Remind me to curse Sloane's fortuneteller because that woman probably cursed me when she said the rubbish she said!

Because! If not for her, would I be standing in front of these large oak double doors contemplating if I should kneel and beg Xavier Steele or threaten with suicide?

Of course, it has nothing to do with that I insulted my billionaire boss and called him crazy to his face in the presence of an audience.

Aaaargghhh!

I straighten the non-existent creases on my grey- colored sleeveless dress, and knock.

"Good morning sir. Hazel Dawson at your service." I say cringing at how my voice sounds.

"Is the colour of your dress a depiction of your mood when working Miss Dawson?"

Goodness! That rich velvety but cold voice. You'll agree with me if you hear it as well.

"Not at all sir." I reply staring at his tousled hair.

Who has a tousled hair early in the morning? My billionaire boss, that's who.

"Your desk is the empty one outside. I'll call you through the intercom if I need you."

"Is that all sir?" I ask bewildered.

"Were you expecting something else?"

"Not at all sir."

'Except maybe that you lift up your head if you want to address me?' I add inwardly.

************

I think Xavier Steele is a ticking bomb.

I've been coming to the office as his new secretary since Tuesday and he hasn't given me any bit of work. His emails, appointments, dislikes or likes, I have no idea about.

I have asked, trust me, I'm not a lazy ass.

Since he's seen my face, I'm sitting on edge waiting for him to talk about it.

The elephant in the room.

It's terrible trust me. I'm walking around with fear covering my tippy toes if he recognizes me and when he does, if he'll fire me.

I'm supposed to be happy right? A pay bump from 50,000$ to 108,000$ base salary is nice right?.

I don't even have any work to do that might waste the day away, so I'm here playing Call of Duty (COD), my back slouched against this beautiful ergonomic chair.

My thumbs fly across the screen, my eyes dutifully locked on the last enemy soldier in the match .... just a little bit of stealth with the right positioned headshot ---

Bang!

A stack of papers lands on my desk like a brick hitting concrete. My hands flop causing my phone to fall to the floor.

Shit.

"Digitize this." Mr. Coffee bastard barks at me.

"By this afternoon, I want you to memorize the faces of everyone here. They have appointments this afternoon." he tosses a fairly light bunch of papers onto the table.

My gaze flickers to him, "I could have memorized it if I was the one who set the appointments, you know? Like doing my job properly."

"Here I was thinking giving you time to familiarize yourself with the job will make me seem like someone with common sense." he shrugs at me dismissively.

"What I mean to say is that having to learn all these faces by noon is a tough feat." I press my lips into a thin line.

"Seems to me that it's easier than having your precious coffee spilt, lady."

I stare at his retreating back for a moment bothered that ---

Wait ---

He remembered?

Fuck!

But he's been acting like he doesn't!

Shit!

I grab my phone off the floor inspecting it for cracks first - don't ask me why, priorities or maybe I was trying to build my courage to destroy my remaining life in corporate America - and hurry after him.

I'll burst into his office and tell him why he shouldn't fire someone like me, or even worse, make my life miserable and hope he doesn't.

I push the door open with the flourish of a movie lawyer defending an innocent client with several charges racked up against him.

And like several times before, hope decides to fail me again.

The tip of my shoe snags on the edge of the corner rug, pushing my body forward.

Next thing I know, I'm sprawled out on the cold floor, my mouth kissing the floor cleaner.

What just happened?!

I lay there for a second considering whether to fake death or if terrible work conditions would work if I decide to sue Xavier Steele aka. Mr. Coffee bastard.

"So the coffee stain was too lonely? You had to throw yourself on the floor to get a matching marble pattern on your dress?"

If there's a cult where people are gathering to curse their bosses into the most terrible life ever, I want to sign up.

It's been exactly six weeks, four days, three hours and six minutes since I started working as Mr. Coffee bastard's secretary. Two weeks since my embarrassing failure to show and prove my level of importance where I had a tryst with the floor in front of my annoyingly handsome boss.

No. Wait.

Scratch that.

