Under His Watch

My life hardly feels like a life. It's an endless cycle of the same routine.

I wake up, get ready, stop by the café for an espresso, take the bus to work, stay later than I should, take the bus home, make dinner, and go to bed. Every day is exactly the same—except for the weekends.

I'm the second assistant to the owner of the largest vineyard estate in the region. Not just any vineyard, but an award-winning estate renowned for producing exceptional wines that most people will never taste unless they have more money than they know what to do with.

Leonard Parker. The Relentless.

That's what everyone calls my boss.

When Leonard Parker wants something, nothing—and no one—stands in his way. His piercing blue eyes are enough to make employees avoid looking directly at him. Standing at six feet tall, he has a commanding presence that intimidates the men and leaves the women sighing every time he walks past them without so much as a glance. His honey-blond hair is always perfectly styled, just like his tailor-made suits. Known around the world as The Heartbreaker, he's a notorious womanizer who makes no effort to hide it from the media. He couldn't care less what people think of him. His smile is reserved for those closest to him... or for his next conquest. Powerful, wealthy, and exceptionally well-connected, he's the kind of man everyone knows—and few dare to challenge.

I've worked for him for two years. It was never my dream job, but the salary and benefits are too good to walk away from.

The first assistant is Laila—a beautiful woman who never misses an opportunity to flaunt her looks in front of our boss. Her sweet voice, dazzling white smile, striking blue eyes, and flawless curves are enough to make every male coworker stop what they're doing just to watch her walk by. She's one of countless women in this company who could pass for a model.

I'm the only one who doesn't seem to fit in.

Laila manages Leonard's personal schedule, while I handle his business meetings. Since his calendar is divided into personal and professional commitments, he keeps separate schedules for both. She's the one who walks into his office, briefs him on his appointments, greets visitors, and deals with him directly.

Me? I answer the phones, report everything to Laila, and limit my conversations with Mr. Parker to "Good morning," "Good afternoon," and "Good night."

And that's exactly how I want it to stay.

I've never been good with people. Communication has never been my strength.

Organization, on the other hand, always has.

That's why this job suits me perfectly.

The Relentless walks past our desks with his usual frown, ignoring every greeting before disappearing into his office. "Blair, Mr. Parker wants you to reschedule this afternoon's meetings for next week."

Laila barely looks up from her desk as she delivers the news.

I can feel my blood beginning to boil.

Again.

This is the second time he's done this. Every time there's a meeting with our international partners, he decides to reschedule at the last minute, as if everyone else has nothing better to do than rearrange their schedules for him. Coordinating a new time isn't as simple as moving a dentist's appointment. Different countries, different time zones, different assistants... and every single one of them has to agree before we can confirm a new meeting.

There goes my chance of leaving work on time and grabbing drinks with the girls.

Instead, I'll be stuck here until every assistant replies to my emails.

I let out an exaggerated sigh and roll my eyes over the rim of my reading glasses.

Laila doesn't react She never does.

From the day I started working here, it was obvious she didn't like me. Maybe because I didn't fit the image of a Parker employee. Most women in this building looked like they'd stepped straight off a fashion runway.

I looked like... me.

Our office consisted of a long desk running along the wall beside the elevators, with Mr. Parker's office positioned directly in the center. Laila sat gracefully in her ergonomic chair like a queen on her throne.

Meanwhile, I sat in mine like a sack of potatoes.

Whenever I needed to move, I didn't even bother standing up. I simply pushed myself along on tiptoe, letting the chair glide across the floor.

Yes...

I'm that lazy.

With a heavy sigh, I pick up my phone and text Claire.

To: Claire

Sorry, friend. I have to stay late again. That jerk decided he doesn't want today's meeting with the partners after all. I'm really sorry. Can you let Bia and Jonathan know?

I'm definitely going to get a lecture later.

One of these days they'll stop believing my excuses altogether.

Claire has been my best friend since school. Bia used to work security downstairs before becoming a security trainer, and Jonathan—who works three floors below us in the advertising department—is the chaotic soul of our little group. Loud, brutally honest, and somehow more dramatic than the rest of us combined, he never fails to make us laugh.

I shove my phone back into my bag and bury myself in work.

Time slips away without me noticing.

By the time I finally glance at the clock...

It's almost two-thirty.

"Shit!"

I shoot up from my chair.

"I'll grab something to eat and be right back!"

Laila dismisses me with nothing more than a lazy wave of her hand, barely acknowledging my existence.

The only reason I noticed the time at all was because my bladder had officially declared an emergency.

I snatch my purse, unlock my phone to reply to Claire's latest message, and hurry toward the elevators without looking where I'm going.

Someone else is doing exactly the same.

The collision is inevitable.