God, I feel like death warmed over.
Mr. Vitale has been relentless this morning. You’d swear he’s the one who didn’t get any sleep.
Asshole.
Just as the thought crosses my mind, an incoming call comes through from his office.
Answering it, I try to sound upbeat as I say, “Yes, sir?”
“My office. Now!”
God, I hate him.
“I’m coming.” He doesn’t hear my reply, because he’s already hung up.
I let out a whining sound as I get up from my chair and have to resist the urge to stomp my feet like a two-year-old.
Opening the door to the chamber of wrath, I go inside.
“Cancel all my appointments for the next two days,” he barks. “And fix all the mistakes on this contract.”
Papers fly across his desk, and I dart forward to catch them. Before I can stop myself, I snap, “Do you have to be such an asshole?”
When he raises an eyebrow at me, my words register in my tired brain.
I did not just say that to him!
I start blinking at him, and then an apology falls over my lips, “Oh my God. I’m so sorry, Mr. Vitale.”
His intense eyes stare a hole into my freaking soul before he says, “You look sick. Maybe you should take the rest of the day off.”
Surprised, I squawk, “What?”
“Go home, Miss Blakely. I can manage without you for one day.”
A frown forms on my forehead. “I’m not sick. I can work.”
“Go home before I change my mind and make you work until midnight!” he barks.
I spin around and make a beeline for the door, but before I can escape the chamber of wrath, he snaps, “And you better be back to your full potential tomorrow!”
“Yes, sir.” I almost freaking curtsy. “Thank you, sir.”
Why the hell am I thanking the king of bastards?
Still, at least he didn’t fire me for calling him an asshole.
I switch off my computer and grab my bag from the drawer.
Never again am I staying up that late.
Leaving the building, I head to the subway station, and once I’m seated on a train, it becomes the fight of my life to stay awake.
The moment I walk into my apartment, I let out a groan and drop down on the couch. I kick off my high heels, and curling up into a fetal position, it only takes a minute or two before I’m fast asleep.
Waking up, I’m confused and don’t even know what day it is.
It takes me a moment to remember what happened earlier, and now that I’ve had some rest, dread pours into my veins.
God, after all the hard work I’ve put in over the past few weeks to impress Mr. Vitale, I just had to screw things up.
I pull my handbag closer and dig my phone out of it. When I check the time and see I only slept for two hours, I dart up and rush to the bathroom to fix my makeup and hair.
Maybe I can still salvage things. I’ll work late tonight to make up for the shit show this morning.
When I look good as new, I hurry out of my apartment and take the subway back to work.
Nerves tighten my stomach, and I brace for the wrath of God as I walk into the building.
During the ride up to the top floor, I nibble anxiously on my bottom lip and when the elevator doors open, my legs feel a little weak.
No matter what happens, I’m going to work my butt off.
When my desk comes into view, I see Gloria from the sales department sitting in my chair.
Surprise flutters over her face. “Mr. Vitale said you’re sick.”
“I’m not.” I give her a grateful smile. “Thanks for covering for me, but I’ll take over.”
“Thank God,” she sighs. Getting up, she shakes her head. “I don’t know how you do it.”
I watch as she walks away then take a seat at my desk. After I tuck my handbag in the bottom drawer, I check all the emails and notice Gloria couldn’t keep up with Mr. Vitale.
The poor woman.
I put the wireless headset on and fix the contract I botched up this morning. After I email it to Mr. Vitale, I get to work on all the emails.
I don’t know how much time has passed when I suddenly hear, “What are you doing here?”
I startle so bad, that I dart up from my chair and shriek, “Jesus! My freaking heart!”
Seeing Mr. Vitale glare at me, I ramble, “I thought you were out for the rest of the day? I felt better, so I came back to work. I’m sorry.”
Why the hell am I apologizing for coming to work?
He drops a signed contract on my desk. “Courier it to the lawyers.”
“Yes, sir.”
His eyes burn on my face for a moment too long, then he says, “I’m leaving.”
“Yes, sir.”
When he walks away, I slump down on my chair and let out a sigh.
If the stress of working for the man doesn’t kill me, the heart attack he tries to give me every other day will.
Just as I’m about to get back to work, my cell phone vibrates with an incoming message. Picking up the device, I unlock the screen, and seeing a text from my mystery man, a smile spreads over my face.
MMM: I’m just checking in to make sure you’re alive, and your boss didn’t kill you.
Samantha: He came close to wringing my neck a couple of times, but I survived.
MMM: I’m glad to hear that.
Samantha: Did you manage to get some sleep?
MMM: Not a single wink.
Shit.
I feel rotten when I read his reply.
Samantha: I’m so sorry. Can you at least squeeze a nap in today?
MMM: Don’t worry about me. I’ll talk to you later.
I place my cell phone on the desk and turn my attention back to my work. Putting the contract in an envelope, I schedule a pick-up time with the courier Vitale Health always uses.
I take call after call while typing up reports and letters, and when I come up for air, it’s to see it’s past six already.
