My ruthless boss had no idea i was an heiress

Miri Baustian

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Chapter 2: First Encounter

By Emma I

arrived at my office, as I usually do, 10 minutes before my scheduled start time.

I turned on my computer and, while it was booting up, poured myself a cup of coffee.

It wasn’t hard for me to get up early because I was used to it; I’d taken my law classes in the morning. To many at the family business, I didn’t stick to a schedule and didn’t work much—no one knew I was pursuing two degrees.

At my company, I usually arrived between 10 and 11 in the morning; few people knew that I’d been up since 6 a.m. and that I’d gone to bed after midnight because I was taking my design classes at night.

No one said anything to me, even though everyone knew how badly I got along with my brother—after all, I was still one of the owners.

Kika arrived after 9, even though our start time was 8:30.

“Hurry up, I need the quarterly sales report for the Atlantic Coast.”

I didn’t understand why she was in such a rush, but the report was ready. “You

have to take it to Pupy—he just got back from a trip

.” “Should I print it out?

” I asked her because I had no idea what Pupy’s habits were.

—What other way is there?

She said it in a harsh tone.—You can send it

via internal mail.

She looked at me as if I were speaking Chinese.—It’s

for Pupy.

That didn’t really answer the question.—She always

took the balance sheets to him on paper,

she clarified.

I printed them out.

I’d corrected a table; it made much more sense after I’d tweaked it.

Kika didn’t even glance at the documents. “You did them

, so you take them.”

Is she afraid of him?

I wondered.

It was funny, because with the staff below her, she acted like a little princess, and her manners weren’t the best.

I took the papers and headed to the sales manager’s office.

I remembered him perfectly; he wasn’t the kind of man who went unnoticed.

He was tall, muscular, with the face of a Hollywood heartthrob—one of those heartthrobs who are somewhere between rebellious and cocky, who expect everyone to turn and look at them.

I guessed his age as I walked across the plush carpet.

He must have been 33 or 34.

No doubt that heartthrob took many women’s breath away.

I remembered how he was “checking out” Grace Obban at that party—it wasn’t a corporate event, but it wasn’t a nightclub either; still, his behavior wasn’t the best, possibly because he was drunk.

At those events, alcohol was in abundance and good judgment was in short supply.

Personally, I would have put a stop to a manager’s behavior at events, dinners, or whatever else might be part of work-related gatherings, but he acts as if the world belongs to him.

It’s true, I only saw him once, but people talk…

I turned the corner of the hallway, and it seemed as if the company ended right there.

Using my employee ID, I opened a door.

I walked a few meters, and to my left was the office of the intrepid sales manager.

His office door was open; he was behind a massive desk, sitting in an armchair that looked like a king’s throne.

A superiority complex?

A man was sitting across from him; I didn’t recognize him because his back was turned to me.

Even though the door was open, I stood in the doorway, about to knock, before going in. “I

slept with her and sold her 50,000, hahaha—she was desperate.”

The blood rushed to my face.

I hesitated to knock.

I couldn’t believe his… sales tactic.

Pupy’s lack of ethics surpasses even my brother’s.

That jerk was dating one of the most beautiful models in the country and then slept with someone for business!

The worst part is that he was bragging about it as if it were some great feat.

I don’t think I could hide my expression

. “Who are you? What are you doing eavesdropping on a private conversation?

” As soon as I heard his voice, I pounded on the doorframe, though my pounding didn’t stop me from hearing his words.

“Excuse me, sir, good morning. I’m Emma Fonda, Kika’s new secretary

.” “Why were you eavesdropping?” “I

didn’t hear a thing… I just came to bring you this report.”

He knew I’d heard him; perhaps he calmed down when I told him who I was, because he looked at me differently, sizing me up with his eyes.

I wasn’t scared by his shouting voice or his piercing gaze.

I wasn’t afraid of those cockroaches who think they’re so imposing.—

Give them to me.

I handed them to him.—

Excuse me.—

Don’t leave; explain this to me, because it’s different.—I

made a small change to the chart.

—Why? “Who told you to do that?

It’s unbearable!

” “I simply optimized the data, improved the design, and no one told me to do it

.” “Are you new here?

” “Yes

.” “Isn’t that a bit presumptuous of you?

” “To work?” Improving the interpretation of a document?

Pupy looked at me with a frozen smile on his face; probably no one had ever answered him that way before.—Come

closer and explain this curve to me,

he said, ignoring my reply.

I stepped up beside him, and in a sweet, polite voice, I explained it to him as if he were an idiot who didn’t understand something simple.

Then I smiled at him; he caught my sarcasm, and from that moment on, I knew I’d made an enemy. “You’re

brilliant,

” he replied with a smile that promised my life there would be torture.

The rebellious girl inside me came out before I could stop her. “Thank you very

much… sir,

” I said with a sarcastic smile.

At first he looked serious, but then, with a half-smile playing on his face, he winked at me. “You may

leave,

” he said with feigned seriousness.

“Excuse me, sir,

” I replied politely.

I returned to my office, knowing that from now on I’d have to tread very carefully—I’d made an enemy, one who was arrogant and conceited.

