The alarm clock next to my bed rings, and I reach out to turn the damned thing off, but my legs get caught in the bedsheets and I tumble out of bed, hitting my head on the floor.
Oh great. It's going to be one of those days. Like all my days.
Standing up, I walk over to the mirror on the wall. It's never fun, but as I start brushing my hair I give myself a look over. Long, thick golden-brown hair that reaches my waist, long legs, a small waist, and boobs that are definitely too big. My friends always complain that I should eat more, that I'm too skinny. They don't know what it's like to look like this. They're all beautiful with voluptuous bodies.
I hope my interview goes well today. I'm to meet the CEO of BigBillionaire Inc to interview for his assistant.
I'm sweating by the time I arrive – palms clammy, heart racing. The drive feels like forever, even though it's only a few minutes. I glance down at my front as I exit the car – and cringe. My blouse is hideous. It's frilly and blue, kind of old school, and it shows off my curves. I'm worried it's too low-cut for an interview. You can see a hint of cleavage peeking out from beneath the v-shaped neckline. More than a hint, to be honest – any lower, and you might be able to glimpse my bra.
I flush with embarrassment. I should have picked something else, but I accidentally doused my favorite blouse with espresso last week. I'm clumsy like that.
I stare at the BigBillionaire sign and summon the courage to go inside. I hate to admit how desperately I need this job. Fresh out of college, and I have student loans to pay, not to mention my rent will be due in a week.
Mr. Cesar's office is on the 60th floor. I'm so nervous, I accidentally try to go the wrong way through the revolving door after I reach the top. Somehow (How do these things always happen to me?) my right boob gets caught in the space between the door and the wall. I yell, battling with the door, fighting to free myself.
An alarm beeps.
Seriously?
I wrest my way free of the door, just as a security guard appears.
"Everything okay, Miss?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.
I nod, red with shame, and hurry into the foyer.
A woman greets me at the desk. She looks me up and down, and I'm instantly struck by how much she intimidates me. Her bleach-blonde hair is flawless, with perfect wavy blow-dried curves, and her nails are impeccably manicured. I wish I could get my hair and nails to look like that. Her lips thin as she stares at me. I know she is judging my exposed cleavage, and I flush and cover my chest.
"I'm sorry for the inconvenience," she says. "Mister Cesar was supposed to interview you at 11, but he is currently in a meeting. He should be out in half an hour. Please make yourself comfortable while you wait."
She leaves to go do whatever secretaries or assistants do. (I confess, even though I'm applying for the role of assistant, I'm not sure what the job entails. Calling people? Answering emails? Dressing nicely? Taste-testing the boss' food?) Nervously, I look around. I seem to be in some kind of massive foyer. In the corner sits a giant pool, overgrown with plants, lily pads, and small trees. Feeling the sudden urge to rinse my sweaty hands in the cool water, I head towards it.
As I set my bag and folder aside and reach for the cool pool of water, the secretary yells at me.
"Are you crazy?"
Since I'm so clumsy, I jump, throw off my balance, and fall headlong into the undisturbed pool of water.
Feet clamour towards me. Sirens suddenly blare nearby, and I'm pulled out of the pool, soaking wet from head to knee (yup, it was that kind of a fall, where my legs were sticking up like a popsicle stick). In fact, they were what the security guard had to grab in order to pull me out.
A metal grill slides into place.
I look up to see two hungry eyes break the surface of the water.
"Is that a crocodile?" I breathe, utterly unaware that everyone is looking at me and thinking 'who's this clutch?'
"Are you okay, Miss?"
The security guard scans me up and down. His eyes linger longer than I'd like on my breasts.
Before I can say 'yes' rather unconvincingly, I hear a booming voice from behind, a voice that makes my knees weak. So weak, in fact, that I start to lean back towards the tiny bit of the pool still on this side of the grill. The guard props me back up.
"What the hell is going on out here?"
I turn to see a god among mortals.
His chiseled chin has just the hint of a shadow. His blue eyes pierce through me as he stares at me. His tailored Hugo Boss suit hangs off him like he's ready for a runway shoot.
"Mr Cesar?" says the woman from before. I want to tell her to shush. "This is your next interview - Miss...?"
"Lancherlot," I volunteer in a rush.
I'm cold now, and a shiver is starting to set in. I pick up my bag and try to maintain some semblance of dignity. I wouldn't be surprised if the man throws me out the door.
Mr Cesar's eyes slowly scan me from head to toe. I see his jaw clench a little tighter, and I can't help but look away in shame. I definitely should not have worn this blue top, now so heavy with water that the neckline is plunging towards my bra. Just great. That's all I needed, for him to see my frumpy bra.
He clears his throat. "Shall we get on with it then, Miss Lancherlot?"
He says my name slowly, and I shiver, but not because of the cold.
YOU ARE READING
The Billionaire Werewolf CEO, the Boobalicious Secretary and his Possessive Croc
ComédieChastity is just an ordinary girl. Living an ordinary life. Until one day. It was only supposed to be a job interview. But it turned into so much more. She met him. Mr Cesar. And everything changed. But who is he really? Why does he disappear at ni...