Secretary Covert Passion

Chapter one

It all started when I saw his face on the news. I realized a small feeling developed. They say people are greedy. There is no fire like passion, there is no shark like hatred, there is no snare like folly, there is no torrent like greed... And I am one of them. I become impatient and additive to his beauty. I want this person to be mine. I am talking to Xander Blake, a son of the well known Blake family.

But to be with him is like touching a star. It's almost impossible.

His house is rich while my mum and I are struggling every single day.

My father died when I was five, the reason our life has become miserable. My mum did a great job of taking care of me as a single mother. Her heart is still bloody and raw from his demise. I had a relationship with him. I must be honest, I miss my dad.

I know all the basic information about him, everything, even the name of his current girlfriend.

I heaved a sigh, an imaginary heart consuming me, leaving me in goosebumps.

"Don't Leslie," I mumbled to myself.

Even though we have nothing in common, he lives a porch life, signed several modelling contracts, and manages the largest business that's expanding. I'd say this is his fifteenth-time award since this year. I've dedicated a lot of time to check him out. My crush on him is super immense to blurt.

It could be traced back to when I met him at a concert that was held in the lobby. He was dressed in a suit, of course, a black suit that suits his oval face and that described his cold personality. I would say? I was turning eighteen that month. He came with the bands that performed. I realized he wanted to be an artist instead of modelling.

But years later my feelings for him naturally diminished over the years because I had this inferiority complex. Plus the things his mother always looked down on us, especially my mother, she doesn't know how to acknowledge her employees' efforts.

So Arrogant!

However, today is going to be a big turnout for me and everyone. As I set foot in the Blake company. Dreams do come true. After hundreds of applications, I'm being sarcastic. It's the fourth, and it turns out it's not only capable of achieving my dreams but connecting and bridging the different worlds.

Imagine being overwhelmed with joy, and nervous as I stepped out of the zebra printed cab, rushed through the entrance, and dashed through the open doors, my arms were loaded with files, and it was not possible to do the right-hand etiquette. It probably wasn't the right thing to rush, since everyone was at odds, which could make for an awkward elevator ride. My arms ached and I didn't want to wait, time was one of my weaknesses at the moment.

The elevator door glides shut slowly as ever but the people who worked at Coastal company weren't the type to rush.

"What floor?" The man on my right asked.

I shifted my burden and managed to slip the files inside my bag. "Fourth. Thanks."

Almost everyone seems to be there upon the email received last week. I took the company's annual interview. First time in the last four years of my simultaneous application, I was finally eligible for the screening. I let out a deep breath, calming my impulses.

You've got this.

My eyes land on posters with positive messages regarding this year's general secretary selection hanging on the walls. I prayed intrinsically to be selected. It's my biggest dream. I was hoping to be selected because costs of living are becoming high and we have pending bills to pay. My mum originally wanted me to work at the embassy. My mother, Diana, will soon retire, without insurance. I mean, what are we going to survive on? I've never been this obsessed with a job.

I sat with my colleagues in the queue waiting for the interview department as they gave points down to your dress code, regardless of whether it was a designer. I felt left out, although my bachelor's degree was from a public university, not competent enough for this high ranked industry, that's my mother's sweat and I'm proud of it. Only if I were given a chance to defend myself would I prove how resilient I am. It was in international relations I had my bachelor's degree. I saw people more desperate than me. Some entered with a powerful aura but came out down spirited, and vice versa. It is my turn. Now my heart wants to jump like a kangaroo.

To my greatest surprise, as I entered for the interview, my eyes met those of the vivacious young aIn-person-person he was twenty-seven seven. I guessed. His eyes separated in-game with a cold aura, Like, what the fuck? I've read every single detail about him, and it doesn't seem to be his department. "What is he doing here?" I questioned. I tried not to look at him, but his seductive eyes tempted my temperature to rise.

"Miss Leslie?" I heard my name faintly on the horizon. I stood in 'awe' observing all the faces and I was like, must everybody here be this incredibly attractive?. I received a benign smile.

"Yes." I sounded polite. All the emotions running through my mind, the one that hurts the most, knew that everyone outside the hell has written me off as a goner. It warred within me.

