The Girl CEO

1.

"You conniving little-"

She abruptly raised her pointer finger, automatically silencing him. "I suggest you close your mouth before you get yourself into any more trouble, Mr.Sullivan." He gawked at her. "Hmm?" She couldn't help but let a malicious smile grace her face.

"You know I don't deserve this! You know that I need this job, you know - "

She cut his sentence off once again, growing tired of his arbitrary thoughts. "Do not tell me what I know. Only I know what I know and if you knew what I know - " She chortled humorlessly. "Oh, you wouldn't be unemployed now would you, Mr.Sullivan?" He snarled, like a brave puppy would to a vicious lion.

She smiled imperviously, pressing her manicured nail on a button labeled Security, all the while not breaking eye contact. Eye contact was a necessity in business; it bled power as if in a war. The inferior would always look away first, just as Lenard Sullivan had when he averted his gaze to his shiny black boot.

Security barged in, pulling him along as he continued to snarl at his boots - dragging them as much as the guards would let him. Only when the door had closed behind the men, had she broken eye contact. Evette Cradwell typed viciously on her computer, sending off emails as rapidly as a pedophile jerking off. That was what she did - not the jerking off part, of course - but the overbearing amount of work that most CEO's would do in weeks, she would have done in a day. She was fairly young, almost twenty-six which nobody dared to talk about in her presence.

One snide remark about her age or gender and they would be done..and she didn't care. How could she? Her father entrusted her; he raised her to be the better than any business man that had ever breathed. The only difference was she wasn't a man, despite her being as ruthless as one. She was known as 'The Witch'. With her long manicured nails, gravel grey eyes and copper colored hair. There was never a time where she wasn't wearing a skirt to her knees, with a button down shirt, that was ironically buttoned up, and tucked in.

Her phone rang, for the 23rd time in three minutes.

"Cradwell speaking, what's the urgency?" Everyone knows not to disturb her unless utterly urgent.

"I love it when you talk business to me." Everyone besides Maverick Reed. She hung up the phone, no emotion apparent on her face other than boredom. Maverick was another CEO-of a different company, of course. Their companies had been rivals since their fathers had run the companies.

Her phone rang again.

"What could you possibly want Mr.Reed? You know I am very busy and cannot deal with your-" She was cut off by an everlasting beep. Her mouth dropped, appalled that someone would hang up on her, let alone think about it.

She quickly pressed 2, leading her directly back to Maverick. "Mr-"

"Please, Evie. Don't call me 'Mr.Reed', otherwise I'll hang up on you." He sung the last few words as he twirled around in his large leather chair, getting tangled up in the phone chord.

"Hang up on me and cut me off while doing so?" He had always disrespected her, simply because they had grown up together. "Maverick, you are truly-"

"Handsome? Charming? A sex machine?" He smirked, pressing the phone closer to his ear as each word was said.

"As disgusting as a jar of phlegm." He rolled his eyes but he smiled nonetheless, secretly happy that she was brutally honest, rather than the usual kissing ass he gets. He was very powerful and with his large frame of 6'3, and broad shoulders he was well-liked amongst all the women that weren't CEO's. He was the typical handsome man, with light stubble across his jaw and chin - only making his blue eyes pop from the black hair. Despite the girls in the company, especially his secretary, being infatuated with him - she saw no point. While this so-called Sex Machine was willing to speak to her, when many men wouldn't dare, she gave no care.