Eden
The first day of any new job was exhausting, but today was worse than usual. Today set a new bar. I was no stranger to adversity, or getting along with difficult people. My mother was a prime example. We hadn’t spoken in nearly a year. Just the thought weighed me down even further as I walked down the street from the subway.
I headed home, weary and worn-out from the constant effort of smiling and acting like my new bosses’ exacting standards weren’t insane. The man was a monster. In my bag, I had wine, and a pair of cheap flat ballerina pumps I’d seen on sale on the way home. I trudged up the five-floor walk-up to the apartment I shared with Margot and sagged dramatically through the doorway, kicking off the offensive shoes finally. Then I headed straight for the kitchen. Inside, Margot was cooking, as she usually was, as a budding chef, and the room smelled of garlic and tomatoes, making my stomach growl. I pulled the wine out of the bag, cracked the screw top and took a glug straight from the bottle.
“It went that well, huh?” Margot commented, watching me down several long pulls, before pulling back and making a face at the acidic flavor of the cheapest wine in the shop. She reached out and grabbed the bottle when I went to put it back and turned to the salad she was making in a vast bowl. She shook the bottle over it.
“Hey! Did you just use my wine as salad dressing?” I demanded, sinking into a chair.
“I’m out of vinegar,” she explained, and sniffed it before coughing.
“Don’t be dramatic. It’s fine. I like my wine with a kick,” I told her, taking the bottle back and sipping it. Ok, well, she might have a point. It was vile, but it was calming.
“So, how’s Aslan Securities? Did your new boss notice your shoes?”
“He noticed, and he’s not a fan, apparently. He told me it’s an office, not a club,” I told Margot. Her eyes widened.
“Really? What an asshole.”
“You wouldn’t even believe what an asshole he is, and the worst part… he’s so pretty I want to die,” I complained at her. Margot burst out laughing at that. “You know, beautiful men are my weakness. It’s not fair.”
“You’ve just spent too long studying marble statues with impressive junk and calling it work. It’s an addiction. You need to detox and go on ten dates with some classic tinder bathroom selfie-guys. That will fix you.”
“Fix me how?”
“It’ll remind you that men are pigs, even the hot ones.”
“Margot, he’s not just hot, he’s beautiful. Then he speaks, and ruins it.”
“Yeah, that’s usually the way it is. What’s your strategy, then?”
“Strategy for what?”
“Surviving the job… beating him at his own game. I know you have one. Don’t act coy.” Margot said, nudging me. I grinned at her. Of course, I had a strategy. I always did. The best thing about an asshole was beating them at their own game.
“I do have a plan, in fact, I have several,” I told her, tapping my lip and thinking of Khan Aslan, and his judgemental, rudely sexy face.
“What are you going to do to him?” Margot asked, her eyes gleeful.
“I’m just going to do my job,” I explained. “I’m going to do it so hard, he won’t know what’s hit him.”
* * *
The next morning,I was already waiting for my new boss when he arrived at eight.
“Good morning, Mr Aslan. I’ve put your papers on your desk,” I said smartly, standing up to greet him. He stopped and appraised me. Today I was wearing the ballerina flats, which were hardly more comfortable, but at least I wasn’t in danger of face planting in them. He nodded.
“Thank you,” he said, and turned toward his office. I gave him exactly three minutes before I knocked with his coffee.
“I like it hot, you should know,” he said as I approached. I nodded and passed the cup to him. He frowned at me, clearly expecting that I wouldn’t have met that requirement. He sipped it, and his eyebrows shot up.
“Is that hot enough, sir?” I asked, my saccharinely sweet smile in place. It had to be scalding. I’d smuggled a small heater in and hidden it in my desk so I could warm it on the go. He swallowed and nodded. I pulled my notebook from my pocket and ran through his schedule. I knew it was correct today as I’d spent time yesterday confirming everything.
“Very good. Thank you, Miss Davis,” he said, and raised an eyebrow at me. “Is that everything?” he asked.
“You tell me, sir.” His dark eyes narrowed, and he surprised me by standing up. He rounded the desk slowly, and I felt a weird, hot expectation throughout my entire body. Damn him with his chiselled face and body that looked like he could bench press me if he so fancied it.
“Sir?” he repeated. “I never asked you to call me sir.” He leaned a hip against the desk, close enough to touch if I reached out.
“You seem like the kind of man who’d like to though,” I said, without thinking.
“Do I?” Aslan muttered, tilting his head to the side. “You don’t seem like the kind of woman who’d enjoy it, however.” I shrugged, feeling blood making its way to my face. I had to get out of here before I blushed like a schoolgirl.
“I do what I’m told at work,” I said. Aslan raised an eyebrow.
“At work,” he repeated. He hadn’t said anything wrong, and yet, the tension between us had nothing to do with professionalism right now. We were wandering into dangerous territory, and I couldn’t even bring myself to care.
“At work,” I confirmed. His lips curved in a slight grin, and I realised I hadn’t seen this impressive man smile yet. Not even once. How odd, to be so rich, and yet look so unhappy.
“You’re an interesting woman, Miss Davis, and don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise,” he said finally, surprising me. It could sound like an insult, but in his warm tone, it wasn’t one.
“They wouldn’t dare,” I heard myself say, and backed toward the door. “I will get back to work now, sir,” I said, turning smartly, and escaping the office like hounds were on my heels. I had to stick my head under the cold tap after that exchange. I was meant to be the one flustering him with my impeccable work. I wanted him to eat his words. Kill him with kindness, right? Yet, in a few short sentences, he’d sent my mind straight to the gutter. Margot was right, I’d definitely spent too long studying beautiful men. My mind was addled with lust at the sight of a real live, breathing one.
It was time to get a grip, however, as billionaire business men like Khan Aslan didn’t fall for poor temp workers like me. Not in the real world, anyway. I had to remember that.