Possession (Editing)

Chapter 2

I was actually proud of myself. I had managed to get up, shower, grab coffee (and not spill it), and arrive at work by 5:45. I dressed in yet another tight pencil skirt, my black strapped heels, with a purple top, since Mr. Dickhead insisted to never wear pink in his presence again. I cursed at him for that; pink is what consisted most of my damn wardrobe!

I found him crouched over my desk, his cuffed white button up was opened, revealing to what seemed to be some mighty strong pecks. I bet if Amy was here she'd be having a visual orgasm. He was on my computer, dabbling something in- wait my computer.

"Excuse me," I say softly, knocking on my door. He was unmoved by my statement so I spoke louder.

"Excuse me, Mr. Carter." He glanced up at me, and I raised my eyebrow.

"Excuse you Ms Banks. I'm impressed you managed to get here 15 minutes earlier than I instructed." His tone showed sarcasm and it instantly irritated me. I walked over and handed him his coffee, he sipped it once and cringed in disgust.

"I like my coffee black." He muttered handing it back to me.
Ass.
"My apologizes, sir." I reply trying to hide my anger.

"May I ask what are you doing on my computer?" I ask, setting our drinks down. "I changed it's settings- so that everything you do and write will show up on my computer." He pauses- the nerve of this man! He reaches into his pocket, retrieving an IPhone 5.

"I want you to have this- I transferred all my information to this phone. This will be your new phone- you may use it however you please too." He hands me the beautiful black IPhone.

"Black?" I whisper and I'm unaware that he hears me until he says, "It shows profession. It's conservative and strictly business-like." I blink at him, and look back down at my new phone. But I could never replace my good ole reliable Galaxy S3. Never!

"Do you have this tracked too?" I guess he thought I was joking when I ask the question cause he chuckles, "No Ms. Banks- I do not." We sit there in silence and I feel his eyes on me. Observing me.

"Wear red from now on." He states and finally gets up from my chair.

Now wait just a diddly darn minute. I can't wear pink and now I have to wear red? Wasn't there a rule against this? I will not have a man tell me what I can and cannot wear!

"Why?" I whine, almost like a child. Was he trying to ruin my perfected color coordinated wardrobe? He had no respect for a females love for fashion!

"Because I said so. Dont question me." He spats at me, his brown eyes burning right back into mine. This man wasn't my father, he can't tell me what to do! "Now I have some fax being sent over from my old business, I want you to look it over and send a notification back that you have read all terms. Understood Ms. Banks?" He says sternly. Jeez, why was this guy so serious all the time? "Yes sir." I hear myself say, and he's out the door.

I'm already beginning to hate my job.

Amy brought me breakfast. Praise the lawd- I was starved and Mr. Carter didnt include the fact that over 15 fucking people would be sending 5 paged essay on how they wish him good luck! I rolled my eyes and sent him an overview, through my computer while fighting the urge to get on Tumblr. You will never be too old for Tumblr. Even though 24 wasn't considered old. "How's your megalomanic boss?" She asks, slipping herself next to me. "Megalomanic as ever," I sigh, writing 'notifcation number 8'

"Ms. Newmort has been on dick all morning. You should really be happy you're overly small cubicle is in the way back so you wont have to endure the whoreness up front." Amy tells me swinging her feet back and forth.