Working for Mister Charles, our esteemed CEO, proved to be much more challenging than I had anticipated. From conducting staff investigations to inspecting company advertisements, gathering data, and organizing events for one of the leading home decor brands, he was always in the spotlight. His popularity often stirred up quite a buzz, with many admirers vying for his attention.
At one point, an angry woman confronted me, mistakenly believing I was his girlfriend during a brief stop at a restaurant because he was feeling peckish. She hurled insults my way, calling me a delusional witch for even thinking he could be interested in me, and disparaged my brown skin. Before I realized what was happening, she charged at me, grabbing my hair. I refrained from retaliating, wanting to avoid tarnishing anyone's reputation. As I attempted to fend her off, Mister Charles merely chuckled, saying nothing to counter her accusations.
Just as she reached for a fork with the intent to poke my eyes out, he swiftly signaled his guards to handle the matter. He then took a moment to clarify the situation since there was quite an audience capturing every moment on their cameras. If I hadn't developed a few self-defense skills, I might have ended up as a one-eyed assistant—now that would have been quite the story! His attitude, though, was a different challenge altogether; his mood swings struck at the most random times, reminiscent of a pregnant woman with double the emotional flair. Yet, I can't deny that the compensation makes it all worthwhile.
***************
"Ms. Bloom, could you please retrieve the new staff documents from Mr. Smith?" This marked the third time Mister Charles had sent me to the main office for something. Ugh! I feel like I'm losing my sanity. It's as if he takes pleasure in putting me under pressure. Hold on! He just referred to me as Bloom! How on earth does he know that name?
"Mister Charles? How... did you call me Bloom?" I met his gaze, seeking clarity for the whirlwind of thoughts racing through my mind.
"You don't really remember me? It's an adorable name, isn't it? That's what I'll be calling you," he grinned broadly, as if his comment was music to his ears.
"Remember you??" I'm genuinely puzzled; that nickname is not something I would have thought anyone would derive from my name.
"Come on now, I need that file pronto!" he insisted, waving me along with his hands.
"Absolutely, sir!" This marks the start of my fourth week as Mister Charles's assistant at Nest Nook, and honestly, I feel as though I've barely caught my breath since I started.
I hurried to the elevator that would take me to the main office, fully aware of the swirling rumors about my position and the nature of my connection with Mister Charles. Admittedly, it was a bit strange, but I wasn't about to voice any complaints.
To my right, two women were engaged in a lively gossip session about me. I couldn't tell if they were being intentionally loud or just not very discreet.
"Look, Mira! That's the new assistant everyone's been buzzing about!" one of the women exclaimed, gesturing toward me in a way that was stylish but meant to evade my notice.
"Oh my gosh! She's gorgeous. I totally understand why he'd choose her as his assistant. I'd do the same, and she definitely seems capable," the second girl, *Mira*, regarded me with open admiration.
A subtle smile made its way to my lips. At least she seems to have her head on straight.
"No Mira! You shouldn't admire her. She likely slept her way into that role, and honestly, she's not even that attractive—just look at her brown skin! Ugh." Disgust etched on her face, she shot me a glance.
I refuse to waste time on women who choose to gossip instead of focusing on their futures. I absorbed their words, waiting patiently for the elevator to reach its destination.
Once it arrived, I hurried to Mr. Smith's office. Knocking on the door, I entered without waiting for an invitation, fully aware that Mr. Smith wouldn't say a word.
As one of the longest-serving employees in the company, Mr. Smith was the most reliable, possessing a wealth of company knowledge. He tended to be grumpy for someone in his thirties, yet from what I observed, he was a devoted father and husband. It seemed he morphed into an old curmudgeon at work but became a simple family man at home. Quite the two-faced persona.
"How may I assist you, Ms. Blossom?" He kept his gaze fixed on the document he was reading.
"Um, Mr. Charles sent me to retrieve the—" Mr. Smith's phone buzzed, interrupting her. He adjusted his glasses and answered the call.
*The Devil*?!
He promptly answered the call and excused himself, leaving me alone in his office.
Wow! Who is this *The Devil*?! Whoever they are, I don't like the sound of them. Who am I kidding? I've never even met him.
Nonetheless, I can't shake this uneasy feeling; Mr. Smith looked completely rattled when he saw the caller ID. A whole Mr. Smith!
I waited for ten minutes before he returned.
"I apologize for the wait, Ms. Blossom. What was it you needed?" Mr. Smith appeared both stressed and relieved.
"Mr. Charles sent me to pick up the documents for the new staff." I quickly rose from my comfortably seated position.
"Just give me a moment," he said as he moved towards the shelf beside his desk, which was filled with various files and documents.
Five minutes later, I found myself in the same position, realizing that Mr. Smith had misplaced it. He insisted he had set it aside, anticipating Mr. Charles would request it.
Feeling weary, I decided to assist in the search. I walked straight to his desk and discovered it right there!
It was clearly labeled *New Staff's*.
"Um, Mr. Smith, I think I've found it. It was on your desk," I said, waving the file in the air.
"Ah, wonderful!" He looked quite flustered and bewildered.
Without wasting any time, I headed back to the office.
I placed my card on the machine, which beeped, and the door slid open as I entered.
Mr. Charles was deep in conversation with a man sitting in the center of the office. The figure seemed oddly familiar, sending a shiver of unease down my spine.
I approached Mister Charles to hand him the file, extending my arm to place it in his grasp. "Oh, Vincent, this is my new assistant," he remarked, showing no inclination to take the document. "Bloom, meet Vincent." I raised my gaze and came face-to-face with him…
Oh no!
It can't be!
No! No! No! How is this even possible?
Who on earth is he, and why does he keep appearing in my life?
My hands trembled and felt damp, my breathing quickened.
I need to compose myself; I can't afford to have a panic attack right now!
His presence is overwhelmingly unsettling.
My stomach twisted uncomfortably.
He fixed his gaze on me, a slight illumination crossing his face as he donned a sinister smirk—pure malevolence, nothing good at all!
"Bloom, are you alright? You look unwell. You can take the day off; you've been working really hard lately," Mister Charles expressed with genuine concern. If he truly cared, he wouldn't have introduced this monster into my life.
Gathering my strength, I managed to respond.
"No, sir, I'm fine." I held the file tightly in my grip.
"I'd prefer to have a private conversation." His voice was deep and ominous.
"Alright, Bloom, just leave the file on my desk. Are we finished for the day?" Mister Charles appeared genuinely stern, a rare sight.
"Yes, sir, that's everything for today." At this moment, I felt as if my legs might buckle beneath me.
"You're free to go," he said, nodding toward the exit.
"Ye-yes, sir." I glanced up at the menacing figure watching me; he seemed enchanted, as if he were gazing at a massive treasure.
I hastily exited the office.
I truly can't understand what's wrong with me. That man!
I don't know him, but he radiates malevolence.
As I drove home, my thoughts repeatedly returned to him.
I sank into the plush couch, scrolling through my phone while my mind wandered aimlessly.
His name is Vincent—why should I even care? Thank goodness it's the weekend; I'll have plenty of time to recover from that distressing and embarrassing encounter.