Chapter 2. Panicking

**CHERYL**

“What are you still doing here? It's coffee break already. And the last I checked, coffee breaks are meant to be spent in the cafe.

I glanced up at the cheery voice of one of my colleagues, Ellie Palmer, just in time to see her step into my office with a charming grin plastered on her lips.

“I know,” I sighed, and pushed up my glasses higher on my nose. “But I can't leave my desk right now. I have loads of work to attend to.”

In a spilt-second, her face fell like a wadded piece of paper. “That's what you said yesterday too,” she pointed out suckily, and her eyes narrowed on my face. “You're not avoiding any of us, are you?”

I snorted. “No, of course not! You guys are like family to me, why would I just start ignoring you guys out of the blues?”

Ellie tilted her head and contemplated my answer. “Fair point.”

“Exactly.” 

“But I still think you should come with us. Chef came up with a new recipe and he wants us to do a little taste-test for him, before he officially puts it on the menu.”

My stomach chose that moment to rumble and I pressed a palm to it under the table. God! How hard can this get.

Ominously sensing that she could be getting to me, Ellie pushed out her bottom lip in an overly dramatic but cute pout. “Please, pretty, please.” she batted her eyelashes. “It's even one of those chocalatey-thingy you love so much.”

 I gulped. Hard. God! Chocolate is one of my weaknesses. I mean, try paring it with a hot cup of dark roast coffee and you will be hurled to a Haven of pure bliss.

I'm tempted to drop everything to satisfy my sweet tooth and caffeine craving but it's not worth facing the wrath of my boss.

With slumped shoulders, I pointed to the stack of files positioned at one corner of my desk. “Mr. Heron wants all of those updated before he gets back today.”

“That's what you said yesterday when I dropped by,” Ellie said with a chuckle.

My hand stilled for a moment, slightly suspended over the papers spread across my desk. My sight turns blurry behind my glasses and I gulped down nothing down my sudden parched throat. Oh, God! Please don't remind me of yesterday, I still get goosebumps every now and then.

Ellie who was oblivious to the emotions rioting in my stomach, patted the top of my hand fondly. “I guess am just going to save some of the chocolatey-thingy for you then.”

I flashed her a tight, grim smile. “Yeah, you do just that.”

She turned on her heels and threw me a pitiful look over her shoulder. “See you around, Cheryl.” she slinked out through the door, leaving it slightly open the way I like it.

Heaving a deep sigh of resignation, I turned back to my work. Soon, am done with updating the files and started with the screening of emails directed to Mr. Heron, I screened them before forwarding the important ones to his private email.

Somewhere in between my work, my gaze drifted to my phone which was sitting comfortably on my desk and my eyes narrowed in on it. Before I can stop myself, I reached across the desk and grabbed the phone. 

I dialed Gwen's number immediately. It rang two times before she picked up.

“2 hours, 35 minutes and 48 seconds. You held out well,not bad,” she began.

“What ar–”

“On a scale of 1 to 10, how panicky are you right now? That's why you called, right?” she asked.

“Who? Me? Naa, I don't think so.” I tsked, but my fingers flexed around the phone anxiously in disagreement with my words.

“Uh-uh,” she said knowingly, and it was almost as if I could clearly decipher the proud smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Ok!” I finally admitted. “Maybe, I'm nervous a tiny bit.”

“A bit, huh?”

“Ok, maybe a lot,” I amended.

“And I have told you that there's nothing to worry your pretty head over,” she instantly chided me. “He's not going to fire you.”

“But you saw that email yourself, right? How come he of all people didn't reprimand or call me out on my tardiness and lateness, and possibly make me sign a blood oath or something to make sure something like that doesn't happen in the future.”

“Hmm, if you put that way... You may be right. It's quite odd and very unlike him but from the stories that I've read and heard about him from you, he doesn't come across as someone who would do such a thing over an email. He would've preferred to do the berating physically.”

