Chapter 7

I took a big breath, "I opened the outer office door and stepped in," I stated. There was silence inside Mr. Ramirez's office since the door was closed. Maybe he went outside. Like I could be so fortunate. I took my seat at my desk and opened my drawer to take out my makeup bag. Before returning to my job, I corrected my makeup since I was hesitant to confront him just yet. But if I didn't intend to resign, I would ultimately have to do it.

I saw Mr. Ramirez had a presentation for the other executives on Monday while I was looking through the schedule. When I learned I would need to speak with him today to gather materials, I sighed. When I learned that he would be attending a conference in San Diego the next month, I sighed once more. No awkwardness at all, I repeat.

I kept looking up at his door for the next hour, my stomach churning each time. "This was absurd! Why was I acting strangely? Just as I heard his door open, I put down the document I was trying to read and buried my head in my hands.

Mr. Ramirez left without looking into my eyes. His hair was still a complete disaster, despite the fact that he had adjusted his clothing, thrown his overcoat over his arm, and had a briefcase in his hand. He remarked, oddly calm, "I'm leaving for the remainder of the day. Please change any essential details and cancel my appointments.

I addressed him as "Mr. Ramirez," which caused him to halt and place his hand on the door. "Please don't forget you have a presentation to make to the executive committee on Monday at ten." I addressed his back. His muscles stiffened as he stood still like a statue. I can put up the spreadsheets, portfolios, and PowerPoint materials in the conference room by 9:30 if you'd like.

Actually, I was sort of enjoying it. Nothing about his stance suggested that he was at ease. I once again stopped him as he was about to leave the room and curtly nodded. And, Mr. Ramirez?" I kindly asked. Before you go, I need your signature on these expenditure reports.

He let out a stern breath as his shoulders sagged. He walked over to my desk spinning on his heel, never looking into my eyes as he stooped down and turned through the forms to the Sign Here sections. I put a pen on the table. "Sir, please sign below where the tabs are."

I choked back a giggle as I realized, "He hated being told to do what he was already doing." He carefully lifted his chin and aligned his hazel eyes with mine before snatching the pen from me. Neither of us looked away as our eyes remained fixed for what seemed like minutes. I felt the want to lean in, suck on his pouty bottom lip, and beg him to touch me for a little second.

He spit out "Don't forward my calls," rapidly signed the last form, and threw the pen into my desk. "Get in touch with Henry if there's an emergency."

I said to myself, "Bastard," as I saw him go.

To say that my weekend was miserable would be an understatement. I didn't eat much, I didn't sleep much, and the little sleep I did get was broken up by thoughts of my boss being nude above, below, or behind me. I almost hoped for the start of courses again simply to have something to do.

I woke up irritated and grumpy on Saturday morning, but I somehow got myself together and took care of the chores and food shopping.

I was not as fortunate, however, on Sunday morning. My body was hot and tangled in a mess of cotton sheets when I awoke with a jolt. I was also panting and shivering. I genuinely had an orgasmic experience due to the intensity of my dream. I was back at the conference table with Mr. Ramirez, but this time we were both totally undressed. I straddled him as he was on his back, moving my body up and down his cock as I went back and forth. He caressed me all over: over my breasts, down my neck, around the sides of my face, and to my hips, where he controlled how I moved. When our eyes connected, I broke to pieces.

I moaned as I dragged myself out of bed, "Shit." Things were soon becoming worse and worse. Who would have guessed that working for a vengeful jerk would cause me to like being raped up against a chilly window at work?

My mind started to wander once again as I waited for the shower to warm up after I turned it on. I wanted to see his eyes as they peered out from between my knees, to see his face as he pushed against me and climbed on top of me, and to feel how much I want him. When he arrived, I longed to hear his voice calling my name.

My chest sank as my heart did. Fantasizing about him was a certain recipe for disaster. I was almost through with my master's degree. He was a manager. He had nothing to lose, but I may lose everything.

I hurriedly bathed and changed for my brunch date with Sara and Julia. Sara and I saw each other every day at work, but it was more difficult to schedule a time to see Julia, who has been my best friend since middle school. She diligently stuffed my wardrobe with samples and excess while working as a buyer for Gucci. I had some of the most exquisite clothing money could purchase because of her and her discount. They were still expensive, but it was well worth it. My scholarship paid for all of my academic expenses and my salary at Ramirez Media was respectable, but even I was unable to spend $1900 on a dress because I did not want to kill myself.

"I sometimes questioned if Elliott paid me so handsomely because he was aware that I was the only one who could care for his kid. Oh, if that he only knew," I mused.

I made the decision not to discuss my relationship with my employer, Robert, with my friends. Robert was often seen by Sara, who worked for Henry Ramirez, in the building. I was unable to ask her to keep such a thing a secret. Julia, on the other hand, would not be pleased to learn that I was having an affair with Robert since she had listened to me whine about him for over a year.

Two hours later, my two closest friends and I were enjoying mimosas on the terrace of our favorite restaurant while chatting about guys, clothing, and jobs. Julia had pleasantly surprised me with a garment composed of the most opulent material I had ever touched. It was in a clothing bag that was hung over the seat in front of me.

"So, how's work going?" In between melon nibbles, Julia questioned. "Is that jerk of a boss still being unfair to you, Emily?"

Sara groaned, "Oh, Handsome Scoundrel," and I looked closely at the ice on my champagne glass. She spoke while popping a grape into her mouth. God, Julia, you need to see him. The best moniker I've ever heard, in my opinion. He is a deity. I really mean that. He is in perfect physical condition. Perfect face, physique, attire, hair, etc. The hair, my God. She pointed over her head and remarked, "He's got that elegantly ordered messy thing going on. Looks like he just pummeled someone to death.

I grinned wryly. Regarding the hair, I never need a reminder.

Sara said, "But—and I don't know what Emily has told you—he really is awful," sounding grave. "I mean, within the first fifteen minutes of seeing him, I wanted to ram a pocketknife into each of his tires. He is the greatest jerk I have ever encountered.

After eating some pineapple, I nearly passed out. I wish Sara had known. The dude was very fortunate in terms of his body components. It was wrong.

"Why is he acting like such a jerk?"

The question is, "Who knows?" Sara responded, seeming to truly think about whether or not he had a valid reason before blinking away. "Perhaps he had a difficult childhood?"

The question "Have you met his family?" In doubt, I enquired. "Hello, Mr. Norman Rockwell."

"True," she said. "Perhaps it's a defensive system of some type. Like, he's resentful and thinks he needs to constantly prove himself to everyone because he's so darn attractive?"

I laughed. "There isn't an underlying cause. He believes that everyone should care and work as hard as he does, even if the majority of people don't. He is upset by that.

"Emily, are you supporting him?" Sara enquired while grinning in astonishment.

The answer is "definitely not."

I saw Julia looking directly at me, her blue eyes narrowing in accusatory silence. In the preceding several months, I had complained a lot about my boss, but maybe I had never brought up the fact that he was attractive.

"Emily, are you keeping something from me? She questioned, "Is your boss a hot piece?

Although he is Handsome, his demeanor makes it difficult to appreciate. I made an effort to act as casually as I could. Julia was able to read every idea I was thinking of.

Well, maybe he's angry because he has a little dick, she added, slumping her shoulders and taking a sip of her drink.

My two buddies were howling with laughter as I threw back my champagne glass.