Getting up from my chair, I stretch my body before I grab all the documents from the printer. I grab my stapler off my desk and head to the empty boardroom so I can use the large table.
Stapling all the reports and contracts, I set them down in neat piles before double-checking all the letters for any errors I might’ve missed when I typed them.
Happy with my work, I gather everything and carry it to Mr. Vitale’s office.
Just as I take hold of the doorknob, it twists beneath my hand. I’m yanked forward as someone opens the door, and I slam into a hard wall of muscle.
Hands grab hold of my arms, and as the documents fall to the ground, my eyes lock on Mr. Vitale’s face.
It only takes a second before it registers that his hands are gripping my biceps.
He’s touching me.
Before I can start panicking, he lets go of me and takes a couple of steps backward.
Feeling rattled, I suck in a deep breath of air before I look at the documents scattered on the floor.
“Why are you still here?” he asks in his usually grumpy tone.
My voice is tight from the shock as I answer, “I wanted to get all the work done.”
I crouch down and gather all the papers.
I didn’t have a panic attack.
In the past, something like this would’ve set me off.
It means my meetings with my mystery man are really working.
Intense relief fills my chest, and it makes me overemotional.
I stand up again, and rushing past Mr. Vitale, I place the stack of documents on his desk.
When I turn around he mutters, “Go home, Miss Blakely.”
Geeze, the man really doesn’t want me at the office today.
“Have a good evening, sir.”
I head back to my desk, and as I switch off my computer, I hear male voices rumbling from the elevator’s direction. Just then, two men come down the hallway, and the sight of them makes a shiver race over my body.
Dear God, they look just as intimidating as Mr. Vitale.
They’re both tall, and the expensive suits they’re wearing are clearly tailor-made for their bodies.
One of the men notices me, and a smile spreads over his attractive face. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the infamous PA.”
What does that mean?
“Shut up, Dario,” Mr. Vitale snaps from where he’s standing in the doorway to his office. His eyes flick to me. “Why are you still here?”
“I was just about to leave,” I say.
I grab my handbag and wait for the men to pass my desk, but Dario stops in front of me.
With a playful grin, he holds his hand out to me. “Dario La Rosa. Just let me know when you’re tired of his bullshit. I’m looking for a good assistant.”
Oh shit.
My eyes drop to his outstretched hand, and unable to be rude to Mr. Vitale’s business acquaintance, I place my hand in his.
As if a switch is flipped inside me, a fine layer of sweat beads over my skin, and fear floods my veins.
My breaths burst over my lips, and they’re so loud it’s all I can hear.
Every muscle in my body locks up, and my feet refuse to move.
‘You call this a meal?’ Todd roars as he shoves my face into the plate of spaghetti and meatballs. ‘Then you fucking eat it!’
I can’t breathe, and placing my hands on the table, I try to push against Todd’s brutal grip around the back of my neck.
Suddenly, I’m yanked away from the plate. Before I can catch my bearings, he slams me against the wall, and the blow to my head makes my vision go black.
“You’re safe….No one’s going to hurt you…Jesus fucking Christ… Samantha, you’re safe…”
I manage to suck in a breath of much-needed air, but then the panic attack has me bursting out in tears, and it becomes harder to breathe.
Hands frame my face, and Mr. Vitale’s face appears before mine. “Look at me, Samantha!”
His harsh tone rips me out of the terror I’m stuck in.
“Take a deep breath,” he orders, and like a good little PA, I obey.
“That’s good,” he praises me, which is all it takes to make me come to my senses.
Pulling his hands away from my face, he takes a seat on the chair next to me and it’s only then I realize we’re in his office.
There’s no sign of the other men.
Forget about that and focus on calming your emotions.
It feels like an elephant is sitting on my chest, but as the seconds pass, the pressure eases until my breathing returns to normal.
With my head bowed, I wipe the tears from my face.
When I feel semi-normal again, the realization sinks in that I just had one hell of a panic attack in front of my boss.
Today is not my day.
Feeling smaller than an ant, I whisper, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” his voice rumbles. He sounds agitated with me.
My heart sinks, and gathering the meager strength I have left, I lift my head and meet Mr. Vitale’s dark eyes.
Instead of firing me, he says, “Take a moment, and once you feel better, go home. I’m leaving with the other men, so you’ll be alone.”
I nod, and as he gets up from the chair, I blurt out, “I’m really sorry for today.”
“It’s okay, Miss Blakely. We’re all entitled to a bad day once in a while.” He pauses, and his eyes drift over my face. “Get some rest tonight.”
I nod and watch as he leaves the office.
“How is she?” I hear Dario ask.
“Better. Let’s go,” Mr. Vitale grumbles.
Hey, at least I’m not the only person he growls at.
Letting out a sigh, I cover my face with my hands, and then disappointment washes over me.
I’m not making any progress.
But why am I okay with my mystery man?
It takes a moment before I realize I also didn’t freak out when Mr. Vitale was touching me. Instead, he managed to calm me down.
Okay, so maybe it will take a little longer before I’m okay with touching random, strange men.
