Chapter 4

Savannah

My eyes blare open in perfect unison with the blaring alarm. There’s no way I’m sleeping into another alarm over an opportunity that I’ve been expecting for years.

I spring out of bed and do everything I’m supposed to do, like an automated robot. I shower, having perfected the quickest routine during my periods of boredom and ample free time at home.

Safe to say, six months taught me how to be an early bird.

I prepared my white shirt and brown skirt yesterday, so I can easily get dressed today.

“Good morning to the favorite man in my life!” I throw my hands around my father, who still hunches tiredly over his drawing desk. I doubt he had much sleep over the night, and soon enough, it would be me scolding him on how not to overwork himself.

“You’re up early. I’m sure most organizations don’t resume till at least nine.” His voice is still sharp, meaning that he didn’t sleep. If he did, his voice would be croaky and hoarse.

“Well, you can take this as me prepping my career as an early bird.” I do a little cute sway.

He stands up straight, much taller than I am, and begins walking to the area of the house that gives my stomach an excited jiggle.

The kitchen.

I follow him excitedly, like a child, aware of what’s coming next. We talk about work ethics as he makes a breakfast of bacon and eggs with pancakes for thirty minutes.

“Don’t do anything physically strenuous, especially if it’s going to affect your left leg.”

“Yes, Dad.”

“Try as much as possible to make sure your work doesn’t entail you standing for a long time. I’ve already talked to Mr. Buchanan, so he should see to whoever is assigning you, but if you must explain, do it.”

“Of course, Dad.” I roll my eyes for the billionth time.

Of course, our little chit-chat is him giving me instructions to the ‘T’ on how to conduct myself when I get there, especially involving my healing leg. It gets tiresome over time, but I grab the most important ones.

It’s amusing how I’m the injured victim, but somehow, he knows more about my body in relation to those injuries than I do.

Breakfast is lazy since I have a lot of time to kill, and even the trip to work is very smooth. The only patch of roughness is the one that grates against my nerves, causing me to be anxious over ‘goodness knows what.’

I take the bus instead of taking my car or my dad’s for obvious reasons. We would have ridden in my dad’s car if he was available, but he had a lot of work to do. There really is no need to bother him so much… and I would rather take the five-mile trek to work than sit behind a steering wheel again.

When I finally arrive at the place, I’m surprised to see that it’s a hotel.

Quite a luxurious one, at that.

I’m going to have a heavenly time here as a white-collar worker or a hellish, torturous one working with the blue-collar worker. Either way, it will be the time of my life. I guarantee I will put in whatever is the best I can offer to whatever designation I’m assigned.

“Good morning.” I greet the receptionist with a smile, sliding my file in her direction. My father handed it to me this morning. She doesn’t even check the content, suggesting she likely recognizes the big red seal on the back of the file before passing an equally cheery smile.

“Good morning, Miss Suarez. Mr. Du Bois is expecting you on the eleventh floor.” She comes around out of her enclave behind the desk and leads the way. I love how smartly dressed it is.

Of course, my enthusiasm made me slightly better dressed, but this just goes to show that people put extra effort here. There will be no lazy days.

“It’s quite unusual to have someone come in for an interview on a weekend, but this is Du Bois Towers,” she chuckles. “This place defies conventions. What position are you coming in for?”

If only I knew.

I respond by shaking my head, fully aware of my uncertainty about the upcoming role. “Honestly, I’m about to find out after this elevator ride.” I turn my cluelessness into a joke, and it works perfectly. She laughs the topic off and begins tales of the company and it’s amazing how much she knows after just a year of working here. She eventually wishes me good luck before leaving me in front of the door.

“You’ll need it.” She leaves me with those last words before turning to leave.

I suppressed whatever nerves I had when talking to her returned immediately, and I began trembling.

A gruff voice tells me to come in, and I enter once I calm down. The wooden door is heavy but easy to push.

“You must be Miss Savannah Suarez. Welcome.” Rich baritones melt my insides as he talks. His voice is supposed to be frail and weakening.

He’s around my father’s age, for goodness’ sake. Is he supposed to stand that tall?

That’s a muscular man for someone in his sixties…

The thoughts fly through my head at a light speed as I try to assess the person a few feet before me.

Dark… no, jet black hair and beard, paired with young, vibrant eyes.

This is not Mr. Du Bois. It’s a Greek God as his assistant or something, but from what my father told me, not Mr. Du Bois.

“I apologize. I was expecting to meet with Mr. Du Bois. I can wait outside if he’s not available now.” I turn to leave, but the enchanting voice stops me dead in my tracks again.

“Actually, I am Mr. Du Bois—Victors Du Bois. I understand there might have been some confusion about which Du Bois you were going to be meeting. HR’s fault… which is mine because I oversee the HR.” He takes a sigh before continuing. “Have you had prior experience as an executive assistant?”

I shake my head, trying to get the corresponding words to come out, but he continues before I do.

“Perfect. Frankly, I have never had an assistant or intended to have one, so… we could both help ourselves here. You stay out of my way, and I’ll ensure you keep your job. Good?” he raises an eyebrow.

We’ve just met… he’s also really handsome and all, but I can’t help but oppose him.