His Fake fiancé

Chapter 8

We walked through the office together. I sat down at my desk while Grayson or Mr Black, I'm not really sure which one to call him at work, went straight to his office slamming the door.

Oddly enough, it's comforting, like everything's going back to normal.

I sighed checking some post it notes I'd left on my desk with phone numbers that required my immediate attention. Begrudgingly I picked up the phone and began dialling.

Phone call after phone call. Sometimes this job gets repetitive when Grayson is hauled up in his office and not ordering me around. Never thought I'd miss the asshole.

"Hey, Olivia." I looked up from the computer. Mr Hayes leaned against my desk with his bright smile lighting up the dim room.

"Mr Hayes." I greeted.

He shook his head "how many times do I have to tell you to call me Preston?"

"As many as you want. The answers not going to change. Are you here to see Mr Black?"

"Yes. Um, by any chance did he speak to you yesterday about... a proposition?" Does he know about Graysons plan?

"We discussed a certain proposal." His eyes immediately lit up, he'd caught onto the proposal part, not that I actually have received a proposal.

Stupid motherfucker.

"I can't believe he actually went through with it."

"Why?"

"Well-he-you're relationship with him isn't simple. He can't just boss you around like he can anyone else because you challenge him."

"Ahhh, he hates me."

Prestons eyes widened "well not hate-"

"Mr Hayes, don't worry, hearing the word hate isn't going to offend me. He's said much worse."

"In my defence you put yourself up to it. Feel free to go visit your local coven on your way to get my dry cleaning."

We both look to see Grayson leaning against the doorway to his office.

I snort "Yes sir. I'll make sure we conjure up a spell to improve those facial features, we don't need anymore interns running out of the building traumatised."

"If they're running off we're better off."

I snort "didn't know you were a poet."

He glares. "Get out."

Following his instructions I grab my bag and phone off the desk ready to make a run for it.

"Once you collect my clothes, take them back to the apartment, I'll meet you there." I simply nodded my head and left the two of them to their business.

Grayson P.O.V

We both watched Olivia walk to the elevator. The sway of her hips had me staring right at her ass. What a gentlemen I am.

Once she's disappeared Preston looked at me. "Want to tell me something?"

I shrugged him off walking back into my office. He was quick to follow.

"She's your new fiancé." I looked at him.

"Yes. I clearly had no other choice but her."

"And she just agreed."

I cleared my throat "to an extent."

He glared "to an extent?"

"I held her job over head. But before you yell at me, we've negotiated and now she's not doing this against her will." I smiled, hoping to make it sound less... dickish?

"You held her job over her head!? What were you thinking?! She's a good person Gray. She didn't deserve that."

I waved him off "it's done now, we have it sorted don't get your fucking panties twisted."

Normally I'm the mature one between us but the roles have been reversed and I'm not liking it. He shook his head clearly disappointed in me.

"Pres, trust me I have things sorted."

He stood up.

"For the companies sake I hope you do. You better start treating her like fucking royalty and not sending her of on demeaning errands like getting your dry cleaning, she's your future wife, not just your assistant anymore."

I watched him leave and close the door behind him with a an attitude.

As much as I'd like to stab him, he's absolutely right. Olivia and I are going to need to discuss her job. She can't continue to work as my assistant while she's my fiancé.