“That's even worse,” I groaned. 

“In all, I know he wouldn't fire you. I know he's an asshole but he can't be that bigger of an asshole to dismiss you over something so trival.”

I instantly perked up, suddenly ravenous for the tiniest re assurance. “Really?”

“No,” she deadpanned.

I rubbed my hand across my forehead. “For christ sakes, Gwen. Can't you be a little more considerate right now, I'm nearly shitting my pants as it is right now.” I mumbled under my breath.

Gwen's hyena laugh fillled the mouthpiece for two minutes straight and I dropped my forehead to the desk in front of me. Some roommate I have.

“I'm sorry...” she actually chuckled. “But that was so funny! Like, girl, you and I know he wouldn't fire you for anything. No one is ever going to be able to tame or tolerate his rude ass for years like you have done. It's that simple, sweetheart.”

An headache began to throb slightly in the middle of my forehead and I pressed a finger to it, trying to smoother it out. “You make it sound as if I purposely torture myself.”

“Uh-huh, you totally do. And like I always tell you, you could always quit and join me.”

I rolled my eyes heavenward. “Thanks, but no thanks. I'll see you later, Gwen. I have to go now, and don't wait up, I might come in late.” I sneak a peek at the huge paperwork waiting for me, and I inwardly sighed.

“Ya, ya, sure. Captain.” and she promptly hung up. 

I dropped my own phone, exhaled deeply and slide my glasses up higher on my face, my stomach rumbling in nervousness. 

I was already thinking about when he would be back from the official meeting that had stopped him from dropping by this morning... when I heard the elevator doors sliding open discreetly, and it could only mean one thing.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I bolted to my feet and adjusted my glasses which were perched on my nose and frantically brushed down my suit jacket in case of any possible crease. And just then, through my transparent window, my gaze strops in on him as he steps around the corner and turns in my direction.

Perfection in a charcoal gray three-piece suit is headed my way.

Strong aquiline nose, deep-set eyes the color of molten chocolate, high cheekbones, full lips, an outstanding jawline, and luxuriously dark hair.

Did he get even better looking since he left the office this morning?... Yep, he did.

I shook my head because I'm blinded by the masculine beauty that's my boss. Damien Heron doesn't have a soul. Arrogance sits in the place where his soul should be.

He breezed past my door with his signature frown creasing his fine features, no greetings, only leaving a trail of expensive cologne in his wake.

“My office now,” he said in a clipped tone. “Follow me, Miss Chastain.”

Strongly resisting the urge to make faces at his retreating back, I grabbed the small stack of phone messages and my tablet and followed him just as instructed.

He strodes over to his own office door and set down the deep brown Venezia leather laptop briefcase so he can enter in his code. I stood a few feets away, respecting his privacy.

 A tiny beep is heard before he grabbed a hold of the knob connected to the door, twisting the knob, he opened the door and made his way in. 

I lurched forward and grabbed the door with my free hand before it smacked closed. I pushed it open and also stepped into the lion's den.

And am left gobsmacked.

I could never stop admiring the inside decor of his office whenever I walk into it.

It was an enormous office, the glass, chrome, and steel design blended with the rich earthy tone of the room, and it was stylishly furnished with black cushion leather chairs in the sit-out area of the office.

A wide, massive glass desk took up the middle area of the room, and a floor-to-ceiling glass window which was behind the desk gave a stunning view of the downtown skyline of the busy Chicago city.

Breathtaking.

****

**DAMIEN**

I walked to my desk, unbuttoned my suit jacket, before I sat down behind the massive desk. I make myself comfortable and then trained my gaze on my executive assistant of three years... and the longest by count.

My last two assistants were women too. They could have kept their jobs but they were too superficial. They dressed to impress and seduce. My single male clients and even the married ones were entrapped in their web of sophistication. It was a distraction my business didn't need, so I fired them.

