AFTER NEVER (Charlotte's Story)

Chapter 4/76: Golden Trap

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I have always hated that voice.

That annoying, egoistic, rude, impatient and commanding, bastard-like voice. From the deepest depths of my cores I've hated it. Like, why? Why does this voice have to be the one I wake up to daily?!

Darn!

I left my hand to feel the way on its own to my phone, while keeping my eyes closed, until it finally clutched into it over the bedside table.

I turned the damned alarm off, and tortured my eyes by opening them.

"I hope you choke on dollars, Rickard Ellington Conway!" I moaned, sleepily, and slipped off my bed.

I eyed Katy on the bed beside mine, "Crap, you don't have work today, huh. Yeah, yeah, keep sleeping!" I stuck my tongue out at the sleeping her, and headed to take a shower, and then head to work.

**************

Work through the beginning of day was quite peaceful, like, eerily peaceful.

Not a single order from his majesty dropped over my head.

As the first hour of the work day passed by, I decided to go and knock on his door.

Maybe he's dead?

A sharp pain tugged at my heart.

Holy no he can't be!

I headed to his office, and knocked. No answer.

I reached for the door knob, and twisted.

Locked.

Damn him!

Well, at least I know he's not dead and is somewhere outside the company.

I sighed, and went back to my office. Just why does he employ a private secretary if he won't be here, even more, if he won't take me with him to his meetings?

I felt a lump form in my throat, and my thoughts wandered to how cold he'd been during the last two times I'd seen him.

When I woke up, and yesterday.

I recalled how deep his eyes felt, and how diverted from mine they were.

It was like our looks were similar charges, and when they connected, his gaze directly rejected mine and turned away.

I felt my heart clutch again, damn him!

As I sank into my office chair, I noticed there was still some work to be done here and there, and so, sighing in defeat, I dove into my work with enthusiasm.
.
.
.

Soon enough, break time came, and I headed towards the cafeteria.

There, I ordered the president's favorite 'Lasagna', and headed to a table of my own, where I sat to eat alone.

I hadn't taken the first bit of my plate yet, when the whole cafeteria went dead silent, and all eyes shot to its entry.

You might as well hear the needle drop in the silence occupied by it so suddenly, as the whole audience gazed with bewilderment towards the glory of the specimen of manhood that stood at its door.

His haughty gaze was colder than ice; it never wavered as it drowned the whole cafeteria within its deepness. He stood tall, literally, his black suit lustfully craving for his body and hugging it as if there's no tomorrow.