"It shows in your CV that you are neither from Harvard university nor Stanford university." They eyed me. I wondered how the school mattered to them this much. Mirabelle had told me of their hideous expectations. To wake up from my slumber I have to be strong

"But I passed the initial screening, sir." I tried to back up the terrified me. I pointed to the poster that displayed 'any institution' boldly, trying to rectify their statement. A shiver shot down my spine, and cold sweat trickled down my temple, but my head remained tilted. I desperately need this job.

Looking up, Xander's handsome face stretched in surprise. He gave a sound somewhere between a snort and a scoff. He just looked while his subordinates questioned me.

"Well, we're telling you, you're not qualified."

My heart breaks in my chest. I touched it with my shaking hands, eyes darted around the room, looking for help when I heard that. "I thought I regarded your company as a premium because you don't classify, but employ on merit," I said,

"Believe me, I'd remember a great deal if they had included it in the 'CRITERIA, sir." I retorted, not fearing their decisions. I was dim-witted at home afterwards, distressed and my heart blackened.

Xander didn't even utter a word; he sat and observed the flow. I'd imagined him to be all way talkative, like his mother. Hey, a gentleman. I've been dying to meet him in person, now that I have I can even look him in the eye, but I bet I'm being succinctly scanned by him.

There was only one thing in my brain. 'Does this mean this is how he looks at everyone? I mean, this is intimidating.

"Didn't you hear what they said?" Ian raised his eye curiously. I would have expected this side of me to meet.

I got the courage to reply to him. "I want you to tell me why your company has such poor management, Mr CEO."

" I don't need to be coached or reminded." He said."You're impressive Leslie Dawson." He added a slugger, showing off two rows of perfectly straight teeth and sparkling eyes like daisies. His dentist must be perfect, I thought to myself.

I'm rather competent, sir." I seemed to be caught up in a fantasy world of my own. I didn't realize what I had said until it was too late.

"I love to see." He said. "Competent..." he let out.

"Check her documents and revise them." I peered at the angle that which the word came. His gut twisted as raw emotions crossed my face to his glare.

He said, using his sexy voice like he was on screen doing his normal presentation. Walking out of the room with his half-buttoned white satin shirt. He's known for his rudeness and his keen habit of having the final say. Everyone was amused, including me, but I felt a lot relieved. Hindsight told me that this is not a good omen. That's how my interview went.

"You've got an email but I can't check it, it's for you,". She dragged me from inside the blanket to my PC.

"What is it about?" I asked. A squeak escaped my throat and I felt like I was going to pass out as my heart raced. "Tell me!"

I toss and turn in my bed. Feeling anxious, I lifted the blanket aside and sat up, muttering to my best friend standing at the bedside. Best friends since moving to town when I was five. She was a pretty brunette, with curly hair, green eyes and tanned skin, almost like milk. I didn't like her, though we were in the same class back then. She always seems to be stuck up from a distance. We became friends after I saved her from the school bullies. I realized she was a nice person and boom; we became friends. She's more of a nerd than me.

"It was a dream right, Mirabelle."

"What are you talking about?" She asked

. "It all seems like a mystery itself," I said, sounding unsure about the whole thing. "Do you think he noticed me?" I muffed and groaned. This is driving me insane.

Shoving me, she said. "You're getting hit on by him."

"Oh, come on!" Mirabelle is impatient whatever she thinks she vomits out of her mouth. It scares me to tell her my puzzles.

That's never possible, as I imagine his class to be different. He's rich and accomplished. I stand no ground there." Yes, that was the actual truth. I can't dream of a man that my gender will kill for."

"It's been a week now, not even a mail," I said, my arms folded tightly around, the sour look on my face could have curdled cream.

"Maybe he'll choose you. Besides, he said you should come over, who knows," she said. I laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of that.

"Don't give me false hope, I guess I'll have to start working at a restaurant," I said.

"You'll look good in it, who knows, big turnout huh," Mirabelle said.

"Mirabelle! Stop this explicit joke!" I wince at her deadpan, She shot me a knowing look, one tempered with gentle understanding which only irritated me further.

"You know what? Seeing you've gotten a job, which you'll, only if you'd go to his office, break your piggy bank and use your resources, to find you a new outfit for your work." She stalked into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. She took one sip, cringed at the bitter taste and dumped the rest in the sink.

"That is unnecessary." Hijacking the idea of her mind.

"Whatever." She said, grabbing her bag and walking out of the room.

'Are you gonna stay inside?' I got a text from her, I didn't want to offend her the more immediately I got dressed.

