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Savannah rushed into her office building trying to escape the blistering Manhattan winter chill. She hated Winter. She tiptoed into her office wanting ten minutes to herself just to enjoy her latte and chocolate chip muffin. Eyeing her delicious looking breakfast, Savannah peeled of her trench coat and gloves and was about to take a seat when she heard her boss barking her name.
How the hell does he know I'm here?
Sighing silently, she entered his office. 'Morning Mr. Templeton,' she handed him his filter coffee. She tried to ignore the rippling muscles bulging beneath his cotton shirt, focusing her attention on not spilling his coffee. Clearly he'd been here for a while. His jacket hung on the coat hanger. The crisp white sleeves of his shirt were neatly folded to the elbow.
'I expected you here earlier!' he rasped, not returning her greeting.
Never mind that she had come in thirty minutes early just to prepare the boardroom. Savannah's eyes did not hold his for too long. She could not bear it. He did things to her, this sinfully handsome, arrogant, and oh so gorgeous male specimen. He was always grumpy before a board meeting and she knew it well. He took his coffee from here and gulped down half the contents before he continued, 'you will have to reprint page six before we start ___in twenty five minutes,' he checked his platinum watch and turned his back to her, returning to his laptop.
'Yes sir,' she strode out and quickly made a call to the typing pool for assistance. If she was going to reprint documents and make fresh information packs for each of the boardroom members, somebody else had to help her set up the boardroom. As the CEO's p.a., she could make the executive decision to command additional resources from the typing pool.
With five minutes to spare, Savannah was finished. She eyed her ice-cold latte distastefully, before she tossed it into the trash can. She picked up the information packs and headed for the boardroom.
'Savannah! Where's my coffee?' Ross Templeton marched into the boardroom.
You've had three already! I've not even had one yet.
'There you go,' she handed him the cup. She silently entertained the thought of strapping a coffee machine to his back. He consumed like twenty cups a day.
'Thank you Savannah,' she finally got the first smile of the day. Savannah dragged her eyes away. She'd love to stand there and indulge in one of Ross Templeton's rare smiles, but what good would it do? She could be a robot for all he cared. In the eighteen months she'd worked for him, he'd never once looked at her with anything akin to her resembling a human or for that member a desirable member of the opposite sex.
Ross looked around the packed boardroom. Everybody was busy indulging in refreshments and networking with each other. Perhaps they had not had time for breakfast. He had summoned them rather early, he grinned in a self satisfied manner. About to officially start the meeting, he nodded to Savannah. She took her seat next to the CEO and opened her pad, readying herself to take notes. She stole a look at Ross Templeton whilst he was busy on the phone. He had angled his body away from everybody to take the call. All Savannah could view from her position of vantage was his expansive, colossal shoulders and his curly hair over his collar. Ross leaned forward to reach for something, and his tapered waist was exposed. Savannah swallowed convulsively and quickly looked away. Ross's personal mobile rang, thankful for the distraction, she reached for it.
'Can I speak to Ross,' the sex kitten's voice purred.
Savannah was reluctant to disillusion the caller but she knew Ross would not take the call. 'He's busy on another call Ms. Farlow. May I take a message for him?' She was Ross's flavour of the moment. His "moments" did not often last longer than two or three months. Surprisingly this one was in its fourth month.
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At the Boss's Beck and CallGeneral Fiction
She did not think he found her desirable. She was just his secretary. He did not think she'd want to go to bed with him. She knew too much about his private life; the name of every woman who'd been in his bed in the last eighteen months. They tr...