"What if everybody hates me?" I asked Jonathan nervously as we backed out of his garage.
It was my first day working at the almighty Stiller Incorporated and to say I was nervous would be the understatement of the entire year.
He chuckled, "Nobody could hate you."
"I beg to differ!"
"Yeah, you're right – people do have a tendency to hate you," He agreed.
I turned and gave him a glare. "Thanks, I appreciate it."
He shrugged as a reply and we drove in silence for a few more moments before Jonathan rested his hand that was closest to me on my upper thigh.
"You're going to be fine darling," He assured, "And if anybody disagrees they'll have to answer directly to me."
I groaned, "I don't want you to have to be fighting my battles for me, Jonathan. I want it to be regular for me where I get to make my own friends and hate the people that talk about my friend and I like in every other office."
"But then I don't get to warn people against messing with you," He pouted.
I rolled my eyes even though I wanted to hop out the car and start doing a happy dance on the roof because his hand was still pressed firmly to my thigh as he drove.
But, of course, I couldn't do that – he'd think I'm more insane than he already does.
"Better yet, how about you pretend you don't know me?" I offered. "I'm just a regular girl that got hired to work at Stiller Incorporated and not a girl that is dating her boss."
"Regular girls don't get hired and automatically become head of a department," He pointed out. "Plus, it's going to be hard to pretend like I don't know you when you're wearing that tight skirt." He briefly looked down at my short, black, pencil skirt before focusing his eyes back on the road.
"I thought it looked nice with my top." I pouted slightly, pulling down the skirt as if it would magically make it longer. When I picked out my outfit last night, with Jonathan's approval and objections, of course, I decided on a white blouse, black dress pants, and some black peep-toe heels.
He wasn't exactly ecstatic when I made my way down the stairs in my skirt instead of the pants he picked out that practically dragged on the floor and fit me loosely.
"You look beautiful," He insisted, "But I liked the pants better."
I shrugged, not going to get into a disagreement with him over what covered my legs or what wasn't covering my legs.
We rode in silence for a few more minutes with me picking at my nails anxiously.
I was seriously worried about this. What if they didn't like me? What if that person that didn't like me decided they were going to poison my food? Oh god, what if I ended up dying? What if I-
"We're here," Jonathan announced.
I looked up at the giant glass building in awe–it had to be at least 100 stories! Jonathan chuckled beside me, most likely at the fascinated look on my face as I attempted to count the floors the building had.
Before I knew it, we had driven through the large gates that led into the parking garage and dear ol' Johnny boy was parking his fancy black car in a special spot.
"Here goes nothing," I mumbled as I got out of the car.
~*~*~
I muttered a string of profanities as I looked up at the clock in Jonathan's office.
2:30 p.m.
Since I arrived at this godforsaken place almost 7 hours ago, I hadn't left this room once. As soon as we came in, Jonathan announced he had a meeting to go to and that I shouldn't leave the room no matter what. And guess what? He hadn't come back since that.
As my stomach growled loudly, I began plotting the many ways I could murder this asshole for doing this to me.
When the clock hit 3:00, I stood up and began marching towards the door.
I never listened to instructions before so what was making me now? I was starving, possibly on the verge of passing out, and the white boy was nowhere to be seen.
I reached out to twist the door handle at the same time it flew open, almost hitting me in the face.
The girl who pushed the door open screamed and dropped the files she was carrying in her arms.
"Who the hell are you?" She asked loudly.
I cringed at her high-pitched voice. "Do you know where Jonathan is?"
"You don't need to know!" She shrieked, "Who are you and what are you doing in Jonathan's office?"
"I-I," I stuttered, unsure of what I was supposed to tell her. Had Jonathan informed them that he had hired me already?
"I-I," She mocked me, "You what? Are you dumb? Can you not speak?"
"Who in the hell are you talking to?" I asked with attitude, finally finding back my voice.
I looked at her from the tip of her ugly brown flats to the short red and brown dress she wore, straight back up to her brown hair. I crossed my arms across my chest, shifted my weight to one foot, and gave her my signature bitchy look.
"I asked you a question."
"You don't know who you're talking to," She replied as she flipped her hair over her shoulder. "I am Stephanie, Mr. Stiller's PA for your information."
I scoffed, "You say that as if it means something."
