Corporate Girlfriend

Corporate Girlfriend

Zinny Francis · Completed · 119.4k Words

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Introduction

"Why do you even care?" I fired at him hotly, my glare burning holes into his gorgeous face. It had been all about the passion and toe curling orgasms that he had given me but now, as I stared into his eyes, all I could feel was a need to slap that face.
Hard. Annoyed, I threw up my hands into the air.
"We are not even in a relationship, for god's sake! So I can fck or go out with any man I dmn please!" Immediately the words left my mouth, I knew at once that I had chosen my words badly.
Damien made no overt move, but his eyes went hard and dark. He began to walk towards me and I retreated in alarm, my pulse accelerating. He continued to stalk to my side until he successfully backed me into a wall. He stopped in front of me and placed his hands on either side of my head, caging me in. His head came down until he was staring into my eyes.
"That's where you've got it all wrong, bunny," he murmured, his voice a low, velvety timbre sending jolts of arousal to my loins.
"You are mine, you always have been. Make no mistake about that."


Do I have a job that I love so much? Yes.
Do I have a rude, grumpy boss who makes my blood boil and makes me plot ways to kill him and make it look like an accident? Abso-fckng-lutely!
That was me until one misaddressed email came to disrupt everything I have worked for. And then I had to do a favor for the grumpy boss. My name is Cheryl Chastain and I am totally screwed.

Chapter 1

CHERYL POV

I turned onto my side and smiled contentedly. Even in my sleepy trance, I was relaxed.

And then I heard the drawing back of my curtains, and almost immediately, sunlight filtered through, the rays directly hitting my face.

Groaning, I turned onto my front and snuggled more deeply into my bed.

"Arise and shine, sunshine!" A chirpy sing-song voice rang out.

"Someone, please shut the curtains," I mumbled into the pillow.

Someone chuckled – Gwen, I guessed. "You need to get your ass up, girl."

"Ten more minutes," I muttered, snootily.

Gwen outright laughed at me. I frowned. What's so funny?

"That's what you said about an hour ago," Gwen said.

I groaned aloud into my fluffy pillow. "What's the time?" I asked and attempted snuggling deeper into my 'comfy' bed.

"8 a.m, I guess," came the reply.

I froze for a heartbeat. And then my eyes snapped open with immediate urgency and horror, before they flew to the tiny bedside alarm clock, and a high-pitched shriek that could wake the dead exploded from my lips.

Shit. shit. Shit!

I bolted out of bed and hurriedly untangled the sheets wrapped around my ankles.

"Why didn't you wake me up, Gwen?" I raved at the brunette who stood a few meters away from me with a smug i-told-you-so look on her face.

"Well," she drawled. She examined her fingernails before proceeding to brush them across the front of her nightshirt- super dramatic if you ask me. "I did, but you were too deep in La-la-la land to wake up."

"Ugh, whatever!" I rolled my eyes at her and marched into my closet. "And where the hell is my toiletry bag?" I yelled a moment later.

A pretty sizable pink bag was thrust into my face, and I snatched it before hurrying my ass to the bathroom down the hall to get ready.

Note to self: get a plumber to fix the leak in my bathroom. It will save me more time in situations like this, not that I'm planning to have situations like this in the future.

A few minutes later, I hopped out of my bedroom in a brand-new outfit and tugged on my black stiletto heels while trying to check my phone for the time. I nearly damn shrieked.

I'm flipping late!!!

I strode towards my reading table in the corner, scooped up my purse, and checked the contents.

"Gwen, do you know where my reading glasses are?" I asked, making sure to raise my voice so that Gwen would hear me wherever she was.

"I'm sure you left them in the sitting room last night when you were working on that report," she replied from somewhere in the apartment.

My brows furrowed as I mouthed to myself, report? I can't remember working on any repo... My eyes grew as wide as saucers in their sockets.

HOLY MOTHER OF PEANUTS!!!! THE REPORT!!!

Cue a mental facepalm.

Omg, I can't believe I fell asleep while working on that report, the very one that I am supposed to present today by 9:30, and it's already 8:20 am.

How much time do I even have to make it to work early? Or what could be passed off as 'decently late'.

Still trying to tug on my super stubborn heels, I managed to limp-walk to the living room and saw my glasses balanced on the coffee table. I snatched them up and threw them into my purse. I immediately grabbed the neat stack of papers on the right edge of the table and flipped it open, my eyes flying over the printed words anxiously.

I breathed out a sigh of relief and pressed the papers to my chest. I completed them last night to my utmost relief.

"Found it!" I yelled triumphantly.

I spun on my heels and nearly bumped into Gwen, who was standing behind me with a cup of hot, steaming coffee and a muffin. She extended them to me.

"God, you're a lifesaver," I gushed as I grabbed the cup and chugged down the coffee in one go, the hot coffee lightly scalding my tongue. I grabbed the muffin and chomped down on it, using it to soothe my sore tongue.

"Thanks for this," I said gratefully.

Gwen shrugged nonchalantly and took the cup from me. "It's the least I could do to help. God knows you need caffeine to help you through your day at the office." She stared pointedly at the papers clamped tightly under my armpit.

I grimaced at the double meaning of her words, but damn it, she was right.

"I gotta go, so I can catch the bus early," I said instead, and bent at the waist to kiss her cheeks. "See you later, girl!"

I hurled my ass out of the door, slamming it shut behind me.

"Sorry!" I yelled as I nearly ran down a middle-aged woman who was exiting the building, in my haste to enter.

I stumbled into a large reception area paneled in rich rich mahogany and gleaming marble. An attractive brunette was seated behind the large reception desk topped with glass, the mahogany base bearing the distinctive insignia of Heron Industries.

I mumbled a greeting to the receptionist and hurried to the elevator.

Stopping in front of it, I pressed the call button and mumbled silent prayers under my breath. Luckily, the elevator arrived quickly, and I quickly stepped in.

I swiped my card through the slot and punched in the number for the top executive suite. The elevator doors slid shut, and the elevator began to move.

I dropped my purse to the clean floor gently and opened it to retrieve my phone. Oh my God! It's already 9 a.m. I quickly scanned my emails for the tenth time this morning to see if there was anything new from my boss, and came up with nothing.

Ok... Phew! Maybe he's also running late today, which is nearly impossible... Or he is already in his office, silently waiting for my coming.

Eerily, goosebumps erupted on my skin, and I rubbed my palms over my arms.

I groaned again. What number is it again? Oh, just forget it. Just then, I imagined my boss raining fire and brimstone on me and subsequently firing my ass and I shuddered. I prayed against it...and this damned elevator is taking forever today, of all days.

Catching my reflection in the glass elevator walls, I cringed. I looked like a deranged psycho. Taking out a compact mirror from my bag, I dabbed some powder on my sweaty face, applied a little lip gloss, and then pulled my hair into a severe and tight ponytail.

I smoothed my hands down my gown and let out a small smile. There, that's better.

I took a glance at the rapidly rising numbers and inhaled deeply.

I can do this. I can do this. God, why am I panicking this much?

Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale.

The elevator arrived at the sixtieth floor with a discreet chime, the doors opening to reveal a large office area, and I stepped out. Mia was missing behind her desk.

I breathed out a deep sigh of relief. I'm not really in the mood to be cross-examined this morning by nosy co-workers and alert him of my late arrival. When I eventually do face him, I'd prefer to do it on my terms. For now, I just have to get to my desk and prepare myself mentally and physically for his berating.

I tiptoed on, holding my breath, and as I nearly reached my corner...

"Oh, Cheryl! You're here!"

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