Chapter 4 The Devil's son

{Annabelle}

"You are late, Ms. Dick."

That can't be true. I had been on time, if not earlier.

Yet, I darted my gaze down at the wristwatch I'd bought alongside my heels at the knockoff store downtown. I swear the watch had been the best there. A leather-strapped timepiece with Roman numerals. And unless they'd looked closely, which I hope they wouldn't, it could almost pass for those expensive watches displayed in those fancy stores.

The beauty of the watch might have captivated me, but not enough to distract me from checking if it functions. And it does! In fact, I had set the time using my phone.

So, there's one thing that could be wrong. Who knows, Mr Armstrong's fancy watch might have broken down.

With my chest puffed out, and an effort to hide the smug smile that threatened to take over my lips, I glanced back up at Adrian.

"It's 7:38, Sir."

"And you're thirty-eight minutes late, Ms. Dick."

That can't be so.

"But...but, the general opening time is 8 o'clock. And I think I'm kind of earlier, Sir?"

Adrian sighed, "If you wouldn't even check your own email, I wonder how you'll fair as a secretary, Ms. Dick. Should the company be bothered that you're incompetent?"

"I... I..." I spluttered and scrambled for my phone to check the said email. Even though I'd stayed on my email all through the night. In my excitement, I'd slept reading the "congratulatory" message from AFHs, and woken up to read it again.

I'd even refreshed my page as inhumanely as possible, expecting another message to pop up; this one, explaining how I'd not met their criteria, and that my being hired was just a prank.

However, I did not receive any other emails, not from last night, or this morning. Except when I opened my mail now, two new messages were glaring up at me, both sent around 7:28 am by a recipient named Jessica Walmart of AFH.

When I looked up, Adrian straightened his shoulders, brows shot up, and his eyes narrowed at me as if daring me to complain how he'd expected me to be here at exactly 7 o'clock when I'd only received the message by 7; 28.

I sighed. The bubble of excitement inside me deflated as I tucked my phone back inside my bag.

I had to remind myself that this was not the Adrian who was head over heels with me six years ago, this one most certainly hates my gut that it'd take him nothing to throw my poor incompetent ass out. So, I bit back my complaint.

"I'm sorry," I can't lose this job. "I'll do better."

"Except you're not." Adrian drawled. He massaged his temple, and his shoulders sagged like he'd rather be lying on his bed than spend another second lecturing a complete dumbass.

My own shoulder sagged, and I could feel the corner of my eyes prickled with tears. I'd not spend a day, not even an hour, and I'd already started second-guessing myself.

Perhaps, Mom was right. What could a six-month online program have prepared me for? Except how to work my way around the restaurant as a part-time.

"I am sorry," Lord knew I needed this job. If not for me, but for my baby. "Can...you...if you can just...tell me what...I did wrong."

Adrian's eyes flickered, and a hint of something sparkled within, only to vanish in an instant, leaving in its wake, a jutted jaw, and an intense glare directed at me.

"Your hair," he gritted out. "That file said you're not to let it down. Preferably, in a bun." Well, not so hard. I could do that much and live.

I might have hated having my hair in a bun because it made me look stupid, but I'd hate to lose my job because of it.

I scrambled up my hair, tied it with the rubber on my wrist, and rolled it into a bun.

Adrian's eyes roamed my face, and I'd have sworn I saw the corner of his lips tugged in a smug smile. Good! If he thinks I look hideous, then joke on him. After all, he's the boss, and I am his staff. He bullied his worker– he could jubilate all he wanted. As if that's something to be proud of.

"And I hope you'd be quick-witted enough to know that I need my early morning coffee, Ms. Dick."

"But you don't take coffee this early in the morning."

My stupid mouth had opened up before my brain could shoot it a warning.

My cheeks burned, and the warmth spread up to the tips of my exposed ears.

I saw Adrian's lips lifted in a smirk, and his brows lifted, a bemused look in his brown eyes.

"Don't I? I don't think we're close enough to know such tiny details about me, Ms. Dick."

Oh. Of course, we're not. Until yesterday, we were practically strangers.

When Adrian disappeared into his office, I exhaled deeply, my hand instinctively clutching my chest to reassure myself I was still alive.

I'd never imagined being terrified of Adrian Armstrong. Six years ago, he was nothing but sweet. But of course, what do I expect from someone who's callously discarded me like rubbish?

With a last sigh, I moved over to my table which was right outside his office. And in an instant, the sight of the executive L-shaped desk in white tempered glass was enough to throw Adrian's assholic nature to the back of my mind. I round off behind the desk to run an extricated hand on the high-backed black leather executive chair with adjustable lumbar support.

It was so beautiful I could stare at them all day. In fact, I'd planned to do that if only Adrian hadn't requested for his caffeine.

So, dropping my bag, I went to the vending area for his coffee.

Adrian loves his coffee with no sugar. I'd dated him enough to sleep in his house to know when and how he took his coffee.

He might have changed his usual time to morning, perhaps, being the CEO of a large company must have required him to do so, but there's no way how he loves it could have changed.

However, when Adrian took a sip of the coffee I made, he immediately spilled it out, and his face scrunched up in a frown.

"Really?" His voice was low, icy with venom that sent shivers down my spine. "I'll have you know, Ms. Dick, that if you find reading the profile of your boss sent to you hard, then this job is not for you."

I'd not find it hard to read. But how could I have read it when I'd just received it? It's not fair.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Armstrong. But I just received..."

"I hope to God you know, Ms. Dick, that I don't fancy flimsy excuses in whatever way they might come."

How'd I convinced myself that Adrian hadn't changed that much over the years? He's not only more elegant and handsome. Adrian had lost his boyish charm, and his quirky nature, and leaving in its wake, was a rich bastard and a scornful asshole who could either make me commit homicide and end up in prison or make me stupid and endure his bully like it means nothing.

The former was a no. I'm not wicked like a certain someone to leave my Mimi because I cannot take Adrian's torture. Instead, I reached for the abandoned coffee cup...

"I am sorry, Sir." And apologized. "I'll make another one how you like it."

"No," Adrian threw me a dismissive wave. His eyes darted to the coffee cup in my hand before he locked gaze with me. "I doubt you can get it right, Ms. Dick. And Lord knew I'd hate to have another taste of your horrible coffee today." He shrugged. "If you could just see yourself out, Ms. Dick. I have a very important thing to do."

Okay! I changed my mind. Adrian Armstrong is more than a rich bastard or a scornful asshole. He's more of the devil's son.