Beneath The Suit: The CEO's Dark Secrets

With a sad expression on his face, my accountant told me, "I'm afraid that's the only solution."

He gave me the most shocking news of my life when we were seated in my office.

"Not at all. I yelled back, "I don't think that's the only option.

I was experiencing my worst nightmare. It seems that my father, the CEO of Harrington Industries, had been struggling financially for some time because of his gambling addiction. Although I've always known he gambles, I had no idea it was so severe that it would require the buyout of our entire business.

It would be an understatement to say that I'm embarrassed and furious. Naturally, even in his grave, my now-deceased father had to leave me to clean up his mess.

"I apologize, but this is the only approach," my accountant said, interrupting my flow of thought.

I squeezed the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes. "Who's the buyer?"

"Ashford Industries."

My eyes snapped open at once. "Over my dead fucking body."

My dad had worked so hard to build this company, and there was no way in heaven or earth that I would let our competitor buy it out.

If I let this agreement go through, all the evenings I spent at home by myself when I was younger, all the school functions dad skipped because of this blasted firm, and missing my high school and college graduations would have all been for fucking nothing.

My father and I have always been in the picture; my mother passed away after I was born.

He was not around when I spent my whole life growing this business. Even though I detest him for not being the parent I always needed and wanted, I had to make sure that I carried on my father's legacy-albeit one that was better-because I owed it to my younger self.

I'm afraid Miss Harrington, you're stuck with no other option. You will become Ashford Industries' new secretary after they buy you out. That's the best I could have done, I apologize. He said, "Your father dug a bottomless hole that even I can't get you out of," as he started arranging papers in front of me.

I slammed my fists on the desk and spat, "I would rather work at McFuckingDonalds before I work for that narcissistic bastard."

My accountant recoiled and straightened his round glasses. "The documents I placed in front of you state that you agree to Ashford Industries buying you out, and if you work with them for two years as their secretary, they will issue a loan for you to be able to build Harrington Industries back up again."

That drew my interest. "So if I work for him for two years, I'm one hundred percent guaranteed that loan?" I inquired slowly.

He gave a nod. "That's correct."

I've always struggled to swallow my pride because I'm such a self-assured and strong-willed person. However, I can tell when I've been beaten-like in this instance, for instance-when it happens.

My father's job can be completed and my company can be bought back if I work for Crap Industries for the next two years. I'm ready to endure it for the sake of my sanity, even though getting relegated to a secretary will probably be worse than breaking up. Should I turn this opportunity down and allow Harrington Industries to be acquired indefinitely, I would never be able to live with myself.

"Where do I sign?" With a defeated tone, I inquired.

With a smile, my accountant gestured to multiple lines on the paperwork that were in front of me.

"Ashford Industries expects you to report to work tomorrow at precisely 6 AM; an employee will be available to provide you with additional information. "Remain optimistic about this company; you will overcome this obstacle," he remarked softly while gathering the signed paperwork and packing it in his briefcase.

I escorted him out of my office with a tiny grin on my face and thanked him for his good remarks. I groaned and leaned my head against the door, wondering what in the world had just transpired. It still amazes me that I essentially gave up my life for the next two years.

My new world will start tomorrow, and I wouldn't be telling the truth if I didn't feel nervous. This will be the biggest adjustment of my life, and I've always dreaded change. Nevertheless, I'm going to keep my half of the bargain and do whatever it takes to get my company back, even if it means giving the devil my life.

--

I woke up to the sound of my alarm booming in my ears after a very sleepless night. I turned it off idly, looked up at the ceiling, and thought about life before stumbling out of bed. I had plenty of time to get ready for the incredibly long day I was about to face-it was 4:30 AM.

I changed out of my pajamas as soon as I entered my black marble-decorated bathroom and turned on the shower.

While I was shampooing my hair, I imagined all the wonderful things that may happen. Or perhaps the work isn't all that horrible? The devil was never truly seen by anyone; although he maintained a low profile, it was never sufficiently low, since we all knew exactly which whore he was fucking each week, owing to the media.

But what if the situation holds at work as well? He was playing it low-key and all. What if I could see him no more for the next two years, till my contract expires?

My cheeks lit up at the mere thought of that. Perhaps this will not be a horrible deal after all. And before I know it, I'll be back in business the way my father always wanted.

