Mr Stone, My CEO
img img Mr Stone, My CEO img Chapter 2 1
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Chapter 6 5 img
Chapter 7 6 img
Chapter 8 7 img
Chapter 9 8 img
Chapter 10 9 img
Chapter 11 10 img
Chapter 12 11 img
Chapter 13 12 img
Chapter 14 13 img
Chapter 15 14 img
Chapter 16 15 img
Chapter 17 16 img
Chapter 18 17 img
Chapter 19 18 img
Chapter 20 19 img
Chapter 21 20 img
Chapter 22 21 img
Chapter 23 22 img
Chapter 24 23 img
Chapter 25 24 img
Chapter 26 25 img
Chapter 27 26 img
Chapter 28 27 img
Chapter 29 28 img
Chapter 30 29 img
Chapter 31 30 img
Chapter 32 31 img
Chapter 33 32 img
Chapter 34 33 img
Chapter 35 34 img
Chapter 36 35 img
Chapter 37 36 img
Chapter 38 37 img
Chapter 39 38 img
Chapter 40 39 img
Chapter 41 40 img
Chapter 42 41 img
Chapter 43 42 img
Chapter 44 43 img
Chapter 45 44 img
Chapter 46 45 img
Chapter 47 46 img
Chapter 48 47 img
Chapter 49 48 img
Chapter 50 49 img
Chapter 51 50 img
Chapter 52 51 img
Chapter 53 52 img
Chapter 54 53 img
Chapter 55 54 img
Chapter 56 55 img
Chapter 57 56 img
Chapter 58 57 img
Chapter 59 58 img
Chapter 60 59 img
Chapter 61 60 img
Chapter 62 61 img
Chapter 63 62 img
Chapter 64 63 img
Chapter 65 64 img
Chapter 66 65 img
Chapter 67 66 img
Chapter 68 67 img
Chapter 69 68 img
Chapter 70 69 img
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Chapter 2 1

Today we were going to look round Stone Marketing. This was a pretty big deal. Stone Marketing was the most successful marketing company in London, and they looked after all the main contracts in the city.

I had no idea what I was going to wear. My fellow students often turned up to class in formal business attire, including pencil skirts and shirts for the girls and perfectly ironed suits for the boys. Most of my peers were from families with money though, and often had grown up in London. I was a bit different. I came from a small sea-side town in Devon. My uniform was jeans and hoodies. I certainly didn't have enough money to buy expensive clothes just for going to uni.

In the end I picked out the smartest pair of jeans I had. Deep blue boot-cut ones with a high waist. I was desperate to put a large dark grey hoodie over the top in order to hide my figure, but I knew I couldn't get away with that in such an expensive environment. I forced myself to put on a white t-shirt I never wore, and the black blazer my mum had bought me before I left. As for shoes well...the choice was converse or Doc Martens. I went for the Doc Martens.

My dark hair was eternally a mess of curls that never wanted to conform with my attempts to tame it, so I scraped it back into my usual pony tail to keep it out of my face. I wasn't really a make-up girl, only opting for a couple of swipes of my £1 mascara.

Checking my reflection was the last thing I wanted to do, but I had to check today. I glanced as quickly as possible, shuddering at the dumpy silhouette that appeared in the dirty mirror. I sighed heavily, and grabbed my back-pack and headed out of my room.

I lived in the cheapest university halls going. Although as it was London, it was still damn expensive. After rent and books, I usually had very little student loan left over. To make matters worse, my room was tiny. There was only enough space for a single bed and a chest of draws. I had to share a kitchen and bathroom with four other people. It sucked. I reminded myself I had chosen to come to London. Although now I was here, I wasn't sure why.

I made my way through the busy streets down to the tube station, making sure I didn't bump into any of the bustling commuters. Thankfully I didn't need to change tubes, as I was on the right line for the infamous Canary Wharf.

I'd been to look around Canary Wharf a few times, but I had to admit, I was excited to see what was inside one of those tall glass buildings. Checking the directions on my phone, I soon arrived outside the huge impressive building. It was spring, and the morning light made the glass panes sparkle with promise.

I spotted some other students from my course, and begrudgingly made my way over. One of the girls, Emma, spotted me and whispered something to one of the others. I watched them smirk and knew it would have been nothing good. Probably some comment about what I was wearing. They were of course, flawlessly dressed. Emma herself was wearing a soft pink blazer with a form fitting cream dress underneath that showed off her tiny waist. Her honey-coloured hair was perfectly quaffed into a high bun, and her make-up looked like it had been done by a professional artist. Nude heels adorned her feet and a designer handbag rested on her left shoulder.

I couldn't be more opposite if I tried.

I hung at the back of the group while the rest of the students chatted excitedly together.