My other assistants were either incompetent or couldn't take the brunt of working for me. Six of them sent in their resignation letters before I could even say 'shoot'.

But Cheryl Chastain? She's making an exception. Not only has she broken the record by making it to three years, but she is also technically the best assistant I have ever had... not I am ever going to admit that to anyone.

I ran my gaze down her outfit today, she is dressed in a loose-fitting black gown which was quite professional by the way but did nothing for her shape. The black gown was paired with an equally neat and well-ironed black jacket which came to a stop several inches below her ass. Cheryl puts very little effort into her appearance but still manages to pull off that look between sophisticated and professional.

“How has your day been so far, Mr. Heron?” she asked as she came to a halt in front of my desk. Her singature smile already in place.

“Fine.” I answered, curtly. Picking a random file off my desk, I began to flip through it.

“And the meeting? How was that?”

“Fine,” I repeated, leaving it at that.

She doesn't expect me to elaborate on my answer and certainly doesn't expect me to ask her anything. I know everything there's to know about her. She is twenty-four, has a degree in business, and also has a pretty high I.Q which was some numbers below mine.

 I discarded the file to the side. “I want a coffee in–”

“Your coffee will be ready in ten minutes,” she said and swiped her fingers across the tablet in her grasp. “I've emailed you a proposed schedule for the remainder of the day. Your appointment with Mr. Smith is at 2 pm today which is an hour from now by the way.” 

I nodded, my fingers drumming lowly on the desk.

She stared over my shoulder for a moment before she cleared her throat and glanced down at the tablet in her hand. “And I've also contacted Mr. Moore for his appointment tomorrow morning. He'll be here by 10 on the dot and–”

“Cancel it,” I intercepted without missing a beat.

“Excuse me, what?” she exclaimed clearly thrown off guard.

“I said, cancel it. I had rather not spend time with greedy, opportunistic land developers who claim to care about the needs of the community when all they really care about is fattening their own pockets,” I gave her a look. “I already have low tolerance for people like that, I'd rather skip meeting with this one.”

“But, Mr. Moore has been on the waiting list for over two months. He simply can't be put off any longer,” she said, with that blinding fake smile still in place. If she's frustrated or annoyed, she doesn't show it. She never does. 

“Then put him back on the list. I've got important people to deal with first.” 

Her jaw clenched so hard I thought she might gnash some teeths to pieces. “In that case, I'll set up a meeting with the electrical engineering students which has been long over due.”

Her tone was sweet and endearing but was lightly laced with that long over due annoyance and that was my proof that the all–sweet–loving–cheerful Cheryl might have some dark sides too. 

“You do just that,” I told her and went back to accessing the files on my table.

From the corner of my eye, I caught her shifting on a foot, uneasily. It was a small movement but one I caught all the same. She was nervous about something.

I waited her out.

She opened her mouth as if to say something but, instead pressed them together in a firm line. “Ok, Mr. Heron.”

I nodded. “Have Mr. Smithfield turn in the budget that I asked for last week and forward the report from yesterday to my email now.”

She blinked thrice as if somewhat flagger basted. “Of course, sir.”

“Hmm,” I hummed, silently dismissing her.

A confused look filtered across her face but she immediately smoothered it with another fake–as–fuck smile.

“Alright, I'll be in my office if you need anything.” she said and turned to go.

I just got comfortable in my chair instead. Well if that's how she wants to play it. I will play.

Few metres away from the door, she spun right back. “Isn't there anything you would want to talk to me about, Sir.” she winced slightly as soon as the words left her lips.

Feigning ignorance, I merely cocked my head to the side. My fingers going up to rub my lower lip gingerly. “No. Is there anything you would want to tell me, Ms. Chastain?” I arched a brow at her inquisitively.

Blinking rapidly, she choked out a no and bolted right out of the door.

A smirk appeared on my lips... Well if that's not entertaining.

I certainly needed humour in my life.