Chapter 3

He purrs as he slowly approaches, not missing the opportunity to take a very close look at his companion.

"Thank you." He forces a smile as soon as he reaches her.

"So, how does the boss like his cappuccino?"

He asks her, facing her, observing her eyes, absorbing her scent, and very, very focused on the movement of her lips.

"Oh, yes, yes... with cream at the end, skim milk, and smooth, one and a half shots of coffee, not two, and extra hot."

She takes a sigh of relief, wanting to record the whole process on her phone so she doesn't have to go through this again. Even though that's what she always thinks, she still doesn't do it.

"Very well, sweetheart, I'll make you the best cappuccino ever."

"Great! I'll go wash your cup."

And like an arrow, she escapes the cheap flirtation of the socalled "savior," at least for the next few minutes until she finishes making the coffee. Alone in the washing area, she throws away the coffee she has to charge Lavinia for, meticulously washes the cup, then dries it thoroughly and returns to Miles, who, focused, asks for the cup and fills it, remembering the demands she mentioned a few minutes earlier.

"Miles, you're my savior. Mr. Ashcombe's in a bad mood, and Lavinia, as usual, is late on a Monday."

"Whenever you want, darling."

Leaning down, he placed a slobbery kiss on Eleanor's cheek, making sure to rest his free hand on her hip. He handed her the cup and walked away in slow motion, taking a moment to glance at her backside before disappearing down the hall.

With a steaming mug in one hand and a copy of the report still printing in her "workspace"—which resembled more of a hobbit hole, though there was no treasure there but a halfeaten chocolate bar from last week. Damn period and those calorie cravings.

He knocked on the door again and this time she answered immediately.

"It's been 7 minutes, I gave you 3!"

Taking that as a "Come in, Eleanor," she pushed open the door with the hand holding the report and walked over to the desk, silently placing the cup back in its place and handing her her elegant black leather folder.

"The report, sir," he announced expressionlessly.

"The secretary still hasn't shown up?" he asked, taking a sip from his cup. He nods; that's good. He liked that crap.

"It probably came out through some air, I'll go check it right away."

He offers with the intention of turning back and escaping from there.

"No, since you like covering for her so much, you'll do her job. Prepare the boardroom, make sure the catering company has set up everything needed for the meeting. Finish the reports and get the projector ready."

"Yes sir."

"By 9am, everything must be ready. you've to greet everyone."

"Yes sir."

"Just leave."

Biting her tongue to avoid blurting out something unpleasant, Eleanor happily escaped the presence of the "grumpy demon".

Now it was his turn to run. He grabbed his phone from the desk and went down to the 15th floor. The meeting rooms were there. Yes, there was more than one, and for the largest one (for the exclusive use of the CEO and the board of directors), you had to request permission. Of course, the key was in his hands. Sebastian was very particular about order and cleanliness, so after making sure there wasn't a single mark on the large glass table, he called reception to ask about the catering company. Fortunately, they were already on their way.

At 9 o'clock sharp in the morning, she finished arranging the reports in front of their respective chairs. A perfectionist, or rather, obsessed with ensuring everything was perfectly aligned, she leaned across the table to place one of the trays of snacks when she heard her boss's deep voice.

"How much longer are you going to take to put that tray away?"

"That devil's spawn has caught me with my ass in the air again," Eleanor muttered to herself. Sighing, she straightened up and turned around.

"I'm finished, sir, I was just about to go and meet the board."

"Do it now, you're behind on the simple task I gave you an hour ago."

"Yes sir."

With a forced smile, she walked past Sebastian, careful not to touch him as she crossed the threshold. List in hand, she stood in front of the elevator to check that everyone involved was present.

When everyone had arrived, she sighed wearily; finally, she could return to her desk and have a moment of peace. But before she could take a single step into one of the elevators, Sebastian appeared.

"What are you doing standing there? The meeting is about to start, you need to take notes."

"But I don't go into the meetings, that's Lavinia's job," he protested grumpily.

"From now on you go wherever I go, that's what it means to be a personal assistant, Miss Hartley."

"Yes sir... -he grunted through gritted teeth."

