Chapter 2 Bullied by the Boss

Two weeks passed. Two weeks of grinding her teeth and biting her tongue to deal with the superior Chase Ward. Christine doubted if she would be able to keep from strangling him.

Speak of the Devil...

"Morrison! Did I, or did I not give you a template for writing these legal briefs?" Chase Ward bent his considerable lengthy frame forward over Christine's desk to push his face up to hers. His elegant fingers were splayed over the surface of the desktop to support his weight.

"You did, Mr. Ward." She calmly looked back into the steely grey eyes in front of her.

"Then why, for the love of God, did you change it?" he snarled at her, demanding explanation.

"I thought it needed to be updated. The style seemed stilted and wordy." Christine said and meant it.

Chase's face went scarlet. He hoisted himself off the desk, taking in a deep breath, pulled his black silk tie straight and stormed back to his office.

Christine sat frozen to her seat. Silently counting to ten in her head, she reached six when the light on her intercom went off.

"Yes, Mr. Ward?" she asked, trying to keep her voice level. Thank goodness she took her anti-anxiety medication this morning, she thought. Traffic was murderous in the morning, and the Lyft drivers were aggressive. As was her pissed-off boss at the moment.

"My office. Now." His voice had a dangerous edge to it which made her stomach churn as if a thousand butterflies lived there.

Christine found him, drink in hand, standing in front of the massive, tinted window. Whether he was admiring the Empire State building or just staring aimlessly, Christine wouldn't wager a guess.

"Mr. Ward?" she managed to say after clearing her throat.

He turned around slowly, sipping at the contents of the glass. He studied her for a moment that felt like hours to her. She shifted uncomfortably on her stilettos.

"Just tell me, Morrison, are you a qualified paralegal or are you a secretary to this firm?" Chase's soft tone belied his chagrin. "If I understand your resume to be correct, you have not yet obtained your diploma or degree. Am I right?"

Christine swallowed down her irritation. Why did he find it necessary to belittle her when all he could do was just to tell her to fix it like he wanted it? But no, he liked to see her cringe. Why she couldn't begin to understand.

Folding her arms around her waist, she raised her eyes to meet his direct stare. A small smile played around his mouth as he watched her passive defiant stance. She certainly was no coward, he thought. Those cobalt blue eyes of hers sent daggers to his.

"I understand, Mr. Ward. I am your secretary. I should have spoken to you first. I apologize." Christine's nails dug into the soft flesh of her forearm. As much as he was right, he still didn't need to rub it in her face like that.

He motioned for her to take a seat on one of the chairs in front of his desk. He leaned his buttocks on the edge of the large mahogany desk, watching her. Christine turned her head away to look anywhere else but at Chase.

He was close. Too close to her. She inhaled his manly aftershave, which had a citrusy undertone that she found she liked maybe a little too much. Her heart was doing crazy things inside her chest, and she hated that he aroused these weird feelings in her. Ugh! He made her feel like a schoolgirl with a crush on her teacher. Damn him!

"Well, now that we're on the same page, Miss Morrison," he placed special emphasis on the word 'miss' which made a slight frown appear on Christine's flawless face and a smirk on Chase's. "I would like you to change the template back the way it was originally. Be it stilted or whatever, I don't give a fuck."

Christine rose out of the chair to leave, but Chase's hand on her shoulder stopped her. Wide-eyed she looked from his hand to his face. He removed his hand abruptly.

"No, sit. You will do it on your own time. After hours." He said, narrowing his eyes at her.

So, this is how he planned on punishing her, the bastard. It was a Friday, and she had plans to go out with some of her friends.

"Will you be paying me overtime, Mr. Ward?" she couldn't help the acid tone in her voice.

He chuckled darkly, "Don't push it, Morrison." His eyes roved over her body. He tilted his head to one side. Chase loved to see the angry way she pinched those luscious lips of hers in a thin line. She positively bristled with anger like a cornered kitten.

Casually he wondered how passionate she would be in bed. His bed to be precise. He shook his head to get that thought out of his head. She was off limits. Besides, he was through with complications and gold-digging women.

"Why did you want to study law, a girl like you, Morrison?" he asked quietly.

"A girl like me?" Christine spat out. She didn't like his tone one bit. What the hell was he implying?

Chase removed himself from the desk, putting distance between them. "Yeah, I mean what motivated you? And why didn't you finish your studies?" His father wouldn't give him any personal details about Christine. It intrigued him that Alexander would be so secretive about her.

"I fail to see the relevance, your Honor." Christine mocked him, getting up to leave his office.

Chase laughed. "I'm not interrogating you, Morrison. I'm just curious."

Christine speared him with her gaze. "I couldn't afford to complete my studies. I had other pressing obligations."

"I see." Chase said, "Strange you hadn't snagged yourself a rich man at Harvard, like most girls do."

He might as well have slapped her the way his words shocked her. But she gathered herself immediately, squaring her shoulders as she regarded him coldly.

"I am not most girls, Mr. Ward, now excuse me, I have work to do." She slammed the door behind her so hard, one of his framed certificates fell off the wall, landing on the plush carpet.

Chase bent to pick it up. He chuckled. He could use an assistant like her. She seemed to be able to handle herself under pressure. She was much too smart to be a mere secretary. Chase made a note to speak to Alexander about giving her on-the-job training, something he never thought he would do.

***

"Hey, hey, Ms. Morrison! Wait up." Mason Pritchard called out to Christine about to take the elevator.

Surprised, she turned around to watch the tawny-haired man approaching her. Grinning boyishly, his grey jacket over one arm, his briefcase in the other hand he rushed to her side.

"Can I help you with something, Mr. Pritchard." Christine smiled politely at him.

"Glad I caught you, Darlin'." He pushed the button to call the elevator, leaning slightly over her. "I'm dying for a drink, but I hate to go alone. Fancy getting one with me?"

"I..." Christine was about to refuse. She didn't want the office gossips to get the wrong idea. It was bad enough as it were in the break room with some of the females giving her the stink-eye. Rumor had it a lot of them had their hearts set on a position with Chase Ward.

Christine didn't think the position they were after had anything to do with being his secretary. She'd seen the way they eye-fucked him when he made an appearance. Not that he did it that often. No, he was quite content having her fetch his meals and whatever he wanted, like she was his personal slave.

"Oh, c'mon. Just one, teensy drink." He pleaded, making puppy eyes at her. "I had a bad day and could use a pretty lady's company."

Honestly, he was attractive and much more easy-going than some people she knew. But she wanted to spend some time with her girl friends and had already promised them a night out.

Just then Chase came out of his office to lock up. He stood like a statue in front of the door, the keys rattling in his hand. Christine saw him and noticed the dark look crossing Chase's features as he watched Mason leaning towards her, his hand resting against the wall by her head.

Feeling vindictive, Christine decided to say yes. Screw Chase Ward, this was her time. Her private life was her own. He didn't own her, nobody did.

"I would love to, Mr. Pritchard." She said, her eyes on Chase.