In Between The Lines

The man worth billions

*SCREEEE*

"SHIT" I screech, jumping 5 feet into the air. My heart pounds in my chest in a rhythmic storm.

"Miss Ellington, are those files done yet?" A pissed off voice calls into the intercom.

I glance over at the clock, 6:47am. I've literally been here for a little over half an hour and that āss gave it to me when I got here today. I curse under my breath. What the hēll does he expect from me?

"I'll have them over to your office in 5 minutes" I say after I've clicked the button. Lucky for him, I'm almost done. Not proofread or checked over once, but that ass will take it regardless. Despite being a lazy asshole, he does know how to string words together in perfect harmony. That's probably why he's top of his game. Pulling out my single earbud I sigh angrily.

I've worked for Mr Hygh for about a year and he has never once been polite. I constantly wonder why I still work for him, but I guess it's because I like feeling important. Plus the pay doesn't hurt. The "perfect" life of a secretary. What bullshīt. He's rather obnoxious and demanding.

I make my way down the clean white hallways, waving at the lady at the front desk, Serena, as I pass by.

"Good morning Serena" I greet her. She looks up from what she's doing, her brown hair hanging in ringlets and her caramel eyes hiding behind her glasses. Serena has gorgeous dark skin, and the sassiest attitude.

"Hey there Ocean" she says with a smile. Her eyes drop to the files tucked into my arm and she rolls her eyes. "Honestly, what kind of business do we run here? An olympic race?" she mumbles. She knows how hard I'm pushed.

I continue on my way, my blue heels clicking against the hard floors and my tight black skirt rubbing against my thighs. My blue shirt is pressed to perfection.

I click the up button in the elevator and wait patiently as it takes me to the top floor. The soft elevator music makes my temper rise bit by bit, but I try to calm down by digging my fingernails into my palms and taking deep breathes.

I suppose I've always had a short temper. I was the student in class that would pull on a girls hair or kick guys in their, well you know, if they ever fought me. I had a lot of detentions growing up..

When the door opens I make my way to Mr Hygh's office. The door is closed and out of habit, I pause before entering, listening carefully.

I hear some smacking sounds, and a grunt. I roll my eyes and ring the bell. "Mr Hygh I'm here to drop off some files, shall I bring them in?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

There's a sound of shuffling and zippers and then the door opens. The nurse from down stairs, Trisha, comes running out in her uniform. Her blonde hair is disheveled and her face is bright red.

She mumbles something when passing me but I don't really pay too much attention. Instead I'm looking at Quinton, or rather, Mr Hyghs.

His eyes are flaming, his shirt isn't tucked in and he has his tie on his shoulder. I roll my eyes and walk in, putting the file on his desk.

It's horrid. There's papers flung everywhere, files opened and then thrown down randomly. Words are scribbled all over his white board. Behind me the door closes.

"What the literal hełł!" Quinton yells at me, his fists clenched. I know he hates when I disturb him when he has girls inside, but I seriously don't care. I've never cared. You can't ask me to do my job and then be pissed when I do. Just cuz he can't keep his little twig in his pants..

"Well.." I start, walking up to him. "If you have some whørē over, you shouldn't be calling me up to drop files off half an hour early." I say sternly with my finger pointing at him. It's like scolding a child.

His jaw twitches, "Send an email to Mr Klinch, the owner of Hullers, and tell him our meeting for 6pm will have to be pushed until 11pm." He says, turning to his desk. He pulls out a piece of paper, jotting down a number.

"I need you to track this number, give me all the information you find." I glance down at the number. "Yes sir, when do you need it done?" I ask, cooling down. Back to business.

"2pm at the latest so I can go over it. I need you to go tell the janitors to clean out the meeting room, and set up the appointment with Mr Klinch for 11pm." He says, fixing his cuffs and then glancing up with his cruel blue eyes. "I have a meeting from 3:30pm to 10pm, so don't worry about scheduling lunch or dinner for me."

I nod my head and turn around. When I reach the door I glance back, and see him laying back in his chair with his hands over his face. He must be stressed. Interesting.

• • •

It takes me an hour to get the long list done. I take the file that is filled with all the information on the number. Apparently the number belongs to a man named Hyatt Winston.

Hyatt Winston went missing 10 months ago. He lived with his wife, Margaret, and had a son named Weston. Which, of course I feel bad for because Weston Winston? Really? Poor guy. Weston is 34 and his missing father just turned 66. Hyatt has brown hair, green eyes and a scar over his lip.

I've got his new number, old address, picture, email, something about a hotel he was staying in, and much more. It took some digging but lucky for Quinton, I'm very good at what I do. It only took hacking into several things and then it was easy for me to find his new phone and track it. He was currently in North Carolina.

I make my way to his office, pausing at the door. I hear sounds, again. Now I'm pissed. I can feel my blood boiling.

I open the door to a screaming chick, some blonde from the offices downstairs. I roll my eyes, walking straight up to Quinton's desk. I slam the files down and turn on my heel, making my way towards the door. Zipper sounds. A frustrated groan. A whimper and the sound of feet.

Something grabs my shoulder, spinning me around. I meet the flaming eyes of Quinton. He raises a hand, and I flinch. A justified reaction I would say.

A confusing expression crosses his face, then he's mad again. "What have I told you!!?" He yells at me, his fingers running through his hair. I go up close to him, looking straight into his eyes. I'm not afraid of him, I've never been afraid of him. The idiot is taller than me, he's burly, his eyes could cut through diamond, and he's got every single Lawyer, Officer, Business Owner and even the Mayor wrapped around his slim little finger. But that doesn't scare me. Well it kind of does, but I won't show him that. At least I'd go down with a fight.

"What did I tell you about taking whøres in here...right after you ask me to do some work for you....." I say softly. I am livid. I do realize he's here all day, however, how hard is it? Ugh god, not what I meant..

He knows that I finish my work quickly and effectively. I've worked here long enough for him to understand that, and long enough for him to realize he shouldn't be taking ladies in here to play with, during work hours. I can't even begin to count how many times I've had to pick up cøndøms and wipe up all manners of liquids off the floor. Including blood. The sad part really, it's almost like he's clueless! Literally just leave a note on the door!

I'm his secretary for crying out loud. Not his babysitter, not his personal caretaker. I've had to send flowers to so many women because they become upset about how they were played, how they were used, he's a natural heartbreaker! There's no way they didn't know about Quinton though, everyone does. After all, he is the "king" of NewYork. Well..he's not a king..but he is a freaking billionaire. He takes care of missing people cases when people don't want to deal with the police, he owns businesses everywhere, famous company's and he's a model.

Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, knows about him.

Quinton's eyes flash. "Don't you dare forget your place.." he whispers dangerously, "I can fire you faster than the blink of an eye, I can destroy your fūckin' life.."

I take a deep breath trying to calm the raging fire inside of me. "Yes sir. You will find your files on your desk." I say through gritted teeth, "now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do." I say, pressing my lips together to the point they're white, and I turn on my heel.

"Miss Ellington!.." he yells angrily, but I don't give him the satisfaction of the last remark. I storm out of the room.

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Y'all should get caught up in my other book as well, "Don't fall".