"It means more than what you're probably doing." She stuck her hip out to one side and placed her dainty hand on it. "What'd he hire you to do – clean the bathrooms? That's the only job you could get working here as a black girl."
"Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?" I bit out.
Several people passing by stopped to stare for a few seconds before continuing on their way like they hadn't seen anything.
"What is going on here?" A voice boomed from farther down the hall. "I don't pay you to linger! I pay you to work, so get to it!"
"Watch this," I whispered with a smirk. She shot me a curious look at the same time a mock-distraught look took over my features.
"Liv, are you alright?" Jonathan asked, immediately by my side.
"Yeah," I replied weakly, "I'm just a little dizzy. I haven't eaten in a while."
"We'll get you some food now, alright?" He announced and I nodded. He then turned to the girl who stood before us and a frown crept onto his face. "How may I help you Stephanie?"
She opened her mouth to reply, but she just looked between dear old Johnny boy and I like she couldn't believe her eyes. Without a word, she turned around and left, leaving the files scattered on the floor.
I bit my inner cheek to try and hide my smile as I bent over and started picking up the files. When I gathered them all and straightened back up, I saw Jonathan turn his head quickly.
I snorted. "I saw you looking, you pervert."
"You're definitely not wearing that skirt ever again outside of the house," He mumbled as he went to go sit down.
I walked over and dropped the files on his desk. "So, I see you haven't told anybody you hired me."
"I don't need to tell anybody what I'm doing." He pressed a button under his desk and his door flew shut.
"Stephanie seems to disagree," I grumbled.
"Stephanie is irrelevant," He shrugged opening his laptop.
"You have the hearing of a dog." I rolled my eyes and smiled at the glare he shot me. My stomach growled loudly and I suddenly remembered there was a lack of food running through my veins.
Not eating for me is like not being able to watch Netflix. Neither is acceptable in my book.
"I think we need to get me some food."
"If I get you food will you shut up?"
I shrugged, "Probably not."
He rolled his eyes, "If only..."
Suddenly, there were loud yells from outside. Something hit Jonathan's glass door, and I saw a body being pressed against it.
Jonathan quickly came and stood in front of me, seeming to be prepared to protect me from whatever came through the door.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing here?" He asked defensively at whoever just entered his office.
"Where's your girlfriend?" The familiar voice asked. "Where is she?"
"What are you doing here?" I asked, emerging from behind Jonathan.
Millie tilted her head to the side. "Have you seen the news?"
"What are you doing here?" I repeated.
That day in the restaurant was supposed to be the last I saw or heard from her. And now she's here, standing before me in Jonathan's office?
"Do you know what you've done?" She barked out. I saw a tear slip out of her eye but she ignored it, waiting for my answer.
"What I've done?" I growled, "I haven't done anything to you."
"You got my uncle's restaurant closed."
"Somebody was bound to get food poisoning," I shrugged, "It was better sooner than later."
"You bitch!" She exclaimed as she charged towards me.
"Watch it," Jonathan growled, stepping in front of me.
Between Jonathan's legs, I saw Millie crumble into a ball and let out a deafening scream.
Jonathan immediately jumped from in front of her, his arms up above his head. "I never touched her!"
Millie was sobbing loudly on the floor, clutching her heart. She kept repeating something over and over under her breath.
"What?"
She sniffled, "I said you killed him."
I took a step back from her in shock. She had really gone mad! I've never even met her uncle and here she was accusing me of murdering him!
"Yesterday after they closed his restaurant down, he went home." She stopped and let out a shaky breath as more tears fell.
"Yes, that is a normal thing to do," I drawled out, making sure she understood what I was saying.
Instead of saying anything, she stayed in her little world, mumbling inaudible words. I waved my hands in front of her face–either she was gonna speak up or she was gonna get the hell out.
"He took his gun out its case, pushed it in his mouth, and pulled the trigger," She finished, hand resting on her stomach as tears flowed out her eyes.
"Wait, wait, wait," I held my hands out in front of me, "Mr. Parker killed himself?"
She nodded although it was clear she was still in her own world.
"Well, I'm sorry to hear that," I began in a low voice, "But that's really not my fault."
"What'd you say?" Her head snapped in my direction, teeth clenched.
"I-"
Before I could finish what I was saying, Millie was on top of me and her fists were connecting to my face.
"Die!" She yelled over and over as she hit my face with blow after blow.