightly tapped on the glass door like she was scared it would break.

Then the door slid open.

Mark Rexona stood before her with his back to her. Tall and sculpted in a jet-black suit, the perfect description of indifferent perfection. He turned.

Teresa nearly dropped the clipboard she was holding.

His eyes were like the darkest chocolate, sharp and calculating. His lips were flat and looked like they had never been stretched into a smile. His presence? Undeniably suffocating. His aura was strong and filled the entire room. Her body gave an involuntary shiver.

“Teresa Smith I presume?” His voice was deep. Sharp and commanding. He didn't shout but every syllable was laced with dominance.

She quickly caught the moan that threatened to leave her throat. As a prevention method she snapped her mouth shut so fast her teeth clicked.

"Yes, sir."

“Your job will be to handle my schedule, internal and occasionally, external correspondence, and whatever task I deem necessary for you to perform. I don’t like to repeat myself and so I won't.”

No welcoming smile. No warm introduction. Nothing of the sort. He just instructions and turned back to resume typing on the standing desk and ignored her like she didn't exist.

Teresa stood there, blankly staring like a confused meerkat.

She hesitated to ask where her desk was and what tasks to start working on.

"Sir.."

"Get me file 3B and 7V from the cabinet on your left then go to the office on your right and document the reports that are on the table."

Her body moved before her mind was able to fill process the information. She quickly got him the files and ran to the office which she now knew was mine, and started working on the pile of documents on the table.

All day, she moved through tasks like a ghost on steroids. Every time he spoke to her, even just a curt “Type this” or "Email this." her stomach twisted, her thighs clenched together , and her brain turned into mush. Her desires were no longer whispers as they usually were, they were loud screams.

And worst of all… she loved how he ordered her around. Every sharp command. Every scrutinizing glance. It triggered something in her that she didn't know existed.

At one point, he entered her office displeased with the report she had sent to him and instructed her to make corrections. He leaned over her shoulder to glance at her screen. His cologne hit her like a punch. She gasped softly, then lied that she had a muscle pull when he asked what had happened.

She couldn’t focus on anything. She couldn’t breathe.

By the end of the day, her panties were drenched with wetness, and her thoughts were completely inappropriate.

As she rode the elevator back down, she held onto the bar like she was aboard a ship in a turbulent storm. But a storm was brewing instead her or rather down there.

She had no idea how she’d survive the rest of the week.

But one thing was extremely clear:

Mark Rexona was going to completely ruin her, she was sure of that and she wasn't completely sure if she minded or not.