"You must remain silent at all times and take note of everything that's said; I want to remember the opinion of each individual."

"I need to go get my notebook," she announced nervously.

"There's no time, you'll have to manage."

Crying from the stress this man caused her, she followed him into the living room. She was surprised when he stopped in front of the door to let her go in first. Of course, she realized it was just the gentleman's show in front of all the company's heavyweights. All men.

Nervous from all the stares, she tried to find an available chair. She didn't want to be at the table; she hoped to find one in a corner. But then Mr. Ashcombe's hand landed in the middle of her back and pushed her to the head of the table, the chair next to his very comfortable reclining armchair.

Sebastian started the meeting and she, hysterical because she had nothing to take notes on, pulled out her cell phone intending to write notes there, but then discreetly Mr. Ashcombe, without ceasing to address the board, pushed his expensive iPad in front of her with a blank file for her to take notes.

She breathed a sigh of relief. Carefully, she adjusted it and began typing on the touchscreen.

Two hours later, while Sebastian was talking to someone, the attractive architect to his left offered him something to drink, as well as cookies, but Eleanor politely declined the offer, and they exchanged smiles.

"Gentlemen, let's take a 10-minute break. Miss Hartley, I need you to go and get the approved permits that came in on Friday."

He raises his voice so everyone can hear him. Silently, Eleanor locks her iPad and starts to stand up with everyone else, but Sebastian stops her chair, grabbing the armrest to keep her from moving. He watches everyone heading for the exit and only then lets her go.

"My orders were quite clear, Miss Hartley, I don't want you to talk, I need you to concentrate on the notes you're to take."

"I'm sorry sir, I was just being polite."

"I don't want any more interruptions."

"Yes sir."

"And don't waste any more time, go get the documents I asked you for."

Without saying a word, she hurried out to find the documents. She went up the stairs so focused that she didn't notice Lavinia was finally at her workstation.

"Ellie! I'm sorry, it's just that Hugo had a bad night, he couldn't fall asleep and I was worried about him, he wasn't feeling well.."

Ignoring his excuses, Eleanor went straight to the boss's office, took the file, and left.

"Don't be resentful, I'm talking to you and you're not answering. I told you that Hugo is sick."

"Take him to the pediatrician, I'm not a doctor," she snapped.

"Ellie!" She stepped in front of him so he'll talk to her.

"I'm working, Lavinia, don't bother me," he warned her when he sees she's not going to let her in. "And if he was so sick, you should have taken him to the emergency room last night instead of staying up all night posting crap on Facebook, you liar."

Back in the meeting room, Eleanor handed the document to her boss and returned to her seat. A glass of orange juice was waiting for her in front of the iPad. She'd been so focused on taking notes that she hadn't even noticed how thirsty she was. Grateful, she took a sip and prepared to continue.

An hour later, the meeting finally concluded. Sebastian shook hands with everyone and made a few comments about the topics and projects discussed. Once they were alone, he focused all his attention on his assistant.

"I don't like disrespect; we were in the middle of an argument when you decided it was a good time to socialize."

"It won't happen again, sir."

"You've been warned, you know I don't like to repeat orders."

"No sir."

"Now stop wasting time and finish the homework I gave you this morning."

"Right away, sir." He walked towards the exit.

"I want the notes in a file and also printed." She points to the iPad on the table.

"Right away, sir—he steps back to grab the device so they can escape at once."

"My lunch reservation, don't forget it, secretary."

"Of course, sir."

Relieved, she went back upstairs, reminded Lavinia of the devil's reservation, and went to her desk. She sent the file with the notes to her email and immediately returned the iPad to her boss's desk. She didn't want to keep it any longer than necessary or he would start making comments about possible scratches or stains she might have made on it.

And that's how things stood. While Lavinia made sure the cleaning staff cleaned the meeting room, Eleanor got to work on the meeting report. She needed it ready before Mr. Ashcombe returned from lunch. He was quite strict about schedules and priorities; when he gave an order, it had to be carried out immediately. He was the priority. He was the boss, and the message was clear: if he wasn't happy, then nobody could be. And everyone was getting to know his damn temper.