Marry me

Chapter Twenty-Nine.

You guys remember the secretary that Ivan had hired before re-hiring Isabelle?

***

Isabelle, we are not getting involved in any violent activities. Not today.

I swear, it's like the universe is against me.

I'm pretty sure it's that time of the year again when I'm like a magnet for different female dogs from all over the world.

Those were the thoughts that ran through my head as I stared at the petite woman filing her nails on the other side of my office.

She laid back in her seat with her legs crossed on her small desk (the height of indecency), hungrily chewing on bubblegum like a starved human being. I watched as she blew a bubble till it popped with a loud smack all over her glossed lips. The woman glanced at me, before proceeding to use her fingers to peel the gum on her lips, not taking her eyes off me.

"Okay." I slammed my palms on my desk, rising to my feet. I caught the distant sound of a pen hitting the marble floor. "Miss Ashby, I will not tolerate you creating a nuisance in my office while I'm trying to work."

"Well, yikes," she said as she smacked her lips. "Miss Greene, I think you might have forgotten but-" she dragged her words before chuckling, "-it's our office, remember?"

I pushed out a breath through my nose before forcing myself back into my seat. No violent activities today. No violent activities today. No violent activities today.

Lyric Ashby was right.

Since Mr. Trevelyan had decided to hire two very different secretaries (like the conniving asshole that he was), we, the unfortunate victims, split the duties. Lyric was in charge of dealing with correspondence and emails, booking flights, and making appointments while I dealt with anything that had to do with meetings and public events. And as we shared the duties of a secretary, we also shared the office.

And with just my luck, Lyric had successfully managed to become the bane of my life within a time span of three months.

My theory is that she's lowkey mental.

"You know," she said, twirling the few stray strands of her pale red hair with her nail file. "I tried some brand of pickles two days ago." She let out a little giggle. I don't think I cracked a joke. "It was tots amazing."

I instantly plopped my head on my desk burying it with my hands. What did I ever do to deserve this?

I don't think she got the memo. She just kept talking. "But they do not beat the ones that I had last week. Gosh, those were heaven." She sighed, "You should try them sometime, I think you'll like them-" No, I will not. "-In fact I-"

Her intercom buzzed, cutting her off and I almost let out a cry of joy. I heard the muffled voice of Mr. Trevelyan coming from the intercom. I didn't hear much but I could pick the words: email, job, office, now.

I lowered my head, trying to act like I was deeply focused on the documents on my desk while trying to stifle a huge grin.

Looks like someone's in trouble.

"Okay sir," Lyric said, her voice suddenly solemn and serious. "I'll be right there."
As she stood, the scent of bubblegum and her vanilla perfume clouded my nose and I looked up unconsciously.

Her pale red hair, tied in a high ponytail, whipped behind her as she strolled out of the office in her black heels. Just as she was about to exit the office, her hand came down to adjust her beige knee-length skirt while her other hand tugged on her blazer. She turned to me and threw me a somewhat embarrassed smile before leaving.