From what I understand, his office is right next to my desk, so why he insists on talking to me on the phone instead of having me step into his office is beyond me. Of course, I never question him about it, but the mystique of it all has my overactive imagination conjuring up all sorts of scenarios.
I wonder if he's hideous or severely scarred or something. Though judging by his voice, hesoundslike he's a very attractive man. I know that sounds crazy. How can you tell how physically attractive someone is based on their voice alone? You shouldn't be able to, but Stephan's voice is like rich velvet. It warms me from the inside out when I hear it.
And call me crazy, but the way his tongue seems to roll over the syllables of my name is like he's caressing it.
I shake my head and go back to entering data into the computer. I'm probably just over-romanticizing everything because of his mysterious nature.
Still, my overly curious self couldn't help googling my employer to try to get a glimpse of him. My efforts were fruitless, though, because there was nothing. A few brief biographies and business writings, but nothing about his personal life and certainly no pictures.
Overall, I really like my new job here at Argyle Incorporated, mysterious boss aside. When he speaks to me on the phone every day, he's always warm, and the tasks he gives me to do have proven fairly easy so far.
And believe it or not, he still sends James to drive me to work every day. I don't know if that's normal policy for personal assistants, but Stephan insists on it, telling me it's no trouble. His tone brooks no argument too, so I don't fight him on it, thinking that maybe it's another one of his eccentricities. Besides, I'd much rather be driven to work every day in a plush luxury vehicle than have to take public transportation that'll take me twice as long and add ten times to my stress level.
I don't know if it's because I'm no longer walking on the street, but I no longer feel that pin-prickling sensation at the back of my neck. Maybe it's just that I'm more well-rested now. I work standard office hours, so my schedule is finally "normal." I'm not working crazy swing shifts and going back in after just four hours off. I'm actually able to get seven straight hours of sleep at night—sometimes more.
Sherry firing me is turning out to be the best thing that ever happened to me. I work at a desk now, and no one bothers me. I don't have to paste a fake smile on my face just to get tips. Instead, any smile that I have is genuine and unforced.
My heart does a little flip in my chest when the phone on my desk rings.
I answer it and am greeted by Stephan's rich voice.
"Elena," he caresses my name in that way of his, and I nearly melt into a puddle just at the sound of his voice. Maybe that's the real reason Mr. Argyle keeps himself hidden away. If he's even half as attractive as his voice sounds, then maybe he's too good-looking for mortal eyes. Maybe he has to keep himself hidden to keep women from jumping him every time he walks down the street.
Of course, thoughts of him walking down the street cause me to wonder how he gets to work every day. Surely, he doesn't live here, yet I never see him enter or leave his office.
Maybe he comes in super early before anyone else is here and leaves after everyone else has already gone home before he emerges. That's the only explanation I can think of for why no one ever sees him.
Yet, it's odd. The few people I've talked to here all talk as if they've seen Stephan before. Cathy, who runs the copying room and handles all the print materials, gets stars in her eyes when she mentions his name, which further makes me believe he's a dreamboat. Roy, the mailman, made a comment about how strange it was that Mr. Argyle was suddenly requesting that all his mail be dropped off to me, his assistant, rather than taken to him directly.
Apparently, Stephan just recently started being so reclusive. In fact, I'm probably the only employee who hasn't seen him before.
"Elena," Stephan repeats my name again, snapping me out of my stupor.
I clear my throat and attempt to act halfway professional even though my cheeks are flaming, though why they are I don't know because it's not like Stephan can see me or anything. We're just talking on the phone.
"Yes? I'm sorry. I'm here. Can I help you with something, Stephan?" I give him my full attention. I thought it would be odd to call my boss by his first name, but somehow it isn't. It just feels normal. He's always addressed me by my first name as well, and it gives us an air of intimacy that leaves me blushing, as ridiculous as it is.
I was a bit shocked to hear that all the other employees refer to him as Mr. Argyle, though. I don't know why he insists I call him by his given name. Maybe it's because I'm his PA, and I work more closely with him.
I think I hear amusement in his tone when he says, "I was going to let you go home early today if you wanted. I have an engagement out of the office, so I think I'm closing down shop early today."
"Oh," I blink with surprise. "Sure thing. Thank you!"
I can't remember the last time anyone let me off work early. Usually, it's the other way around. They were always wanting me to work overtime, so this is a nice change.
I already know exactly what I'm going to do when I get home.
Absolutely nothing.
"Is there anything else you need before I go?" I ask him politely, not wanting to seem too eager to leave my new job, which I truly am grateful for.
There's a long silence before Stephan finally speaks again. His voice is so low I almost have to strain to hear it. "No, Elena, your presence is more than enough."
The line disconnects after that odd statement. I blink again and stare down quizzically at the receiver I'm still holding in my hand.
What an odd thing to say...
But then again, Stephan is nothing if not odd.Eccentricis the correct word for my rich, mysterious employer, I believe.