Upon entering the premises, I was suddenly engulfed in a cold, clammy sensation that settled uneasily in my stomach—as if I had just swallowed a whole ice cube. I slowed my pace and convinced myself that this is just first-day jitters we feel when we enter class at the start of a new school year…except that it's work this time. But this is hardly the first time I've gone to work, neither was this the first time I'll be working as a secretary. 'See, so I shouldn't have any worries at all,' I told myself mentally as I pushed the button to the ninth floor. I took a deep breath and let it out softly as I stepped off the elevator. Instead of feeling relieved however, I felt like I'm overly aware of the sound of my heels clicking in the hallway. A feeling prickled from the back of my neck; as if I'm walking towards the bear trap. The anxiety must have painted my face then, for Lynn, this floor's receptionist, gave a rueful smile in my direction. Pushing open the door to my new office, I felt the breath get knocked from my lungs as a towering figure slammed the phone on my desk down before those steel grey eyes glared at me as if I've just committed the most heinous crime of the century.
"You're late," he spat, and my mouth felt dry in an instant.
My eyes flew swiftly to my wristwatch and saw it was still two minutes early—wait, two minutes early?! I stood there, rooted to my spot and mouth open like a gaping fish. A soft knock resounded beside me and those eyes shifted to the door.
"Enter," he called out before running his fingers through his hair.
"I see you've already met," and from my peripheral vision, came Lynn. "Sir, with all due respect, it's her first day so please be civil at least. It was tough screening for applicants that meet your standards."
The man before me only huffed, his handsome visage marred by annoyance. 'Handsome.' I internally slapped myself.
"This is Kaitlyn Adams; she'll be your new secretary from now on." The glare was on me once more, yet I can't muster enough strength to say something or anything at all. "Well," Lynn said, a tone of finality lacing her voice, but her eyes conveyed the same apologetic look from earlier, "I'll leave you both to get acquainted now. If you need anything, I'll be at my station."
And so the door slid close, leaving me with my boss in a room where the air is stuffy and a bead of sweat slowly working its way down my back. A few minutes passed before his glare finally abated and sighed. His hand raked through his hair before the same hand beckoned me to come closer. With no other option, I did, with wobbling steps. Up close, he looked even larger and more intimidating…and at that moment, I realized that this person knows his worth and charm, and is not afraid to wield these if it means coming out with the upper hand. Under that scrutinizing gaze though, I feel like I'll either melt, or burst. "Now that you'll be working under me," he spoke, with a tone so low it almost sounded like a threat, "You'll have to play by my rules." I nodded, but apparently looking at his shoes doesn't mean you understand his point. A sudden pressure lifted my eyes to his; I did not have enough time to register the fact that it was his finger on my chin.
"They say you passed the requirements I put up," he continued, with his eyes issuing a challenge, "but the truth is you've yet to prove you're worth my time, my money and my trust. Show me how competent you truly are. Do I make myself clear?"
I nodded once more; vocal chords seemed to have forgotten its responsibility.
"Good," he then smirked—if not for the finger holding my chin up, I'm sure I'd be gaping like a fish again. "Now," he continued, now heading to his door, "I want you to be here before I do. Arrange my schedule of the day for me and ask me first before relaying a call to my desk. If I see you spending more than five minutes on a call, or going over your hour-worth of break, expect a reprimand. Do it again and you're out."
He stood in front of his door now, playing with his cuffs with that smug smile intact. "Oh, and one last thing," he turned to me one last time and I was almost overwhelmed with how that arrogant face looked so hot right now. "Try to survive for at least a month; I don't want HR breathing down my neck right now, okay?"
I blinked and he's gone. Now that I'm alone to sort my thoughts, I sat and tried to sort stacked folders but my heart still thundered in my chest. I felt, suddenly, that the center of this man's attention is a very bad place to be.
It's 2018 and I've just re-read this story; it would make for a good Jumin Han from Mystic Messenger fanfic, don't you think?
I forgot to make note of it, but this story came forth from a fiction prompt: "The center of this man's attention is a very bad place to be."
Thank you so much for reading! I appreciate the reviews so far, and I definitely will consider expanding and/or converting this to something else!