After taking a brief shower, I hurried to my walk-in wardrobe to choose an outfit. I need something that is professional and smart because I'll be the first person people see when they arrive at the company as a secretary. If I'm being totally honest with myself, though, I don't care what I wear-the mere idea of being in Crap Industries alone makes me want to hurl.

But I'm going to play the part I was assigned for the benefit of my company, so I went with an all-black, off-the-shoulder midi dress that pushed my breasts up just enough and hugged my curvaceous body in all the right places.

I quickly put on the dress, blew out my curly brown hair that was falling down my caramel shoulders, moisturized, and brushed it all in. I then applied concealer under my chestnut brown eyes, a dab of red blush to my cheeks, and a tiny bit of clear lip gloss to highlight the tips of my nose and cheekbones. Since I'm not a huge fan of makeup, I prefer to wear very little of it.

I looked at my phone and saw that it was 5:40 AM, which meant that I hadn't had breakfast yet and had already wasted an hour.

I snatched up my bag, threw on my transparent heels, and dashed from my room. Given that Crap Industries is at least a fifteen-minute drive away and that I would almost certainly be stopped in traffic due to my Californian residency, there was no way I could eat breakfast right now.

I wasted no more time in running to my penthouse elevator and stabbing the lobby button many times. Even though I hated the job, I could not be late for my first day of work.

Moving through the dimly lighted parking garage, I eventually located my black AMG G-63 and headed out.

Even though my dad's gambling addiction destroyed our company, I always made it a habit to invest the money I made into stocks, real estate, and franchises so I would always have a source of income, even if something happened to Harrington Industries. As a result, I can afford the lifestyle I lead.

I always had backup plans because I had a sneaking suspicion that my father would ruin the one thing he ever did well in life.

It was just my fucking luck that the thirty-minute commute took me exactly ten minutes later than expected for my first day of work. I hurried out in the direction of the door after parking in the staff lot.

One of the biggest structures in all of California is Crap Industries. See-through glass windows cover about 100 stories in height (see the picture above). The massive edifice was visually stunning due to its beautiful structure.

As I stepped through the enormous glass double doors, a woman in a brilliant blue skin-tight dress and an angry expression met me. I would swear I wandered into a strip club if I didn't know where I was. Her ass barely covered her dress, and her face was so cakey I could cut right through it with a knife. Her cleavage poured out of it. Her emerald green eyes glared at me through her wavy blonde hair that fell just below her waist.

"You're late." She crossed her arms over her chest and gave me a disdainful look as she spoke in a high-pitched, unpleasant voice.

I shrugged and rolled my eyes. "Traffic."

"Look, we don't have much time before Boss comes, so follow me."

Head of State? Is that what everyone is calling this bastard? As Miss Angry Whore ushered me through another set of glass double doors and out into the brightly illuminated foyer, I thought. It just takes one stone to topple this whole glass skyscraper, so I hope no one is ever fired.

"This is Floor 1," she said, pointing to the open area where a number of busy-looking individuals were crammed into little cubicles and busily tapping away at computers. "The Data Entry Floor."

She kept guiding me through the structure and explaining what was on each floor. God knows I have an appetite like a hippo, so all I need to know is where the cafeteria is.

"And you'll be on Floor 30, the Bosses floor." With a sour tone, Miss Angry Whore declared.

"Wait, I thought I would be working on Floor 1 at the front desk," I spoke out, my face betraying confusion.

As we exited the elevator that took us to the floor I was ostensibly working on, she rolled her eyes. There were only six unoccupied cubicles on the enormous floor, three on each side. A pleasant-sized office might be found through the light brown modern wood door to the far right, while Sebastian Ashford's office may be found through the enormous black double doors on the exact opposite side.

She hissed, "No, you're his secretary," and then gave me my new key card and a folder stuffed with paperwork. "Not the entire company's secretary."

"Excuse me, what?" I gave up.

--

She rolled her eyes and repeated, "You're his secretary," in an irritated manner. "Now, excuse me while I head out. The boss should be here at 8:00, so make sure you get back by 7:30. Then, he will offer you more instructions." She walked out of my sight, snapping at me.

His assistant? HER administrative assistant? Had my accountant informed me that I would be serving as his secretary, I would never have accepted this appalling job offer and would have found another means to turn my business around. Not only did I lose my position as my own fucking boss, but for the next two years I will be working directly for the fucking devil himself. This is absolutely a personal hell hole for me.

