I exhale deeply before walking into Dynasty. It's the first day of operations, take down the Blackwells, and I am ready to face any obstacles head-on.
Dan told me to look for anything on Ryan's computer or phone—anything that could be used against him or his family.
Today, I will be on the lookout for the perfect opportunity to snoop.
The sooner I find something, the sooner I can escape Ryan's presence and put these things behind me.
It will be satisfying to see him pay for what he did to me, and I can finally move on.
"Hello," I nod to the receptionist—a cheerful blonde with a smile always on his face.
His name is Jax. Lovely name.
He returns my greeting with his famous bright smile. A young chap. Should be in his early twenties.
I scan my ID and head for the elevator. Taking it to the thirtieth floor. When my floor arrived, the elevator dinged and opened to the main floor of Dynasty.
There are a few employees in, understandably, as it is barely seven o'clock in the morning.
My entrance halts every activity for a brief second, with all eyes in the room swinging to my direction. I stiffen, tempted to go back the way I came and say fuck to this job.
I fucking hate attention, and it is all Ryan's fault. His debacle yesterday has made me notorious.
I straightened my shoulders, raised my head high, and stepped out of the elevator. I have nothing to be ashamed of, and I will not cower before these people.
They don't know me, and I will not care about what they say or think.
Surprisingly, no one said anything. They just stared until I was halfway through the room, and they lost interest, returning to their business.
I exhaled, believing I was home free, when my path was suddenly blocked.
A guy of average height and looks, dressed in his big monkey suit, stood, staring at me with a sly smile on his lips.
When our eyes met, he asked the silliest question ever.
"Are you fucking him?"
I wanted to slap off the smug grin on his face. I am not yet his assistant for a day, and everyone is already thinking I am fucking him.
God! What is wrong with people?
Not all assistants fuck their bosses.
"Are you?" I throw the question back to him with a deadpan expression.
He loses his arrogant stance, his boring brown eyes dimming in confusion. "Me?!" He points to his chest, looking as if it is the most ridiculous thing on earth.
He recovers quickly and then smiles at me, a smile that made me want to throw up; that is how slimy it looked.
"No, sweetheart, I don't swing that way."
If he calls me sweetheart one more time, I swing my handbag at him.
"Neither do I," I say with a tight smile.
His jaw dropped, and his eyes widened.
I walked past him, leaving him standing in the middle of the room with a slack jaw.
I reach my small cubicle, an extension of Ryan's office, where I find a cup of coffee waiting for me and a small paper bag beside it.
I search the corridors for who might have left the coffee, but there isn't a soul in sight.
It is just seven a.m., and I am among the few people who have arrived.
Puzzled, I lift the cup of coffee to find it still very hot, meaning the person just dropped it. And the bag?
I open it and find my favorite doughnuts inside—salted butter-glazed doughnuts. Now, if the coffee is espresso, I will believe someone is stalking me.
Unable to resist—even though I don't know who sent it—I take one of the doughnuts and bite into it.
"Mmm!" I moan, savoring the delicious taste with my eyes closed.
"Good?"
Startled by the sudden sound of Ryan's teasing voice, the food in my mouth goes into my windpipe, causing me to cough violently.
Fuck, he is here!
How the fuck is he already here? And what kind of boss arrives before the assistant?
"Hey! Take this," I hear him say very close to me, and I look up to see him holding a bottle of water in his hand, a concerned look in his eyes.
Why is he being good to me? Does he feel guilty? Is that why he is acting nice?
I remember the cocky boy I met years ago. He is nothing like the man standing tall before me.
"Thanks," I take the bottle from his hand.
"I didn't mean to startle you," he says by way of apology, which I dismiss. "It is alright. I wasn't expecting you to be here," I say honestly.
"I come into work at six every morning."
Six! I couldn't hide my shock on my face.
What the fuck!
When does he want me to come in? Five a.m?
He chuckles, a deep sound that echoes lightly in the room. As if he could read my spiraling thoughts, he says, "It is okay, you are not mandated to come in before me."
"Whew!" I wiped the invisible sweat from my face, rousing another deep chuckle from him.
I love his laughter. It sounds like rain, soothing and unrestrained.
As soon as the thought crossed my mind, I quickly pinched myself, reminding myself that I am supposed to hate this gorgeous specimen of manhood.
"I am glad you liked the doughnut." There was warmth in his blue eyes, as if he were happy to have pleased me.
What is his deal? Why is he spoiling this 'hate him' slash 'take him down' campaign? Why is he not acting like the arsehole he was in the past?
I don't buy it that people can change. A snake remains a snake its entire life, but honestly, I am perplexed by the one-eighty personality change.
Maybe he has dissociative identity disorder, and here is the good one.
My face heats up at the reminder that he caught me moaning over doughnuts like the doughnuts were pleasuring me.
"How did you know it was my favorite?" I look at him curiously.
A smug smirk tugged at the corners of his thin lips. He looked pretty pleased with himself. "I always do my homework before I hire anyone."
Fuck! My heart lurches to my throat. Did he investigate me? What did he find? Does he know?
I panicked, scared of what secrets his investigation might have unearthed.
I wouldn't put it past him to know everything, and instead of calling me out, he would choose to toy with me. That is the arsehole I know.
"Hey, don't look so petrified. Your secrets are safe with me, and I don't believe they impact your ability to do your job in any way."
His kind words aren't helping my anxiety. I need to know what he knows.
Bravely, I looked him in the eyes. "What secrets are you talking about?"
"I will tell you later; right now, we need to get back to work. I believe I have an early meeting today." He smiles as if to soften his rejection.
"Of course. I am sorry," I apologized.
He dismissed my apology. "There is no need for apologies," he says softly with a sincere expression.
I don't buy his good boss attitude. I can't. Not when I know the evil he is capable of.
Instead of going to his office to review his day's itinerary, we stayed at mine, and after we finished, he took his leave, leaving his very masculine perfume behind.
Alone, I drifted into my mind, feeling depressed and worried about what he knows, but amidst my troubled mind, I found the strength to go back to work as if my life wasn't at stake, until I was interrupted by the click- clack sound of heels.
I look up to see a very flamboyantly dressed woman walking by my cubicle and heading straight for Ryan's office.
Fuck!
I fly off my seat to quickly intercept her. Ryan is on a conference call and left very specific instructions: he is not to be disturbed, even if the building is collapsing.
I added the last part, but he did emphasize the 'do not disturb' part.
"Excuse me!" I yelled, hurrying out of my cubicle to block the woman's path.
What kind of person walks past the assistant like she is invisible to see the boss?
The woman stops before she could run into me and looks at me. I believe she is, because I can't see half of her fucking face with the huge dark glasses she's wearing.
"And you are?" She enquires haughtily, with her nose turned up.
"Lyra Spencer, Mr. Blackwell's assistant."
This time, I could feel she was taking a trip along my form. She doesn't hide it, and when she arrived at my face, she looked unimpressed; in fact, she looked angry.
"And here I thought we were done hiring your kind," she sneers.
"What do you mean?" I look at her, puzzled.
"Whores, darling," she spits at me.