Chapter 4 Employ, Employer

Samy Anderson

Her pale, fear-filled face delights me enormously. Her hands are shaking, and she nervously plays with her fingers while rubbing her legs.

"So, Naomi," I said, getting up from my seat to get closer to her. My presence unsettles her, and it makes me feel so good. "I'm the boss," I continued, of this department you're applying for, not to mention the entire company.

"I... I'm sorry," she said, her eyes pointed at the floor, avoiding my gaze.

She's sorry, really, I don't think so. That pair of slaps hasn't left my mind since that day, and she even dared to do it because I called her a low-class girl, so I don't think she's truly sorry.

"You're sorry for what exactly?" I asked her. And to tease her a little, I'll add, as far as I know, you haven't done anything to me, and this is the first time we've seen each other.

She raises her head abruptly, her face showing surprise.

"Besides," I continue, "sit down so we can discuss your skills."

With difficulty, she moves her feet and then takes a seat opposite me.

"Sir, I don't know what game you're playing, but I really want to apologize for the slap I slapped you the other day on the road. I crossed the line, and I'm truly sorry."

With a coldness that doesn't speak its name, I ignore her words and focus on what matters.

"I read in your file that you did an internship for several months at a neighboring company. My question is this: Why didn't they hire you right after your internship?"

My indifference arouses her concerns, but she just frowns.

"I'm still waiting, Miss Naomi," I tell her, bringing her back to reality. "Have you lost your tongue? Sorry if I'm using informal "you," if you find anything wrong with that, you can tell me.

" Ignoring my question, she puts on a relaxed expression and then replies, "Sir, after my internship, the company already had enough employees in this department, and they didn't want to hire any more." "I see. Here, we're open to anyone looking for a job, so Miss Peterson, I welcome you to our company and hope you'll be worthy of this opportunity I'm offering you. You'll be put on trial and under the supervision of my secretary."

"That easily?" she asks.

"You don't want this job anymore?"

"Yes, but...."

"No buts when you know what you want in life, and especially if you don't want to make your situation an end in itself."

Her eyes widen because I had just reminded her of the words she said that day, but in a different way. I intend to have fun with her.

_So, what are the working hours?

I lean back comfortably in my chair, pen in hand, legs crossed, and my eyes fixed on hers.

_All employees must be at the company by 8:00 a.m. without delay. The premises close at 6:00 p.m., and the base salary is 200,000.

At least that will get her out of the hovel she lives in. Her face lights up at the sound of that amount. What was I saying? If she weren't a low-class girl, such an amount wouldn't mean anything to her. Trying to hide her joy with a neutral expression, she continues.

_May I be gone?

Wait, who does this little woman think she is? I'm the employer here, and I'm the one who decides whether we're done or not, but this young lady has the nerve to ask such a question when she's in no position to demand anything. I control my growing anger and then answer her in these terms.

"Are you my boss or am I your boss?"

"It's you," she says in her little voice.

"So which of us should decide how this interview ends?"

"You."

"Well, I don't tolerate bad language. Now we need your ID card for registration in our records, and you also need a bank card because your salary is directly transferred to a bank account at the end of the month."

Stress immediately takes over her at the end of my sentence.

"Do you have a problem with that?" I ask.

"By the way, it's... it's...."

She struggles to form a sentence and shifts in her seat.

_ Yes, I'm listening.

_ My things were stolen, and it won't be until two weeks before I can get another ID card and collect my papers. As for the bank card, I don't have enough money to do it.

This girl is the very image of poverty, but she still has time to cultivate arrogance. Luckily, this bank card is provided by the company.

_ It's not a problem, you can start work while your card is ready, and as for the bank card, the company will provide you with one after opening your account.

She relaxes and then smiles at me, a smile I return, but with hypocrisy.

_ Now you're free. It's Thursday today, so you start Monday morning.

_ Thank you very much, sir.

She stands up, and I take the time to observe her. She's beautiful, with fair complexion, long brown hair, pink lips, brown eyes, and a decent figure. Not very slender, not very short either, a nice backside, and small bumps on her chest. Without going overboard, she's perfect. It's the sound of the door that pulls me out of my thoughts and brings me back to reality. We'll see if she'll still have her arrogance in a few days.

My phone rings, and I see the name "father" written on it. This man is making me uncomfortable just by calling. I answer, and his voice is heard.

"Come home right away, I need to see you."

Click!

He had just disconnected the call. Taking my car key, I close my computer and then go to the parking lot to get my car and start it. For the past few days, I've been avoiding all contact with him because he made my life hell during my childhood. The car stops in front of my father's large villa. I go out and enter the large living room, but he's not there. I start by calling his name, and that's when a maid comes to tell me that he's waiting for me in his room. I climb the stairs, one by one, until I reach the hallway leading to the bedrooms. To my right, his door was slightly ajar. My heart is beating wildly, thinking back to what happened a few years ago. I knock and he invites me in.

Sitting on his bed, a towel around his waist and a tank top covering his chest, he smiles at me.

_ I've been waiting for you, Sam, you've been so long. "What do you want from me, Dad? If you still deserve to be called that."

"Control your words, Sam. After all, I'm your father."

"My father, and that's it. You can't call yourself my father when you didn't play that role."

"Stop talking so much and come to me. I need to vent."

"I'm not your empty balls," I said, my tears threatening to flow.

"A strong man doesn't cry, but when I think about everything I've been through because of this man in front of me, I just want to cry. Feelings that took me so many years to repress resurface.

"Yet you liked what I was doing to you."

"I didn't like anything at all, you... you don't know what I went through, and Mom's death was the last straw." I had to keep Amanda away from you to protect her. Today, she's a fulfilled young woman who doesn't suffer from the after-effects like me. At least I spared her the pain you put me through all these years. You're a monster, Nicolas Anderson.

"I won't allow you," he said, standing up.

"Today, I can defend myself against you, so your threats mean nothing to me. This is the last time you'll call me about such nonsense."

I rush out of this room and go home.