Chapter 2 The new position

I woke up to the sound of my alarm booming in my ears after a very sleepless night. I turned it off idly, looked up at the ceiling, and thought about life before stumbling out of bed. I had plenty of time to get ready for the incredibly long day I was about to face-it was 4:30 AM. I changed out of my pajamas as soon as I entered my black marble-decorated bathroom and turned on the shower. While I was shampooing my hair, I imagined all the wonderful things that may happen. Or perhaps the work isn't all that horrible? The devil was never truly seen by anyone; although he maintained a low profile, it was never sufficiently low, since we all knew exactly which whore he was fucking each week, owing to the media. But what if the situation holds at work as well? He was playing it low-key and all. What if I could see him no more for the next two years, till my contract expires? My cheeks lit up at the mere thought of that. Perhaps this will not be a horrible deal after all. And before I know it, I'll be back in business the way my father always wanted. After taking a brief shower, I hurried to my walk-in wardrobe to choose an outfit. I need something that is professional and smart because I'll be the first person people see when they arrive at the company as a secretary. If I'm being totally honest with myself, though, I don't care what I wear-the mere idea of being in Crap Industries alone makes me want to hurl. But I'm going to play the part I was assigned for the benefit of my company, so I went with an all-black, off-the-shoulder midi dress that pushed my breasts up just enough and hugged my curvaceous body in all the right places. I quickly put on the dress, blew out my curly brown hair that was falling down my caramel shoulders, moisturized, and brushed it all in. I then applied concealer under my chestnut brown eyes, a dab of red blush to my cheeks, and a tiny bit of clear lip gloss to highlight the tips of my nose and cheekbones. Since I'm not a huge fan of makeup, I prefer to wear very little of it. I looked at my phone and saw that it was 5:40 AM, which meant that I hadn't had breakfast yet and had already wasted an hour. I snatched up my bag, threw on my transparent heels, and dashed from my room. Given that Crap Industries is at least a fifteen-minute drive away and that I would almost certainly be stopped in traffic due to my Californian residency, there was no way I could eat breakfast right now. I wasted no more time in running to my penthouse elevator and stabbing the lobby button many times. Even though I hated the job, I could not be late for my first day of work. Moving through the dimly lighted parking garage, I eventually located my black AMG G-63 and headed out. Even though my dad's gambling addiction destroyed our company, I always made it a habit to invest the money I made into stocks, real estate, and franchises so I would always have a source of income, even if something happened to Harrington Industries. As a result, I can afford the lifestyle I lead. I always had backup plans because I had a sneaking suspicion that my father would ruin the one thing he ever did well in life. It was just my fucking luck that the thirty-minute commute took me exactly ten minutes later than expected for my first day of work. I hurried out in the direction of the door after parking in the staff lot. One of the biggest structures in all of California is Crap Industries. See-through glass windows cover about 100 stories in height (see the picture above). The massive edifice was visually stunning due to its beautiful structure. As I stepped through the enormous glass double doors, a woman in a brilliant blue skin-tight dress and an angry expression met me. I would swear I wandered into a strip club if I didn't know where I was. Her ass barely covered her dress, and her face was so cakey I could cut right through it with a knife. Her cleavage poured out of it. Her emerald green eyes glared at me through her wavy blonde hair that fell just below her waist. "You're late." She crossed her arms over her chest and gave me a disdainful look as she spoke in a high-pitched, unpleasant voice. I shrugged and rolled my eyes. "Traffic." "Look, we don't have much time before Boss comes, so follow me." Head of State? Is that what everyone is calling this bastard? As Miss Angry Whore ushered me through another set of glass double doors and out into the brightly illuminated foyer, I thought. It just takes one stone to topple this whole glass skyscraper, so I hope no one is ever fired. "This is Floor 1," she said, pointing to the open area where a number of busy-looking individuals were crammed into little cubicles and busily tapping away at computers. "The Data Entry Floor." She kept guiding me through the structure and explaining what was on each floor. God knows I have an appetite like a hippo, so all I need to know is where the cafeteria is. "And you'll be on Floor 30, the Bosses floor." With a sour tone, Miss Angry Whore declared. "Wait, I thought I would be working on Floor 1 at the front desk," I spoke out, my face betraying confusion. As we exited the elevator that took us to the floor I was ostensibly working on, she rolled her eyes. There were only six unoccupied cubicles on the enormous floor, three on each side. A pleasant-sized office might be found through the light brown modern wood door to the far right, while Sebastian Ashford's office may be found through the enormous black double doors on the exact opposite side. She hissed, "No, you're his secretary," and then gave me my new key card and a folder stuffed with paperwork. "Not the entire company's secretary." "Excuse me, what?" I gave up. --