I was in my apartment, a gift from my family when I graduated with a degree in design. Luckily, it was in my name, because they were capable of taking it away from me for defying them by studying law.

I finished dinner alone; my boyfriend was away on a business trip. We didn’t live together, although he sometimes stayed over at my place.

I used the time to design some suede dresses.

I enjoyed designing, and it came easily to me, but it wasn’t what my personal ambitions called for.

It certainly helped that I’d studied design—after all, the family business was in textiles, and no one questioned my expertise, even though my own family looked down on my designs.

Yet whenever I spoke with suppliers, they always ended up consulting me about fabrics, quantities, colors, and so on; afterward, my brother got all the credit for making such good purchases and having a perfect grasp of the business.

I’d like to know how they’re managing without me.

I know I’m capable of carrying on the family legacy much better than Marcelo—maybe that’s why he was always overshadowing me.

My cell phone rang; it was an unknown number. I thought it might be a coworker whose number I didn’t have saved. “Hello…” “Hello

, Emma?

” a man’s voice replied. “Yes

.” “I’m

Ramiro, Marcelo’s friend

.” “Did something happen?

” I asked hesitantly; I hadn’t spoken to my family since the day I left the family home.—No

, nothing, everything’s fine…

I fell silent, waiting for Ramiro to continue.—I was calling to invite you

out for coffee.

That surprised me.

Then I remembered Ramiro’s piercing eyes, which I’d often caught searching for mine.

He never said anything.

It was clear he’d never approached me because I was his friend’s little sister.

Did they have a problem?

Is this a trap? “Coffee?

”

I asked so it wouldn’t seem like I was speculating. “It might seem strange to you

, but… I’ve actually been thinking for a while now about talking to you alone

.”Is he playing the ladies’ man?

Ramiro was a well-known businessman, but he wasn’t involved in the textile industry.

I think my brother met him in college; I’ve known him forever—I even remember going to his wedding and hearing about his separation.

He never laughed at the mean pranks or hurtful comments my brother would make at every get-together.

Maybe because he was more mature than my idiot brother. “That wouldn’t

be bad—chats between friends are always welcome.”

I smiled at my own words.

There was a brief silence.

He must have been thinking about the word “friends.”

I smiled over the phone.

I accepted the invitation; we agreed to meet the next day at an exclusive café.

I was going to have some fun—or at least catch up on some family gossip—though I was prepared for Ramiro to bombard me with questions and then rush over to my brother’s door to tell him everything.

I walked into the café, and in a corner far from prying eyes, Ramiro was sitting. He stood up when he saw me, like a true gentleman. “Hi

, Emma, you look beautiful.”

“Thanks

.” I was sizing him up, and I think he was doing the same to me.

“I’m glad you accepted my invitation.” “It surprised me

—I can’t deny that

.” “Why did it surprise you?

” “Because you’re my brother’s friend, and I feel like I’ve known you since I was born.” “Almost

.”

He said with a laugh. “You make

me feel old.”

“That’s on you

.” “Am I still in the running?

” “It depends… What category are you racing in?

” He leaned in close to me and, right next to my ear, said,

“Formula 1.”

I didn’t pull away; I wasn’t taking this sudden flirtation seriously either.

I smiled openly at him. “Tell

me about your life…

Hahaha.

“Is this for your friend?

” “Everything’s normal.”

I replied evasively, while thanking the waiter who was serving us.

“Does ‘normal’ mean you have a boyfriend or that you’re single?

” I smiled at him; at least I didn’t bring up my family.

“I have a boyfriend

.” “Do you live with him?

” “No

.” “Does he know you’re here?

” “He’s not my jailer.” “He

doesn’t know.”

He said with a victorious smile.—

He’s traveling on business.—Hmm

, those kinds of trips…—You’re probably

speaking from experience.—They’re

general observations.—It depends

—Do you trust your boyfriend completely?

—No, but I’m not jealous.—I’m

not jealous either.

I smiled at him. Does he really think he can seduce me?

“I’ve been wanting to get to know you better for a long time, but your brother…”

“Don’t I still have a brother?”

“Maybe, but you two are estranged.” “Just

like always.” “You used

to see each other.”

-“But we weren’t close.” “He

doesn’t know I called you; he just mentioned that you had some ‘issues’

and…” “Does he call slapping me in the face when I was 23 an ‘issue’?” He was lucky I didn’t sue him.

—Would you be capable of that?

—Why not?

—He’s your brother.—

Yes, he’s my brother—the one who’s always looked down on me. I’m sure he didn’t let me take part in running MyE because he was afraid I’d outshine him; deep down, he’s insecure.

-“You’re very confident, impetuous…” “Yes

, it’s true, I’m… unyielding.”

“I’d like to… break you… somewhere else.

Hahaha.”

He tried to catch me off guard. “I think

that’ll be difficult…” “I

really like you…”

he said suddenly, and a second later, his mouth had taken over mine.

I didn’t expect it—at least not at that moment.

I didn’t answer him either, though I didn’t make a scene or even say a word.

We kept talking for a little while longer, and then, using the excuse that we had to get up early, we headed for the exit.

That’s when I saw Pupy, my boss; he was with a model—not the one from the event—who was a little less well-known.