A Target's Love

6

Elizabeth Rosheuvel was sitting in her office, reviewing a set of letters that had just been delivered to her. She paused and glanced at her watch. She hated dealing with new employees, especially the cocky, confident, and arrogant types. And she resented the cute ones. They were always the ones who gave the most trouble. And the idiot was late--on his first day of work, too. Pursing her lips, she returned her attention to the job at hand, only to be interrupted again when her office door banged open.

She winced at the loud sound, sighed, and then looked up. Speak of the devil.

"You're late," She snapped.

"I know, just let me--"

Her eyes flashed. "I won't tolerate such behavior from any employee. This is your first day here! This is the first time you're late, and it'd better be your last, too. Do you understand?"

"I have a valid excuse, if you'd just hear me out--"

"Do you understand me, Mr. Quinton?" She asked again with more force.

His jaw clenched. "Yes, I do."

"Good. Have a seat while I call someone from the department to show you around."

"I've got it." He said, irritated.

What? She paused, phone in mid-air. "I'm not sure I heard you correctly, Mr. Quinton."

He almost rolled his eyes in annoyance. "I did my research. I know the layout of this place from memory. I can show myself around just fine."

She fought to stop herself from glaring at him. "Fine." She snapped, "Suit yourself."

She went back to her task, effectively dismissing him with her silence.

Briefcase in hand again, he walked out of the room. His jaw clenched. You'd think since this was his first day, she'd at least hear him out. Why was she so. . .uptight? And this was the woman he was going to marry. Javier sighed and ran his free hand through his hair. Father couldn't have picked a lovelier bride, he thought sarcastically.

He turned right down a hallway and mounted the first staircase, forgoing the elevator. At the top, he made another right, entering the main corridor of the second floor. He soon came to the west wing. A sign indicated he was in the Data Management Department. Presently, he came to the door of the Administrator's office. He opened it and went inside.

At least he had his own office. That was a plus.

His musing was cut short when he saw two employees making out on the white couch on the far right of the room, their dark skin starkly contrasting the leather covering. He stopped and cleared his throat. They broke apart, the guy grinning while his female partner looked down bashfully.

Javier narrowed his eyes. "Why are you two making out in my office?" He asked. "I'm pretty sure there are rules in the employee handbook somewhere concerning such actions." Not that he'd know. He hadn't read the PDF attached to his welcome email.

The woman's eyes widened. "Please don't report us, sir. Please, this won't happen again."

"Yeah," Her male companion agreed, "Especially not to Elizabeth. . ."

Javier held up his hands. "Relax. I won't--at least not today. Just leave."

They hurriedly left.

What a welcome! He thought wryly, sitting down behind the desk and putting his feet up on the polished surface, leaning back in the chair.

He closed his eyes but snapped them open again when someone cleared their throat.

"Get your feet off the desk. You're at work, not at home." Elizabeth said.