Chapter 5

Silence falls between us again. Rosmery gets up from her chair, and I almost expect her to leave the room. Instead, she grabs our empty boxes and throws them in the trash, perhaps a little too forcefully, and I hear the loud thud as the boxes hit the bottom of the bin.

Then he returns to his desk and starts working again without saying a word. I run my hands through my hair, frustrated, pick up the card he threw at me from the floor, and silently place it next to his right hand on my desk.

"I don't need it,"she says without even looking at me once.

"Take it, I've a few more in my drawer. And even though it's way out of my reach, I apologize for tossing it to you like that; perhaps it wasn't the most polite way,"I sighed.

Surprised, she looks at me, and for the first time, I truly see all her features. While at first glance, without paying much attention, I thought she was ordinary, now I see her full beauty. My apology caught her off guard again, and her face relaxed.

When she caught me looking at her, I realized that she wasn't covered in pasta, but the fact that she discovered me prevented me from observing her properly.

Her enormous hazel eyes, like a puppy's, contrast with her reddish hair, giving her face a natural beauty. At first glance, she's only wearing makeup: mascara, pink lip gloss, and a light blush that enhances her natural features. Aside from a few lovely freckles, her skin is flawless and, true to her reddish hair, very pale, like ivory.

Her high cheekbones, small nose, and delicate jawline give her a look that reminds me of some models I've known, only they paid well for plastic surgery. And with her, it seems to look natural. How did I not notice before? Well, maybe I was too focused on being angry. But, my God, she's gorgeous.

I clear my throat, realizing I've been staring at her for what feels like forever. Her eyes then shift from me back to her laptop.

"Maybe?"she lets out a snort, and it takes me a moment to remember what I had said before our staring contest.

—Yes, perhaps. You weren't very nice before either —I reply.

After that, we worked together for almost two hours in complete silence. While I checked my email for the day and organized paperwork, she continued what we had discussed earlier. She probably could have done it from her office; the only reason she's probably still here is in case she needs to ask me something.

I'd have kicked anyone else out of my office within twenty minutes at the latest. But, frankly, I doubt she would have listened to me. And as much as it drives me crazy, I can't say I care that she's sitting here at my desk.

Around us, the other office lights are going out one by one, but she remains completely absorbed in her work. It's as if she's immersing herself in it, and an occasional glance tells me exactly whether she's pleased with what she's just done or frustrated.

Once I finished my schedule for today, I turned to her."Hey, I think we're done for today. It's almost eight o'clock, we've been here for almost twelve hours.""It's not like I work less on other days, I'm always working. But I'm still feeling a bit hungover from last night, and I'm sure she has better things to do, too."

"Give me five minutes and then I'll show you the different things I've prepared for this campaign; I just need to organize them in the correct folders."

As he said, it doesn't take more than five minutes, and I'm amazed at how he's differentiated the advertising for each platform. He explains that we need different advertising on Facebook than on Instagram or other social media, considering the age difference of most users. He also has different designs for different types of online magazines or newspapers. He's developed almost twenty different designs, explaining his intentions with each one and letting me decide which one I want for what purpose. Wow! So far, we've used three or four designs, and I'd choose one or two.

"Did you do all this in one afternoon?"I asked, a little astonished in my voice.

"That's what I'm here for,"she said, simply downplaying it, as if the work she'd done was nothing special. Our former creative director would probably have taken a whole week to accomplish what she'd just done in an afternoon.

"Didn't you have to do some research first to figure out how to position it best?"

The best thing for them, so when I have to promote a product, I know what they expect from me. We also discussed their expectations and what they want to achieve with this advertising, so it was quite easy. It would be more difficult for a company that doesn't know what they expect from me. For example, if I worked at a site where we only do advertising for other brands. Here, I had the opportunity to consult their expectations directly and know that they should also align with this company's. That makes it incredibly easy.

Leaning back in my chair, I can't help but smile wryly at the girl in front of me. She says it as if it's no big deal. As a junior director of this company, I'm always working on new and innovative branches and products, and I've been handling most things on my own, since the senior staff here don't understand what I expect. And most of the younger ones don't have any ideas of their own and just do what I suggest.

However, this girl in front of me seems to work and think just like me. She has a strong mind, and her work is exceptional, something I certainly didn't expect when I met her this morning. Perhaps it's not just that Dad is putting her in the right position. The only problem is that she doesn't follow my instructions. Can I work with her?

"How old are you?"The question has been on my mind since this morning.

Does it matter? Do you like my work or not? My age shouldn't be the deciding factor. Or does someone judge you for being so young in your position?

Well, he may be right, but people have always accepted my natural authority, and through my hard work, I've proven myself to be in the right place. Some people think I'm only here because of my father, but the truth is, those who have worked with me know better. I work harder than my father, and since I joined this company, we've grown almost three times what we were before.

Interrupting my thoughts again, she asks:"Well, what's it going to be?"

"I'll judge you by your work and tell you not to be late tomorrow - I'm still going to check your file and find out your age."

"I'm never late. You'd better not be too late, remember you're driving a Porsche, not a small, old Fiat."If it weren't for the mocking smile and the derisive voice, I'd tell him to get lost.

As she leaves my office, I can't help but watch her swaying hips and wish that pencil skirt was a little tighter so I could show off her backside, like when she bent over this morning. Stop! Where are my damn thoughts taking me? One rule: don't even think about starting anything with an employee. Although that doesn't mean I can't take a peek, does it?

I opened her personnel file on my computer and skimmed a few pages. What I read about her education was impressive; like me, she skipped two classes and couldn't have done better on the exams. Judging by her age, she's a year younger than me. She's very young to be a creative director; most people her age work behind the scenes, assisting the creative director. The work she did this afternoon would normally be done by an entire creative team, led solely by the creative director.

She certainly has the intelligence for this position, but can she handle the pressure? Looking back on our meeting today, I have to smile smugly; perhaps she can. She's a real fighter, no doubt. And well, it shouldn't be me judging her age, she's right.

I know working with her is going to be a nightmare, but if this is how she acts every day, I'll gladly put her in her place. It might take a few days, but she'll realize she can't talk to me like that.

It will be nine o'clock when I can finally go to the gym.