"You need to lighten up, you got a job starting there. It's on a six-month trial. Believe me, I'd do anything to keep seeing Ian if I were in your shoes." She said, grabbing my hand and walking off towards the nearest store.

Even though her comment doesn't phase me, she covers her mouth like she's sworn in front of a pope. "I shouldn't have said that."

I frown at her, confused. "What? Seeing Xander? Well, that's okay, I have a sense of humour, you know."

She shrugs."I know it's just-"

"I know." Keeping pace with her, I muttered. I know how she could be talkative.

She smiled, squeezing my arms. "I know, but this is a chance for you to go after what you want, the job, Ian, your mother's needs, and your bills. Maybe I'll be in the picture too." We chuckled and we walked down the road.

"You don't have to censor yourself around me. I know you, you're strong. Leslie, you can do this. Okay-" she said.

, Okay." I repeat after her and she grins.

How did we land here, anyway? I thought we were out shopping?"

Yes, she grabbed my hand again, this time warmly pulling me along to catch up. "Let's find you an outfit that'll make you look like the CEO of coastal so that when you walk through. Ian will acknowledge your presence. And appoint you."

It's been an hour, looking through racks of clothes I don't like. Trying to fit sure what to put on.

Mirabelle had a sleepover because she knows how disorganized I can be with planning. She's got a pile in her hands scrutinizing every detail which will fit my body.

You're going to go for something short, but not too short that your ass hangs out when you bend over. You feel me."

"For Christ's sake, this is work and not some partying." I'm not letting you wear your old stuff.

Mirabelle protested, but I walked towards my closet. "I think I've seen what to put on." Smiling sheepishly.

"For the first time, you've assumed something great." She said to arrange the piles of clothes in her hands.

"Do I even need to say it?" I turn, my eyes flicking playfully through how messy she looks. The time is almost over, and because of traffic, I'm supposed to be on the road already.

"You're late. This is 8:10." He said. "Six months trial the and first day you're slacking. People will kill to be in your position."

"I'm sorry sir."I apologized in a wistful voice. Knowing I'm bound to be hearing these words often now, I hate it, but I'm still

Xander is the best-looking, guy, I've seen in my entire life. Believe me, I've seen quite a few. He's tall and his athletic physique was obvious. His face is perfectly punctuated, with his high cheekbone and a pointed nose which actuates his modelling face. His lips are beautifully parted and look gorgeous. His upper lip forms an arch-like the top of a drawn heart. His eyes take my breath away. I tried to ignore him today, but I've found myself utterly consumed. They're deep blue with a flash of stunning green. His hair is deep black, in contrast, blending with his milky white skin and he looked irresistible in his white half-buttoned shirt.

It's amazing how personality can dent an iconic image. Do other people know he's an entitled, arrogant jerk? Or is this just my special trait?

I gawked at him as he typed something on his laptop, nibbling his lower lips. After standing there speechless, I let out the words.

"You seem to impress me. Remind me of your name again." He said with a blank look.

"Leslie Dawson." I can't even imagine. I admit I have a crush on him, but I can't even stand his attitude.

"Les, from today, you'll be my secretary." Looking out the window, he crossed over the ledge. He didn't seem to have randomly chosen me. He wanted me to be his secretary and he called me Les instead of my full name. But why?

"What?!" I stared pointedly at him. "Your secretary?" I asked again. I just came to beg him for a job.

"Are you having a problem with that?" He asked, raising his eyebrow. He glanced at his watch, indicating that there was only so much of this he was willing to listen to and he was already close to his limit.

"No, Sir. I'm just surprised." I tried repealing the reply. My eyes widened with the appropriate amount of surprise, as though I'd spent the past five minutes standing in front of a mirror practicing.

"I've reconsidered Leslie Dawson, I'm employed on the conditions you'll be my secretary for six months."

"You what?" Almost spitting the soda in her hands on my face. She nodded for more. Overacting.

"I'm his new secretary, bet he hadn't had one before." I know it sounds awkward but it's now clear to me what it means when he said 'just six months.' I started to feel inferior and angry. It's possible he employed me out of pity. What kind of person will agree to be his errand girl?

She arched her brow. "You're lucky, you know? Some don't care about having to lick his legs." And my friend was very right, I'd take it as a privilege. So naturally, I was extremely nervous. I tried explaining it to my friend.

