Beauty And The Liar: A Liar, Liar Novella

t h r e e

"I'm not sure," you replied as you stared up at the tall iron gate with spikes on top, looking like something straight out of a Dracula film. Behind the gate stood a mansion that would've put all the other ones you worked at to shame. Holy cow, how rich was this guy?

"Just make sure you keep your location on at all times," your sister warned from the phone.

You clutched your bag tightly. "I have pepper spray."

"That's good. Blind the bitch if he tries anything funny. Talk to you later, love you." She hung up and you dropped your phone back into your bag. Meeting at his house should've been the biggest red flag but all it did was increase your curiosity of the character behind the handsome face you saw at the wedding.

Before you pressed the button for the intercom, the gates swung open. Damn, this really was some horror movie type shit. You tightened your hold on your bag as you walked up the long drive way towards the large oak doors with a gargoyle shaped knocker.

How fitting. You clutched the heavy iron and hit it against the door three times. The door creaked open and there stood the object of your desires. He looked even more handsome than you remembered — except this time he was dressed in dark blue jeans and a white t-shirt. Him in a tuxedo was mouth watering but him in jeans and a tee? Illegal. His hair was wet and it looked different than the style he wore to the wedding and right there you decided you really liked him like this, all undone and casual.

"You're late." He said and then he turned around, silently telling you to follow him. The interior was crazy, a double staircase, a chandelier, and a grand piano were all strategically placed to compliment each other and that was just the foyer. You followed him down a long hallway towards what looked like his home office, staring at his broad shoulders, wondering what it would be like to touch them.

His office was more warm than what you've seen so far: a red Persian rug, a wide desk that looked like it belonged to a Duke and thick shelves lined the walls, each filled with books. Has he read all of them or were they placed there for the aesthetic?

"I've read every book here," he answered. Shit, did you say that out loud? He didn't say anything more as he sat at his desk and just stared at you.

"Do you need my resume?" You asked to break the awkward silence that was slowly choking you.

"I already know everything," he replied, still staring at you.

Okay. That's not creepy at all. "Then what's the point of this interview?"

"Just to keep things formal so all my other employees don't form any animosity towards you."

"You invite every potential employee to your house?"

"No."

You didn't know why but his answer satisfied you. "You have any questions for me?"

He leaned back and rested his hands on his thighs. "Do you believe in love?"

Present

"Come on, he won't be as hard on you," the receptionist whined as she begged you to tell your boss about his next meeting having to be pushed back to next week.

"What is with this narrative that he's not hard on me? He literally told me off earlier today for his coffee being a few degrees too hot."

For the last few months, ever since you accepted the offer of being his personal assistant, your life had been a living hell. Working for him was intense and drained you faster than a pot with holes. You hadn't seen your friends in months and only saw your sister in passing as you were too exhausted to do or say anything when you came home from work, only wanting to sleep.

The man was very particular in every aspect of his life and it was slowly killing you. He didn't care that your workload was already double everyone else's or that you had to come in early everyday just to get a head start — he would simply just dump in your lap and expect you to get it all done on time. The worst part was, you never got any praise for completing every one of his task. Just criticism.The only good thing about working for him was the pay, it was more than anything you've ever made.

You focused back on the receptionist and sighed. "Fine. I'll take one for the team."

You walked to his office and slowly opened the door, only going inside when he waved you in. "It better be important."

"Your 3:00 has been postponed to next week."

You held your breath as you waited for him to yell at you. "And you're only letting me know now?"

"The person you were meeting with had an emergency," you replied, trying to keep your cool.

He took a sip of his coffee. "Call in h/n for me then."

"Where do you want her to meet you?"

He stared at you. "Here. Where else? Paris?"

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at his sarcasm. He usually didn't invite his hook ups into the office but sometimes, when he was completely stressed, he would be with them in the bedroom hidden behind the bookshelves in his office.

You left his office without another word and sent a text off to the woman he hooked up with.

His office. Now.

She strolled in with her expensive heels and dress and walked right past you with a smile and into his office, locking the door behind her. You turned back to face your computer, how could you have ever been attracted to someone like that? It seems like forever ago that you locked eyes at the wedding, wanting to know everything about him but you quickly realized it was all just a fantasy. You hated him. You hated him to the point of wanting to pull his hair out but you restrained yourself on the account of not wanting to go to jail.

Thirty minutes later, she walked out, not a hair out of place. "He's all yours."

The intercom on your desk beeped a second later. "My office. Now."

You glared at the intercom before reluctantly getting up and marching to his office. He was leaning against his desk, jacket off, sleeves pushed back to his elbows. "I need you to finalize this report."

He handed you a packet as thick as a textbook. "Sir, there's only an hour left in the work day."

"Work overtime and get it done," he replied.

You bit the inside of your cheek. "It's my sister's birthday dinner. I told you this a month ago."

His eyes fixed on you. "And?"

" I can't miss this dinner." You've called out of almost every get together and you could tell people were on their last straw with you.

"I don't care about your obligations. I need this done."

Take a deep breath, y/n. He's always done this. One time, he made you work during a holiday when everyone else was with their families, you were creating contracts. You went home to an empty apartment as your sister went back home and you've never felt more pathetic. People often work to live not live to work and it pained you that you couldn't remember when you became this person...the person who let someone walk all over them.

And before you lost the will, you set the packet on his desk. "No."

His face hardened. "Excuse me?"

"I'm not doing this. I'm clocking out and going to meet my sister."

You turned to the door and left quickly, not wanting to hear what he had to say. You've given up so much in the name of work. A text or call from him and you were running, completing whatever task he requested, even if it meant leaving in the middle of a date to pull an all-nighter at the office to finish up a presentation that was due the very next day.

But that all stops now.