The Belle Behind The Mask

Chapter 1

DIANA THORTON

"Fuck, fuck fuck!" I cursed as I raced through the crowd in my trusty sneakers with a handful of items in different shopping bags and coffee in the other- to get my boss's watch from the repair shop. I'd almost forgotten about Mr stick up his butt's overly expensive wristwatch. Hell hath no fury as a livid Alexander Stone should in case I show up without that watch.

"I am so sorry" I apologized after nearly colliding my coffee with a tourist. How did I know? Hat, shorts, sunglasses, a sling bag, and a map in hand- typical attributes of a tourist.

Pushing my glasses up by its bridge; a bad habit, I needed to get that stupid yet pricy enough to pay my salary for nearly a year wristwatch and then high tail it back to the office to finish up other looming tasks.

With my thighs rubbing against each other much to my chagrin as I raced on, beads of sweat forming a small pool and were now dripping down my face, damp armpits, and even my grey-rimmed glasses fogging up as a result of the heat emitting from my body, I knew without seeing my reflection that I looked a mess.

I silently cursed Alexander for making me go through this. I'd taken the job not entirely knowing what it entailed.

Amanda, the previous assistant didn't mention that the role required being at the beck and call of the CEO- maybe she did but it definitely did not include this.

She did list a few errands but did not include, gift shopping for his numerous easy lay arm candies, picking up laundry, treading up and down steep hills just to get his favorite coffee, and the ridiculous likes- or maybe she did, and I wasn't listening. The whole orientation process was a blur because I couldn't pinch myself out of what I thought was still a dream:La Belle freaking hiring me!

What a hidden epiphany I've come to unravel. They needed somebody to clean up his dirty laundry and who better than a girl who didn't go to the university?

Over time, I had concluded that Executive assistants are just as much as slaves and all that I could do was rant and curse to myself, not forgetting to hail my shitty luck.

I'd accepted the job even though I knew next to nothing about being a secretary or Assistant and had to binge the entire season of What's wrong with Assistant Nicki to know the basics. And no, in my case, I won't be working as an assistant for 9 years.

I also hoped that with time, they will come to realize my potential and allow me to work in the product development department- one I had applied for a few times and got rejected. The reason was 'underqualified', which was true. I'd ditched college to go to a vocational beauty school instead, and while I thought it should be enough to kick-start my career in the beauty industry, it looks like society's standard of obtaining a degree will never go extinct.

I needed to show my skills and working directly under the nose of the CEO didn't seem like a bad idea at that time for someone as desperate as I was but, out of all the bosses in the world, it had to be a stuck-up one.

Six months working in La Belle Beauty and now, I know him to the tooth. He is stuck up, intimidating, cold, self-absorbed, lacked self-awareness, and most importantly, didn't care how his actions impacted others. It's his way or the highway.

I joined the short queue of people waiting to get on the bus and finally sunk on a chair to collect myself, wipe the sweat off my face and enjoy the twenty minutes ride.

I quickly scanned through WhatsApp and my text messages while mentally praying that Alexander didn't leave me another errand. I heaved a sigh of relief when I found no outstanding message from him, and one from my boyfriend. I made a mental note to check his message later.

Finally, I felt like I could breathe even if it was only for twenty minutes.

People passed in my peripheral vision as the bus slipped into the light traffic. It took seeing a boy downing a drink to make me remember that I'd not had breakfast and that my coffee was not with me. A quick trip back in time made me realize that I must have dropped it at the repair shop.

Great! Can this day get any worse?

As if that was the cue mother earth was waiting for, my phone chimed loudly. I hurriedly picked up the call after seeing Alex's name - saved as Mr. Narcissist- stare vividly at me.

"You're late" His voice is as usual, cold

Telling my boss that I had to go back for the wristwatch I forgot which in return cost me an extra twenty minutes isn't exactly the way out. Alexander hates excuses, as well as expects you to own up to your shit with your full chest and then deal with the consequence which of course is his go-to catchphrase "You're fired"

In my six months of working for him, he'd have fired nearly fifteen people over something trivial.

Did somebody tell him being mean was the new cool?

"I will be there in fifteen. There's a lot of traffic and you know tomorrow is Christmas so there's a lot of hustle and bustle."

"Make it five, Ms. Thorton. I don't care if you have to walk, or fly, just be here in five."

The line went dead abruptly before I could say another word.

How am I supposed to get to the office in five?

How the hell did Amanda live through this? No wonder the poor lady had to go only after three months. Honestly, it took the light at the end of the tunnel- which is the big picture, which is my dream to work in La Belle, to stay this long... I would have called it quits after twenty-four hours, six months ago.

It's Christmas Eve and nothing is Christmassy for me, which is a bummer because Christmas is usually my favorite holiday of the year.

It's Alexander's way or the highway and in this case, the highway meant not giving a shit and calling it quits. I didn't want to do that. La Belle would be an eye-opener and a great reference for me in the industry.

In summary, I needed the job for my portfolio and enough money to start my own company which I plan on making when I win the annual La Belle Beauty Entrepreneur competition.

An initiative to fund entrepreneurs with excellent business ideas with one million dollars as the grand prize, I am sure that I am going to win with my killer facial mask for older people idea. There's nothing like it in the beauty world. That part of the industry is too invested in the younger generation to realize that older people need confidence building too and that things like wrinkles and the likes shouldn't limit them from feeling beautiful.

After a brief back-and-forth discussion with myself, I decided it was Alexander's way which meant, running thirty blocks to get to the office building.

"You look like you just got hit by a tornado" Caroline, the receptionist and possibly one of my two work friends in the office couldn't help but point out the obvious.

"Tell me about it." I gave her a tired eye roll as I walked past.

"Break a leg! I heard Mr. Hot Pants is feisty at the moment. He probably has zero endorphins" She added.

Oh no! Here we go again.