Semua Bab The Billionaire's Secretary. : Bab 41 - Bab 50

“How have you been?”I’m at the stove boiling water for tea. A part of me that has been traumatized by this morning’s accident warns that I probably shouldn’t go near hot water until the burns have healed. But I can’t let my mother go without a cup of chamomile tea, especially not after she just spent the last ten minutes weeping profusely.“I’ve been great, Mom,” I tell her, “The first couple of days were hard but James made it so easy for me and Ethan to adjust.”Mom’s eyes crinkles as she smiles, “Oh that’s wonderful darling. He’s such a sweet young man. He has never stopped looking out for you since you were kids.”“I know, right?” A soft smile curves my lips at the thoughts of how James has been solidly by my side since we met in junior school. I’m sure my brother loves me but he has always been way too aloof. James quickly filled his spot as a best friend and confidant. I turn to face my mother who’s seated on the island stool. Her picnic basket is on the counter, giving o

I am pulled out of my slumber by a familiar shrill ringing. Grumbling unintelligibly, I reach out blindly to grab my phone from the bed stand and glare at the screen with groggy eyes. My room is still dark, meaning it’s still at least an hour before dawn. Who on earth could be calling by this time?The number isn’t even on my contact list so I try to sound alert and polite as I pick up.“Hello?”“Rise and shine baby.” My heart instantly begins doing double back flips and summersaults in alternating rhythms. I’ve never heard a sexier morning voice.“N-Neal?” I stutter, clutching at my chest and trying to reign in my eager nerves, “How did you get my number? And why are you calling me this early?”He chuckles and his husky voice amplifies the sound, making it flow into my ears and down to the spot between my legs.Isn’t it too early to be aroused?“I got your number the same way I got your home address.”And he got my home address since a week ago, meaning he’s had my numbe

“Why haven’t you slept since yesterday?” I ask as my knife cuts into a piece of meat. I’m pretty sure it’s venison.Neal’s lips close around his fork as he takes a bite of his dish. I’m embarrassed to admit that I enjoy watching him eat.“It’s because of you,” he answers simply.I balk, “Me?” What have I done this time?His dark shades glint as they catch the light. It’s disconcerting having to talk to him without seeing his eyes and the emotions swimming in their dark brown depths.I wish he would take them off.“After what you told me about getting kicked out, you didn’t think I would be able to rest easy, did you?” He has placed his fork down and is watching me from behind the shades. I swear I can feel his disapproval penetrating through the dark glasses to land on me, making me shift uncomfortably.“I told you I was fine,” I mumble, glancing away from him.“And then this afternoon, while I was finishing off work in preparation for a long awaited nap, I received a very s

It has been six days since my date with Neal.In those six days, I can count on one finger the number of times he has spoken to me. And in those times, it was purely work related.Asides that, nothing.I have tried to come up with excuses as to why he’s being distant. Maybe he’s busy. Maybe he’s sick. Maybe he’s caught up in the whole process of becoming the richest man in London…A myriad of baseless reasons just to avoid the gnawing truth. He’s avoiding me. The tables have flipped.And for good reason too. He begged me to stay with him at the end of our date. But what did I do? I turned a blind eye and left him to face his demons alone.I saw how vulnerable he was but the best I could offer him was a kiss and an apology. I didn’t even let me him take me home.I have been plagued by self loathing all week. And the worst part is…I can’t even talk to him. He has been way too elusive, like water slipping from my fingers.Is this how he feels whenever I run from him?“Ethan, c

Monday morning, I walk into the office with a steeled heart and mind. Sure enough, everyone from the front desk at the main entrance to my colleagues are giving me all sorts of looks. And everywhere I pass, whispers follow me closely behind.Before long, I notice a consistent pattern in the various reactions I get. Enough to grade them into three distinct types.There is the reaction that says, “See her? She’s the one the boss kissed on the day of brunch!”There is also the reaction that says, “It hasn’t even been up to a month since she came here on transfer and she’s sleeping with the boss already? What a slut.”Then there is the reaction that says– and this is my favorite so far, “Who cares if Mr Ward is fooling around with the head secretary? It’s a tale as old as time and is none of my business.”By the time I arrive at my office, I’m already exhausted from taking inventory, especially of the people belonging to the second category. I just want to hide in my office all day.