Hating The Mafia King

38: I Like His Fingers

Richie's phone calls are never-ending today. He has been on a call with different people for over two hours now. It's continuous- nonstop, once he's done talking to one person he moves to another. It's almost like a perpetual motion machine, he doesn't seem to stop anytime soon.

After all that media drama and the news going on and off about Richie and whatever crime he committed. Things haven't been going well for him or me. I know Richie will eventually sort things out like he always does but as for me, I can't sort things out. As a matter of fact; I didn't get to do anything of my own, especially about Ezra. I still don't know who he is or what he does, all I have is his name and that's not enough. However, I asked Cater to look up for someone named Ezra who has worked with Richie or has had some affairs with him in the past years.

I am presently in my office fixing appointments and scheduling different meetings for Richie. I don't know if he will be available for the meeting because he seems to be busy with phone calls lately. He literally missed breakfast because he was on a call with one of his business partners. Although, there is a meeting we'd both be attending in a few minutes as soon as Richie finishes his current call. I'm not letting him make another call before we attend this meeting, it's really important and I don't want Richie to miss it.

Being his secretary, I gotta say, it's a hell lot of work but I managed to get everything done while preparing documents for this current meeting and the project he'd complete two weeks from now. I also got him coffee and sent emails to all the companies he wants to rectify the recent situation too. Richie says I'm not supposed to do that for him but I did it anyway because I want the full job, not special treatment.

Putting the papers in a manner of accordance, Richie walks into the office. He looks overwrought, to say the least. Fluster, stress, and a kind of expression that makes me want to pity him. No surprise he's still on the phone, someone must have said something unpleasant to him.

"I will talk to you later." He says through the phone. He ends the call when he approaches my desk "Are you ready?" He asks me, not sparing a glance at me. I assume he is working on something on the phone.

"Yes," I say gathering the files and the few papers I need for the meeting. "All done, let's go."

"Wait a minute, I have to answer this." He tells me and I groan in irritation.

"Really"

"Sorry, Rach, but this is important."

"You've gotta be kidding me." I groan sitting back on the chair. With Richie on the phone, I'm sure this meeting will be postponed if not worse; canceled.

Richie walks over to the window, he smiles at me before turning around to talk on the phone. Oh my God, this is so annoying, I spent all day trying to get everything concerning this meeting done and this is what he does! Oh dear lord, how the hell will I get this man to attend this meeting -wait a second, what do I care, it's not my business. If the meeting gets canceled, it will be on his head not mine. I sigh slumping back into the chair, though that's not satisfying. I turn my gaze to Richie. It kills me to admit that Richie looks handsome today- who am I kidding, he looks handsome every single day. However, his heart isn't as good as his appearance.

I exhale heavily thinking of what to do to while away time. I decided to swirl my time away by swirling the chair around and around. I begin to do that and it reminds me of when I was a kid, I do that a lot whenever I am in my dad's study room. He usually swirls me around the chair so it gets all fun and pinning. I like it when he does that. Getting satisfied with the swirling, I rest my elbow on the armrest and I palm my face with my hand. I begin to tap my feet on the ground, I am so bored right now. I wish I could get something to while away time, maybe work on something about Ezra; anything would help. But right now I can't, if I do Richie will start asking questions and I don't know what to say to him.