The CEO's Kryptonite ⚣ ✓

03

"Oh fuck me." I whispered to myself as soon as the light rays hit my very sensitive eyes. All I felt was intense throbbing.

I thought I was in my bed.

I had definitely passed out on the bean bag chair in my living room.

Actually, just making it home in general was a big enough accomplishment for me.

There had been some mornings where I'd woken up in a park, or at a transit station...

Or in Louisiana...

I felt around for my phone, but couldn't find it anywhere.

"Fuck." I whispered again. What time was it anyways? As I stumbled into the kitchen and glanced at the microwave, I almost tumbled back into my dining room table. It was 10:43am.

10:43 am.

I was suppose to pick up the laptop parts at 8:15 sharp!

I mean, I could probably make up a solid excuse for my tardiness. And it wasn't like Christian fucking Ivanov was going to personally oversee the reconstruction of one stupid fucking laptop... right? My teeth clenched at the thought of our conversation yesterday. The guy seemed like a real verified jackass.

I didn't have the time to figure out where my phone was, and I decided that if I couldn't find it tonight, I would just replace the damn thing.

-

"Oooh you're late as hell." Joan commented as soon as I entered the third floor. Inconveniently, the third floor was also where we signed in with our badges.

"What the actual hell happened last night?" I groaned. Both Derek and Joan chuckled.

"You got so fucked up." Derek spoke up over the chuckles. " You tried juggling whiskey glasses and broke all three of them. That was when Tully said we had to get you home."

"Nah, I'm pretty sure it was when Alex tried making out with a poster of Rosie the Riveter by the jukebox." Joan added.

I both mentally and physically face palmed.

"Please text Tully and apologize on behalf of me and my inadequate tolerance for alcohol." I barely whispered.

"I'll just send him a snapchat of how terrible you look. I think he'll feel bad enough." Joan replied. She was right, though. My everything was a mess, and I was sporting some serious bags underneath my eyes... although I guess I always had bags. I had basically just thrown on whatever I could and left. Almost made it out the door without any pants.

"Today is going to be bullshit too with that fucking laptop Christian fucking Ivanov wants me to fucking fix."

Joan and Derek shared a glance.

"You might want to maybe just not talk... like at all today..." I gave Derek a look.

"I'm hungover. I have to literally go work for the devil himself. Today is too hard a day to give a fuck about, man." I mumbled. Derek and Joan shared yet another glance. Today was going to be one of those days.

-

"You're late."

"I couldn't find my keys." For two hours? I mentally face palmed.

I guess that was the best excuse I could come up with. I was currently speaking with the same man that had made that call a minute before I was supposed to leave this god forsaken place last night. I still didn't know his name.

"You were looking for your keys for two hours?" He asked me.

Micromanaging much?

"Excuse me?" He asked. Fuck. I couldn't distinguish between whether I was thinking shit or saying shit anymore. Now I felt like I should've just called in all together.

"Nothing. Nothing. I'll get right on it." I sighed again. My head felt like it was going to fucking explode.

He said nothing as he left me to get to work. I had carefully laid the remnants of what was once a functioning computer, in my bottom drawer. As soon as I pulled out that same drawer to retrieve the laptop, my heart dropped all over again.

This thing was so fucked up.

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