"Like he was a different person on screen. When he arched his eyebrow earlier today. It was as cold as ice."

That's the fact his voice lacked any emotions. My mother wouldn't love me travelling but as a secretary, Ian's secretary I have no option whatsoever.

"Maybe he wasn't in a good mood." She tries to make me feel otherwise, but I know it's their trait.

"Nada I doubt, ever told you how my mum's director bossed her around?" I retorted. She finished the last of her drink standing back up.

"Hi....." I almost stutter. He didn't say anything and just kept mute making me more nervous. I grip the edge of my windowsill.

I'm talking to Xander.

God! don't faint Leslie. Breathe I calmed myself, as I inhaled the air deeply like a swollen balloon, my face turned red shaming tomato.

"You have a good ear. I believe you know who is on the line." His voice echoed in my ear like thunder, my adrenaline denying me of being discreet.

That's it, he's not going to apologize for waking me up? He was going to tell me something I sensed and it was not going to be fun. No way!

"I emailed you, I want the files edited and time scheduled for tomorrow's meeting." I twist my lips in irritation. Is he doing this on purpose, or what?

After a few minutes, he noticed that I hadn't hung up. " Do you still need something?" He repeats with an air of annoyance. He's right I needed nothing besides its as part of my job. I try gesturing to talk but I'm fidgeting, because I don't want to lose my patience however there's a level to my tolerance.

"No Sir I don't," I replied, feigning my emotions, now I have to work all night. I shrugged showing how infuriating I look at the moment. I checked my email. God! Document of a hundred and fifty-nine pages, it's certainly my new boss doesn't like me at all. Sat up all night editing, categorizing and imputing data. If there's any better way to do this I swear to the heavens I would. But this is the notorious Ian Salvatore. He never used to be told 'no' to. I cross-checked the files on my iPad, and finally, I saw some traces of perfection. Before putting it down. I checked my clock. What the fuck! I shouted, it's after five. At this rate I realized good pay doesn't come easily, they must drain ninety-nine per cent.

I waited for him, my body heating up, I can only imagine how red I'm. Ian didn't come early. I wonder why it became obvious. He wasn't coming to the office today. Why? I don't know why. My frustrating crush is ridiculously taunting me. No way he knows I'm crushing on him. I reassured myself waning off the stupid thoughts lurking in my head.

I believe the documents are ready." A sturdy figure and a masculine voice sexy enough to drain your soul out of your body pass by me. The scent of the Armani perfume is satisfying enough that you don't mind having lunch. I trailed behind him, to his office, explaining the concept of my work to him.

"You have two meetings today: with the marketing firm, ICT firm and an interview with the press., I said preluding carefully through the file in my hand.

"Yes, I do." Xander smiled looking into his alluring eyes, I wished he was mine."Just drop it on my desk and go." I stopped there without moving an inch, wondering if he had known then why the sudden influx.

Xander stands up from the chair he sat on. "Or I should help you." He was a pace closer than I'd imagined, the young CEO, Xander bursts out laughing. His laugh is hoarse and sexy. "Are you going to be this nervous and anxious?" He asked in a mocking tone.

I feel safe standing and not saying anything but I don't think it'll be so brave if we were facing each other on a whole different dimension because honesty is my best quality.

He leans back in his chair. "I'll glance through it once I have time, I just wanted to see." I felt I could kick him in the balls if I was given a chance.

"Really?" I mumbled slowly to myself with an air of annoyance.

The challenge in his eyes is overwhelming. I know mine must be the same.

"Haven't you heard that life isn't fair?"

I grit my teeth. Jerk!

"If you have nothing more to say I was doing something important." He sits up and opens his laptop.

I stare at him like a fool not knowing if it's because he's that much of a jerk or because the feelings I have for him are growing stronger. Either way, I have to get back to work. The atmosphere wasn't pleasant around him, I turned and defeatedly walked my steps out of the room.

My Samsung vibrates on my desk, whilst I was working. Who could be texting me at this time of the day? I opened the message in gasped in surprise as I quickly peeped through the screen

Unknown number: You'll never cease to impress me, Miss Leslie. And I let out a scoff, does he think of me as fun?

I groan in frustration, what's with this sudden messaging, is my work pleasing to his sight? Apparently, things with Ian are nowhere near over. But he's surely mistaken if he thinks I'll continue to be a puppy. Even a secretary deserves some respect.

You mess with the wrong secretary!