Wanting My Assistant

Chapter 2

   Red. His eyes are red. Not just some everyday red. But a deep, blood red that swirls with the rich color. Deep deep blood red.

   They're beautiful.

   He stares at me. As I stare at him. His brown hair is slicked back with a little gel. Long, soft looking brown hair. Deep brown. Not like chocolate, more of dark oak maybe?

   I don't really know how to put it.

   I blink, and then blink again before realizing that I'm probably drooling over my new boss.

   I have a boyfriend.

   "Good morning sir, I'm Isadora Davis, your new personal assistant." My throat bobs with a nervous swallow, his dark beautiful red eyes trailing my body slowly.

   The gaze sends shivers up my spine. They slowly trail back up to mine. He blinks at me, and then clears his throat, looking away. "Right." He speaks gruffly, walking in front of his messy desk. His large arms fold across his chest, the muscles bulging. My eyes stray to his arms before I snap them back up to him.

   "Miss Davis," he tries my name on his tongue, his red eyes flashing with something before looking back up at me, crossing an ankle over his other.

His biceps flex beneath the fabric of his shirt, his eyes analyzing me with the burning red. The color makes my skin tingle, the way he's looking at me making my nerves alight with fire. "Kelly showed you around. Yes?" He asked, his voice low and husky. His eyes swirling with deep rich red.

   I nod my head, clasping my hands together behind my back. "Good." He grunts, turning and walking back around his desk. The chair rolls slightly as he takes a seat, crossing his arms across his chest as he leans back in the office chair. Still staring right at me.

   "So, Isadora," the way my name rolls off his tongue. A hint of an Italian accent. I wonder if he actually speaks Italian?

   "I have a meeting at 2pm. I usually take lunch around 12:30." He starts explaining, grabbing a thick Manila folder and pushing up out of his office chair again.

   I nod, checking that away for later. "Sir, what will I be doing during the meetings?" I ask in a soft sophisticated tone, trying to quiet the wavering in my voice the closer he steps to me.

   His presence is intimidating. The way his dress shoes click against the office floor as he makes his way over to me. The way his eyes pierce into me. The way he stands tall and broad, muscles like a god himself. The closer he gets to me, the more I have to look up to meet his dark stare.

   "Notes. You must take notes for me." He explains subtly, handing me the heavy paper filled Manila folder. My hands grip the flimsy material, glancing down at it and then back up at him, swallowing slightly. "Tonight." He grunts, pushing his pointer finger to the folder, his eyes in a hard stare.

   "I want those papers done tonight."

   I nod my head again, "Yes sir."

   A satisfied look crosses his stone cold face. My heart pounds nervously in my chest as I wait for him to continue. His large arms fold across his chest again, his head tilted down to look at me, "Your office is on the third floor. Always answer your phone. I'll most likely call down for coffee throughout the day. I expect it to be perfect. I expect everything you do to be perfect. Do you understand Miss Davis?" He asks, bending at the waist to lower himself to my level.

I nod again with another nervous gulp but I don't let it show on my face. My eyes hold his intimidating stare, not moving an inch. His warm breath fans across my face, my eye lashes fluttering slightly "Don't be late for meetings. I will send you emails throughout the day keeping you updated on my schedule. Never be late. I hate people who are never on time." His tone holds a nasty bite. A reminder of who he is.