Hers Exclusively

Unprofessional

Scott
After the meeting, two executives follow I and my new secretary back to my office. Miss Clarke hurries back to her desk and pretends like we don't exist. She dumps her notepad and paints her nails instead. My employees notice in time and I feel embarrassed.
“Miss Clarke, don't you have something you should be doing?”
She looks up at me at once with sparkling cat green eyes, cocking her head curiously.
“Not exactly. Do you have something I should be doing, sir?” she added the title as if as an afterthought. Her words hang on the fringes of being rude and being official and I couldn't tell what she had in mind originally.
“Is this supposed to be your secretary? No offense, sir but she appears clueless and painting her nails in your workspace? Very unprofessional.” Mr. River shakes in head in disappointment. I get more and more embarrassed, running my palms down my face.
She puts the manicure kit aside and when they turn back to face me, she sends an evil look my way. I feel cold chills running down my spine for no reason. Miss Clarke reaches for her notepad and begins to compile the notes she had taken down at the meeting. When I am sure that she is adequately occupied, I return to my discussion.
“River, I need your official report on the Liz Project by the end of today. No more excuses.” I try to be firm with my workers, never sparing either of them.
“But, sir..” he objects.
“No more excuses,” I repeat, shooting him a mean glance. “You too, Pierce. I put you two on that project because I had faith in your decision making. Don't make me regret it.”
Both men smile grimly and exit my office together. Immediately they leave, Miss Clarke slaps her compilation on my desk and heads back to her chair when I stop her midway.

Davina
“What is this supposed to mean, Miss Clarke?! You are disrespectful, sassy and unprofessional! How dare you just drop this on my desk without an explanation? Why did Gionna hire a lazy thing like you?!
“Enough!” I yell, balling my fists angrily. I am sassy and disrespectful but nobody calls lazy. I march back to his desk and grab him by his tie, pulling him up and out of his chair. He gasps in surprise but says nothing, his blue eyes dancing in confusion.
“Nobody and I mean, no-fucking-body calls me lazy! I have been through hell this past year and I can't handle another asshat thinking he knows how to manage me.”
I somehow walk around his desk without realizing and stand before him directly. When I tighten my grip on his tie, he sighs softly and leans back against the wall. Since we are so close, I can feel his surrender to my anger and his submission to dominance.
Green eyes against blue meek ones, the sensation is electrifying.
“Apologize, Manley,” I order, forgetting whom I am referring to in the heat of my vexation.
“I–I'm sorry, Miss Clarke,” he croaks out, quite unsure of himself but then, I know what he is: an adult male submissive.