I went over to my new office and took a look around as soon as I heard the elevator ding to let me know she was gone. At least I had something to look forward to when I entered this purgatory because there was a huge window behind my black writing desk that overlooked the entire city. After setting the document folder next to my computer on my desk, I glanced at the enormous clock over my door and saw that it was 7:15-that is, I had fifteen minutes to drink coffee before this miserable day began.

I proceeded towards the lift and punched the cafeteria's button, which was number twenty. The smell of pastries and coffee hit my nose like a truck as soon as I got off.

There was ample space for two hundred persons in the enormous café. Tall glass windows set into each wall offered a different perspective of the city. The first floor was filled with long white tables set up for staff to eat at. Every nook of the second floor was filled with pastry shops and fast-food establishments. Signs pointing me in the direction of their own Starbucks on the second floor were strewn all over the tan walls.

"Greetings! For you, what can I get?" As soon as I got in, the welcoming barista asked, beaming broadly.

With a brief check at the menu above, I returned the smile. "Hi, I'd like one Vanilla Sweet Cream Cold Brew to go, please."

I paid him, thanked him, and virtually raced out of the store, quietly praying Sebastian wouldn't even turn up, once he finished with my drink. Naturally, though, being the awkward person that I am, I stumbled over my foot and fell hard in the direction of someone else. I prepared myself for impact, but it did not materialize. Robust tan arms encircled my waist and hauled me back up. Fortunately, there was no spillage of my coffee.

"Whoa, where's the fire?" A deep voice enquired.

Penetrating hazel eyes stared down at me when I looked up. The stranger steadied me with his massive hands, his lean frame towering over mine.

"Are you okay?" His attractive face was stretched with concern as he asked.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry I wasn't watching where I was going." Frantically, I started to explain.

His symmetric nose and square jawline complemented each other as he laughed softly, displaying little dimples in his cheeks. During our blunder, a few strands of his chocolate-brown hair accidentally fell into his stunning eyes. He swept the strands back into place with a swift motion of his huge palm through it.

"It's alright, no harm done." He gave me a radiant smile of assurance.

Nervously, I tucked a few strands of hair behind my ear and assured myself that the next time, I'll make sure to monitor where I go. After witnessing my three-year boyfriend fucking my eight-year best friend in the back of his car after my father's funeral last year, I haven't really spoken to men. After that, I made a vow to never date again and to concentrate only on my work. It would be an understatement to say that I have serious trust issues now, which is why I haven't had a partner or any friends since.

"I'll hold you to that." With a gesture of his hand toward me, he said. "I'm Carter, by the way, and you are?"

"Elara, but I go by Ela." I shook his big, gentle hand in response, and looked briefly at the enormous clock on the wall behind him that read 7:25, meaning there were five minutes remaining.

He grinned as he saw how nervous I was. "Well, I won't keep you any longer; it was nice meeting you, Ela."

"You too!" I shot back, shoving past him and heading back into the lift.

I ran my free hand through my hair and smoothed it out on the ride up. I sincerely hope that I didn't appear insane in front of that attractive stranger. Not even my legs could be melted by his smile. Regretfully, I'm not looking for a relationship right now, but if I were, Mr. Carter would be first on my list.

I took a long breath and braced myself mentally as the elevator doors slid open, showing the not so empty floor, shaking my brain to forget what had just happened. All the employees had moved into their cubicles except for one.

Before I went, where the heck was everyone? I thought to myself as I hurried to my office, finished my iced coffee, and picked up the folder Miss Whore had given me. I then went to the black double doors that led to Sebastian's office.

Without bothering to knock, I pulled the massive doors open, hoping in silence that he wasn't within. There was nothing I could have done to prepare myself for what was going to come out of his mouth.

"Didn't anyone teach you never to keep a man waiting?" As I entered the dimly lighted room, I heard a gruff voice-the unique voice of Sebastian Ashford-growl.

There was a contemporary feel to his spacious workspace (see photo above). On the other side from his desk were two wide white office chairs and a little square oak coffee table. The walls were adorned with trophies, medals, and numerous other prizes that he had won over the years, all in shades of brown and tan. I reasoned that the only prize he deserved to receive was for having the most sex with women.

He started to unhook his zipper and said, "Just shut up and come put my dick in your mouth," without taking his eyes off his computer.

I stopped mid-step as I approached his desk.

What? The eternal fuck? ----