Edited Aug 2025
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The sharp buzz of my phone pulled me from a shallow sleep. I squinted at the screen, rubbing my eyes with the heel of my palm.
"Hello?" I croaked, voice rough from sleep.
"Hi," Alaric's voice came, calm but deliberate. "Can you meet me in the lobby in thirty minutes?"
I blinked, a little disoriented. "Yes... sure." I hung up and stared at the ceiling, trying to shake off the fog of sleep. Weren't we supposed to leave later today? I shrugged, reached for the scrunchie on the nightstand, and tied my hair into a quick ponytail.
The shower was a relief and a shock all at once. My skin felt sticky from sweat, my hair clinging damply to my neck. The water washed away the remnants of restless sleep, but not my lingering anxiety.
Afterward, I rummaged through my suitcase in the living room. My options were limited-no time for anything elaborate. I picked a black top, dark blue flared jeans, and my ballet flats. I brushed my short hair, letting it fall naturally, and applied mascara, eyeliner, and a swipe of lip gloss. I fastened my mother's delicate necklace around my neck, a small comfort amidst the day's unpredictability.
Bag and key card in hand, I made my way downstairs. Alaric was leaning against the front desk, sunglasses hiding his eyes, cargo pants and white button-up making him look effortlessly composed. Even in casual clothes, he had a presence that demanded attention.
"Morning, sir," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Morning." His smile was faint, controlled, but something in it made the air between us feel lighter. "Let's go get some breakfast."
Outside, a sleek black car waited. A man in black with a hat stood silently nearby.
"Mr. Armando," The chauffeur said, turning to me. "Miss Teixeira." He dipped his head and opened the car door.
"Thank you," I said, sliding in. Alaric took the seat beside me, quiet and professional, his presence unassuming but watchful.
The ride was smooth, yet heavy with an unspoken tension. I kept my gaze forward, hands folded neatly in my lap, my mind replaying the odd familiarity of recent events.
When the car stopped at Azul, I felt my stomach tighten. Floor-to-ceiling windows, dramatic wine cabinets, an ambiance that whispered wealth and elegance.
"Table for two, please," Alaric told the host.
The hostess led us to a secluded table. I picked up the menu and froze; everything was ridiculously expensive. My cheeks warmed. I felt exposed.
"Uh" Alaric looked up from his menu, studying me. "Can you order for me? I don't really know what to get."
He smiled softly, "Sure." My pulse was too fast, my hands slightly trembling. Why was I so nervous around him?
A waitress approached- tall, striking, red hair, blue eyes, impeccably made up. "I'm Sarah, and I'll be taking care of you today," she said.
Alaric leaned back in his chair and ordered for us both, Sarah jotted it down and left.
I watched Alaric for a moment, then asked impulsively, "Where did you go last night?"
His head snapped up, eyes sharp. I winced internally. Why did I have the audacity to ask that? He's my boss. A grown man.
"What's up with all the questions?" he asked, a faint edge in his tone.
"I... I was worried," I admitted, trying to sound casual. A nervous laugh escaped me. Sarah returned with a bottle of champagne, setting it down carefully.
Alaric didn't respond immediately. Then, after a pause, he asked, "What's your favorite color?"
"Black," I said, cautious. "Why?"
"Just getting to know you," he replied, taking a sip of champagne, calm as ever.
"Why do you want to 'know' me?" I said, air-quoting the word, frustration lacing my tone.
He shrugged. "I have no idea."
Something inside me snapped. The trips, the lunches, the invitations to events-it had been too much, too fast. Attractive as he was- and I couldn't deny the pull- I refused to be drawn into some cliché story where the secretary falls for the CEO. I refused to be that girl.
"I want to keep this professional, Mr. Alaric," I said, voice firmer now. "I love my job, and I don't want to jeopardize it. Taking your secretary to a birthday party as your date, then to lunch the next day- that isn't professional. Let's pretend this never happened."
He was quiet, stunned. I watched his expression flicker- something between surprise and frustration- before he cleared his throat. "Very well."
The meal passed in tense silence. Alaric didn't speak, and neither did I. Even the drive back to the hotel felt heavy with words left unsaid.
As we approached the lobby, I asked, "When are we leaving?"
"Tonight, at eight," he replied, eyes forward, voice clipped.
I nodded, opening my hotel room door. "Okay... see you later, then."
He ignored me, disappearing into his room.
My chest tightened. He was mad.
But really... what did he expect? Did he think this was some storybook romance? Secretaries and CEOs falling in love over champagne and luxury cars? This isn't that. Reality is different. And no matter how magnetic he is, no matter how much I feel it, it will never happen.
YOU ARE READING
● His Secretary ●
Romance"I'm falling for you," he murmured, his voice low and certain, as his warm hands framed my face. I shook my head, a bitter laugh slipping past my lips as I pulled away from his touch. "No, you're not. You don't even know me. To you, I'm just another...