The issue now is, I think I'll resign on my own. Coffee bastard has won the game. I refuse to play any more games with a petty nepo baby.

I'm too broke for that.

And I mean it literally too. From running to the printer to get new documents, to typing, setting appointments and trying to learn Mr. Coffee bastard preferences, my feet grow fresh set of blisters everyday.

"Good afternoon."

I look up to see someone approach me. His confident swagger into the office like he owns it makes me frown.

I frown a little, why didn't the lower level receptionist inform me that someone was coming to see Coffee bastard?

Or even better still, why didn't security stop this handsome-ness since Coffee bastard does not have any more meetings today?. Thankfully.

"How may I help you?" I ask, giving a professional smile.

Also would it be unprofessional to stare with a gaping mouth? Because that's what my brain's telling me to do.

This man's got a drool- worthy face.

While he didn't have the conservative, beastly and arrogant charm that Xavier wore like a second skin, this blue-eyed man was better looking than most models.

"Is Xavier in?" he asks, giving me a disarming smile.

Goodness. Celebrities should be grateful this man is not in the same industry as they are. This type of face would rival most of their's without breaking a sweat.

Ice blue eyes stare at me, his lips tilted upward in an almost-have smile. His blonde hair sits on top of his head in a messy mop, the veins on his hand prominent for all to see.

"Do you intend to see Mr. Steele?" I ask, enforcing a stricter professional tone.

"I was in the neighbourhood, so I decided to say hi to that idiot." he laughs gently, playing with the pencil on my desk.

We agree on the same thing!

That Xavier Steele is an idiot!

I like this man.

Unfortunately, I have to do my job.

Pinching my self on my thigh to prevent myself from smiling, I say, "You have no appointment with Mr. Steele."

"I'll just pop my head in for a few minutes."

I roll my eyes inwardly.

Are all handsome greek gods blockheads?

"Mr. Steele is not in." I say firmly.

"Xavier's not in?"

"Mr. Steele is not in the office. Do you mind coming another time?" I ask, clearing my throat.

"I'll wait for him in his office." he says and walks past my desk towards Xavier's office.

What the--

I race after him, turning around him to stand in front of him with my arms widespread.

"Do not let me call security on you sir!." I say firmly.

Mr. Newcomer scoffs pushing me lightly and opens the large oak door encompassing the entrance to Xavier's office strolling in.

Shit. Coffee bastard is going to have another reason to pour hot coals on me.

I follow hot on handsome but rude man heels, "I'm sorry Mr. Steele. He pushed his way in." I say looking at my boss who stands up from his desk to exchange a handshake with the newcomer.

"Don't sweat it. He's allowed to come in without an appointment." Coffee bastard says.

"Oh."

"This is Alexander Dunn." Coffee bastard quirks an eyebrow at me.

"Of the Dunn Industries?" My eyes widen.

"Guilty as charged, love." Mr. Newcomer winks at me, the corner of his lip in an upward mocking tilt, a light British accent noticeable.

I bristle, standing straight, "Noted Mr. Steele. Any other person that has the same privilege as Mr. Dunn?"

"None."

"Rachel?" Mr. Newcomer tilts his head towards Coffee bastard grinning evidently.

"Just this idiot." Coffee bastard ignores newcomer question.

I guess they must be close, seeing as their pet names for each other seems to be the word 'idiot'.

I can't imagine calling Sloane idiot or her calling me that, honestly. We'd argue and quarrel all night.

"Would you like to have coffee or tea?" I ask.

"Screw it if you don't have alcohol." Mr. Newcomer waves me away.

"It's alright Hazel." My boss says, going to sit opposite his friend on the couch.

"Noted sir." I say and walk out of the office, my ears burning with anger mixed with embarrassment.

Are all nepo babies brought up to insult we bottom ladders?

Or is it only open to those as handsome greek gods?

If there's a cult where people are gathering to curse their bosses into the most terrible life ever, I want to sign up.

