HANDSOME SCOUNDREL

I expressed, "According to my father, the most effective approach to learning a profession is to dedicate every moment to observing someone else carry it out." In other words, he believed in the significance of learning from an experienced mentor and taking notes on their strategies and techniques. By doing so, one can acquire the necessary skills and knowledge to excel in their field.

My father's advice was not limited to simply learning the basics of a job; he emphasized the importance of starting at the bottom and working one's way up. He suggested becoming an indispensable right-hand person for the CEO, learning every aspect of their work, and becoming an expert in their industry. This way, one can prove their worth and be recognized for their skills and dedication, eventually being promoted to the top.

"To get the job at the top, you've got to start at the bottom,' he said to me," I recounted, remembering my father's words of advice. "He told me to become an indispensable employee for the CEO." Become their right hand. When you complete your degree, they will hire you if you learn about their world.

"I had grown to be indispensable. "I can't deny it, I have become an indispensable asset to my boss, Mr. Robert Ramirez just as my father advised," I exclaimed. As his trusted right-hand person, I had spent countless hours learning his world, observing him work, and picking up on his every habit and preference."

"I was proud of my position, and the effort I put into it had yielded multiple benefits," I stated. I was climbing the corporate ladder at a rapid pace, and my dedication had earned me the respect of my colleagues and the admiration of my boss. But despite my success, I couldn't deny the intense feelings of frustration and anger that arose whenever I thought of Mr. Ramirez."

"In this scenario, I happened to be the right-hand person who felt the urge to slap the damn face on most days," I said, my frustration evident in my tone.

"Mr. Robert Ramirez, my supervisor. I called him "Handsome Scoundrel," the moniker I had given him. He was tall, handsome, and wholly wicked, and the idea of him made my stomach tighten. He was the most arrogant, self-righteous jerk I'd ever encountered. I used to wonder whether a pretty look was all it required when I overheard the other ladies in the workplace chatting about his antics. However, my father said, "You learn early on that beauty is only skin-deep, and ugly goes straight to the bone." I had dated a few guys in high school and college, and I'd had my fair share of terrible men during the last several years. However, this one was the best.

"Well, hello, Miss Brown!" As I entered the anteroom of Mr. Ramirez's office, I found him standing there with a sly smile on his face. "Well, hello Miss Brown!" he said in a voice that was honeyed and smooth, but there was something off about it. "It was like honey left to freeze and crack on ice," he continued, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes at his attempt to charm me.

With a deep exhale, I voiced my frustration to Mr. Ramirez, "After a string of mishaps this morning - spilling water on my phone, dropping my earrings into the garbage disposal, and getting rear-ended on the interstate - the last thing I needed was to deal with a sour and irritable Mr. Ramirez."

Mr. Ramirez's smirk only grew wider as I spoke. "Sounds like you've had quite the morning, Miss Brown," he said, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "You needn't fret, Miss Brown. I'll put forth my utmost effort to improve your day," said Mr. Ramirez reassuringly.

I couldn't help but feel a sense of dread wash over me as he spoke. Mr. Ramirez was known for his cruel and vindictive nature, and the last thing I wanted was to be on the receiving end of his wrath.

With a bitter laugh, I muttered to myself, "Too bad he didn't come in any other taste."

I said my standard "Good morning" to Mr. Ramirez and hoped to get his polite nod in response. He questioned me about the time and made fun of me for being late as I made an effort to go by him. I paused and turned to face him, feeling little next to his enormous stature. Since Dad returned to the family firm nine months ago, I had stopped wearing heels that I formerly thought were excessively high in order to be closer to his eye level. I worked for Ramirez Media Group for six years. I had to crane my head, however, to gaze up at him, and he seemed to like that.

He responded angrily, lamenting the challenges he faced without me when I said that I had a bit of a disaster morning and that it wouldn't happen again. He had to individually contact individuals to resolve conflicts that I should have resolved. Insinuating that I was being lazy for not getting up and working before the brunch hour, he made a point of stating that he had done so.

He was still gazing at me and had his arms crossed over his chest as I looked up at him. I didn't look at his finely made suit, which displayed his strong shoulders, or allow him to frighten me. At the hotel gym, I made the error of spotting him without a shirt on, and I will never forget the sight of him wiping his chest with it.

Despite his attractiveness, I could not tolerate his snobbish demeanor. When he spotted me in the gym, he once said something sarcastic, implying that I was only starting to show an interest in physical health. He was obviously enjoying knocking me down, which gave me the motivation I needed to succeed.

I apologized to Mr. Ramirez with just a trace of bite. "I recognize the strain I put on you by requiring you to use a fax machine and answer the phone. I have said it wouldn't happen again.

"You're right, it won't," he said, keeping his haughty grin in place.

It would be wonderful if he would just shut up. Duct tape would work well in this situation. I had some on my desk that I would periodically take out and admire in the hopes that I may utilize it eventually.

He added, "I'd want to have the entire status tables for the Schaffer, Colton, and Beaumont projects on my desk by five, just so you don't let this event escape your mind. Then, at six o'clock, you're going to make up for the hour you missed this morning by giving me a fake board presentation of the Papadakis account. You must demonstrate to me that you are competent if you are going to handle this account.

As I saw him walk away and shut his office door behind him, my eyes widened. He was fully aware that I had completed this project—which doubled as my MBA thesis—earlier than expected. Once the contracts were signed—which they weren't—they hadn't even been properly drafted—I still had months to finish my slides. He asked me to create a fake board presentation in spite of the fact that I already had a lot on my plate. I regarded my watch. If I missed lunch, that's great, seven and a half hours. I started by opening the Papadakis file.