Harry Styles Shorts and One Shots

CEO 3

TW: This chapter talks of physical abuse from a parent. I normally don't add TWs per chapter anymore, but I know it can be a sensitive subject, so I wanted to give a heads up. Anyway, I love you all. Thanks.

Word Count: 5,000

Y/N

  My eyes spread wide as I'm ripped from my deep sleep by my phone's alarm, making my body shake briefly in my bed. I quickly turn it off, not wanting to wake Jasmine, my roommate.

It's roughly six in the morning, and I know I have to pull my exhausted ass from bed and get ready for my day. It's nice not having to attend class, but going to Edwards Electronics has me waking up even earlier.

Of course I don't mind since I get to do what I've always dreamed of doing. I just dread it for the first few minutes of my day. Once I take a shower and have some coffee, my grouchiness passes and I become excited again.

This is my third day of working for Mr. Edwards, and I can't say he hasn't grown on me. He's definitely still conceited and irritating, but in a playful way. I've never had a big-girl job like this before, and I enjoy the dynamic that Mr. Edwards and I have established.

He's fun to tease and I enjoy it back. I'm the same way with my professors, but perhaps less flirtatious. I don't even mean to be that way with Mr. Edwards, it just happens and I don't regret it once it's out. He's damn good looking, and the fact that he's eleven years older than me blows my mind. He looks like he could go to school here.

I'm fully aware it's not professional to find my future boss hot, but it's not like I'd ever act on it. This job he's offered me means more to me than whatever horny thoughts go through my head when I look at him. I need this job to prove that I am good enough. Not to anybody in particular, but to myself.

Growing up, my dad was an abusive, alcoholic piece of shit. He'd beat me, my mom, and my little sister. It wasn't just physical abuse, either. It was the constant insults and put-downs of how none of us will ever amount to anything. For a long time, I believed him. Hearing that for so long, you can't help but think that it's true.

Being in business is my way of hitting my dad where it hurts the most. That was his dream; to go into business and be successful, but he never did. Instead, he accidentally got my mom pregnant and was unable to make it to college. I think that he was taking it out on us the whole time he was around, but that doesn't justify his actions in the slightest.

He's scum and always will be. I have no idea where in the world my dad is, but I hope that he'll see my face plastered on a billboard one day, leading some huge company. He'll be furious, and I know it. Nobody was allowed to be smarter or "better" than him in any way. We'd get punished for talking back or making fair points, something I've honed my skills into.

I don't allow people to talk down to me after the years of abuse I suffered from him. Nobody is allowed to intimidate me anymore. I'm my own force to be reckoned with.

Today, I've decided to let my hair down naturally. Wearing it up in a French twist all day gives me a headache, and that's the last thing I need on top of everything. I was able to finish two essays last night, so I have two more I need to do by midnight Friday, tomorrow.

It was sweet of Mr. Edwards to offer his help, but I like succeeding on my own. I've never sought the guidance or aid of somebody else. Ever since my dad left, I've been independent. I prefer living my life alone. 

  At the office, I stride into the boardroom at 8:58, being sure to test Mr. Edwards' patience as best as I can. I don't ever want him to think that he can control me in any way. I've stopped allowing people to walk all over me.