It's been exactly six weeks, four days, three hours and six minutes since I started working as Mr. Coffee bastard's secretary. Two weeks since my embarrassing failure to show and prove my level of importance where I had a tryst with the floor in front of my annoyingly handsome boss.

No. Wait.

Scratch that.

The issue now is, I think I'll resign on my own. Coffee bastard has won the game. I refuse to play any more games with a petty nepo baby.

I'm too broke for that.

And I mean it literally too. From running to the printer to get new documents, to typing, setting appointments and trying to learn Mr. Coffee bastard preferences, my feet grow fresh set of blisters everyday.

"Good afternoon."

I look up to see someone approach me. His confident swagger into the office like he owns it makes me frown.

I frown a little, why didn't the lower level receptionist inform me that someone was coming to see Coffee bastard?

Or even better still, why didn't security stop this handsome-ness since Coffee bastard does not have any more meetings today?. Thankfully.

"How may I help you?" I ask, giving a professional smile.

Also would it be unprofessional to stare with a gaping mouth? Because that's what my brain's telling me to do.

This man's got a drool- worthy face.

While he didn't have the conservative, beastly and arrogant charm that Xavier wore like a second skin, this blue-eyed man was better looking than most models.

"Is Xavier in?" he asks, giving me a disarming smile.

Goodness. Celebrities should be grateful this man is not in the same industry as they are. This type of face would rival most of their's without breaking a sweat.

Ice blue eyes stare at me, his lips tilted upward in an almost-have smile. His blonde hair sits on top of his head in a messy mop, the veins on his hand prominent for all to see.

"Do you intend to see Mr. Steele?" I ask, enforcing a stricter professional tone.

"I was in the neighbourhood, so I decided to say hi to that idiot." he laughs gently, playing with the pencil on my desk.

We agree on the same thing!

That Xavier Steele is an idiot!

I like this man.

Unfortunately, I have to do my job.

Pinching my self on my thigh to prevent myself from smiling, I say, "You have no appointment with Mr. Steele."

"I'll just pop my head in for a few minutes."

I roll my eyes inwardly.

Are all handsome greek gods blockheads?

"Mr. Steele is not in." I say firmly.

"Xavier's not in?"

"Mr. Steele is not in the office. Do you mind coming another time?" I ask, clearing my throat.

"I'll wait for him in his office." he says and walks past my desk towards Xavier's office.

What the--

I race after him, turning around him to stand in front of him with my arms widespread.

"Do not let me call security on you sir!." I say firmly.

Mr. Newcomer scoffs pushing me lightly and opens the large oak door encompassing the entrance to Xavier's office strolling in.

Shit. Coffee bastard is going to have another reason to pour hot coals on me.

I follow hot on handsome but rude man heels, "I'm sorry Mr. Steele. He pushed his way in." I say looking at my boss who stands up from his desk to exchange a handshake with the newcomer.

"Don't sweat it. He's allowed to come in without an appointment." Coffee bastard says.

"Oh."

"This is Alexander Dunn." Coffee bastard quirks an eyebrow at me.

"Of the Dunn Industries?" My eyes widen.

"Guilty as charged, love." Mr. Newcomer winks at me, the corner of his lip in an upward mocking tilt, a light British accent noticeable.

I bristle, standing straight, "Noted Mr. Steele. Any other person that has the same privilege as Mr. Dunn?"

"None."

"Rachel?" Mr. Newcomer tilts his head towards Coffee bastard grinning evidently.

"Just this idiot." Coffee bastard ignores newcomer question.

I guess they must be close, seeing as their pet names for each other seems to be the word 'idiot'.

I can't imagine calling Sloane idiot or her calling me that, honestly. We'd argue and quarrel all night.

"Would you like to have coffee or tea?" I ask.

"Screw it if you don't have alcohol." Mr. Newcomer waves me away.

"It's alright Hazel." My boss says, going to sit opposite his friend on the couch.

"Noted sir." I say and walk out of the office, my ears burning with anger mixed with embarrassment.

Are all nepo babies brought up to insult we bottom ladders?

Or is it only open to those as handsome greek gods?