Our professor, Neil, appeared at the front of the group. "Right guys, I know I shouldn't have to tell you, but remember. This is a big deal to be allowed inside here, so I want 100% professionalism and respect. I don't need to remind you that if you make a good impression here, you may be lucky enough to offered their internship." He cast his eyes round the group, his gaze briefly landing on me. A brief flicker of disapproval crossed his face, but it was gone as soon as it appeared.

Neil ushered us into the building. The whole space was decorated with black and white monochrome. There was no doubt it looked sleek, but I also thought it felt a little cold. I reflected this probably suited its name, Stone Marketing.

A woman was waiting for us in the lobby. It turned out she looked even more immaculate than Emma. Something I never thought possible. She flashed us a wide smile, and I felt I needed sunglasses to shield my eyes from her whiter than white teeth.

"Welcome students." Her voice was a little robotic. Like the automated ones you got when you phoned your energy supplier. "My name is Melissa. I'm a manager in the communications department, and it is my pleasure to show you around today."

Despite the computerised voice, she was a stunning woman. I could see the boys nudging each other and winking. Not exactly the professionalism or respect Neil had asked for.

We began our tour around some of the offices where the admin worked. It was pretty average, but I knew she would be building up. Then we were led to the social media department. That was definitely a notch up. They had large screens on all the walls with various platforms such as Facebook, Instagram and Twitter. Each showed how many interactions, comments and 'likes' the content was receiving.

Next, was the mock up space. The room was completely white, including all the furniture. This had examples of new ads they'd created for various different companies. The white made sense now, it was so each piece of work could be looked at on a blank canvas.

Some of the ads were in paper. Others were projected onto the wall, clearly being produced for a digital format.

"Please feel free to take a look around," Melissa called out to us.

Most of it was unfinished work, but I was fascinated to see the process behind each campaign. Most of them looked incredible, and I noted the number of well-known companies that were featured. But then, something caught my eye. It was an ad for Blast sports drinks. Blast was a big name within the gym scene, often marketed to serious athletes and body-builders. But this ad...well it looked childish. The lettering was almost bubbly in appearance, and the pastel colours just didn't seem to fit.

I called over to Melissa.

She glided over to me like a swan on a lake. "Yes...?"

"Rosie." I provided for her.

She gave me a postcard smile. "How can I help?"

I suddenly felt a little awkward. Why on earth had I put myself in this position? I started to stammer a little. "I just...well...I mean...isn't this a sports drinks company?"

A flash of amusement crossed her face. "Yes, that's right."

I bit my lip. Now I was here, I had to explain otherwise I'd look even more stupid.

"Don't you think it's a bit...well...childish? They're meant to be a serious company, aren't they?"

By this point a few of my fellow students had begun to crowd around me. Clearly interested in how I was showing them up today.

The woman fort back to conceal a laugh. "Blast wished to go in a new direction. They want to appeal to gym novices as well as the serious types...but I will pass on your very astute comments to the departments manager."

At this, those around us listening started to snigger. Even Neil looked like he wanted to put his head in his hands. My cheeks flushed. I really should have kept my mouth shut.

Just then, a deep powerful voice sounded from the back of the crowd. "See that you do pass on those comments, Melissa. I think the girl has a valid point."

I turned to the source of the voice. Wow. Standing with a serious expression was a tall muscular man in his early 30's. His dark hair and eyes made him look mysterious. Even a little dangerous. His sharp jaw line was covered in dark stubble. The charcoal suit he was wearing looked crazy expensive, and I wondered what he did here to earn that kind of money.

Melissa's face had paled a little, even through her perfect tan. "Yes Sir. Of course, Sir. I'll do that right away." Her calm exterior vanished as she scurried off.

The man's eyes followed her for a second, and then to my discomfort, they snapped to me. I hurriedly looked away. I could barely hold eye contact with any man, let alone one as good looking as this.

He strode his way towards me, the crowd parting like the sea for Moses. Moments later, he was in front of me.

"What is your name?" I could not read his expression.

I did my best to look unintimidated, but my voice was quiet. "Rosie. Rosie Woods."

"And you are a student at the University of London?"

I nodded. "Yes. My first year."

He furrowed his brow. "Hmm." There was an edge of disappointment in his voice, and he began to walk away. Then he paused and turned his head to the side slightly. "Come to my office tomorrow morning. 8am. Don't be late."

My heart leapt. Could this be the internship? Suddenly, I realised something. I called out hurriedly. "Excuse me sir, I apologise, but I don't know your name?"

Audible gasps and whispers shot up from my group. Now, even Neil did not resist shaking his head in disbelief. What had I done wrong?

The man turned, a smirk upon his face. The first change in expression I'd seen since our encounter had started.

"My name is Ezra Stone. I am the CEO of this company."

Oh fuck.

            
            

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