HIDE

EPISODE 6 - SHOPPING SPREE.

Brandon's heart was pounding. The elevator arrived at the first floor, and he scrambled out as soon as the doors slid open, stumbling once, but fortunately not sprawling onto the immaculate sandstone floor. He raced for the wide glass doors, and he was anticipating the less intimidating air outside,

Raising his face, he welcomed the cool refreshing air of Seattle city. He closed his eyes and took a deep, purifying breath, trying to recover what was left of his wit. No man had ever affected him the way Wilson Edward had, and he couldn't understand why. Was it his rudeness? Composure? Wealth? Power? It irritated Brandon that he couldn't understand.

He breathed an enormous sigh of relief. What was that all about? Leaning against one of the immaculate pillars of the building, he courageously attempted to calm down and gather his thoughts. If this was a result of being in the same building with him, just imagine the suffering he will pass through staying with him for hours and days, henceforth.

He shook his head. Holy crap – what was that? His heart steadied to its regular rhythm, and he could breathe normally again. He headed for the bus station.

As he left the EW Group behind, he began to feel foolish and embarrassed as he replayed the occurrence in his mind. Surely, he must have overreacted. He could have handled things in a better way. There was no need of going the extra mile. What if he didn't get this job? What if he was arrested for constituting nuisance? What if… He just had to deal with the affairs of others while handling an attractive, confident, commanding and arrogant know-it-all.

Chills ran down Brandon's spine. He just escaped the disaster of getting into more trouble with a place way above his standard. Wilson might have been arrogant, but, he had the right to be. He had achieved so much within a short period of time, there was no need for him to be loyal or act differently towards people who didn't see him suffer. It was his world. For him, kissing anyone's ass was the last thing on his CEO list. And being kind was a form of ass-kissing for him.

As the stinking stench of the subway pricked Brandon's nose, he juggled among the tired and sweaty passengers to get a spot to fix himself. A life he was now used to. He had to cut costs to handle his bills.

While riding back to his house, he kept thinking, trying to figure out why Wilson was so driven to succeed. Was it the family issue? Was it truly his mother's death? Or, he just wanted to prove himself to his family and the world. It was so unfair that Brandon had judged him even without learning his bitter side.

"Ah," he let out, feeling like the ground should swallow him up.

He should have stayed quiet like he always does. Lost in the crowd and almost invisible. Well, that lifestyle was before he learned that he had responsibilities to take care of and the world was an unfair place where you get trampled upon and ignored if you don't let your voice free.

“Ugh!” He let out again, earning deadly glares from the passengers close to him. Every time he thinks of his actions, he wished to reverse the moment. Maybe he would have done better or… Anything else at all.

'Forget it, Brandon,' he scolded himself. He decided that, After all, he was lucky to get first-class information on him which no one else knew about. It was an interesting experience. It put him on his toes. He shouldn't dwell on it. He had to put it behind him so that he could function. Be it that he gets to see him every day until a period of six months elapses.

He was immediately cheered by the thought of his sister's awaiting questions and eagerness of knowing how his day went. In a world where he had almost nothing left, his sister was the only form of happiness for him.

******

His first day at work was a nightmare for Brandon. He expected a bad day, but it turned out worse.

The moment Wilson walked into the office and set his eyes on Brandon, he took one look at Brandon and said, “What are you wearing?” It was said with such little emphasis in his voice that it took Brandon a moment to understand it as a question.

He looked down at himself and frowned. “A suit?” he said. Wilson made it look as if he was contagious to the core. So, he decided to give him the scoff of his life.

Wilson’s lips curled in mockery. “I can’t have my assistant looking like that. Where did you find it? In the garbage?”

Brandon blazed. “Not all of us can afford multi-thousand-dollar suits. Sir.”

The devil’s black eyes bore a hole into his forehead, unimpressed. “Go get a change of clothes and look decent. You are a reflection of me. Buy a few decent suits and shirts.” He glanced at Wilson’s shoes and sneered. “Shoes, too.”

“My clothes are perfectly fine,” Brandon bit out. “I cannot afford fancy things like you because I am not rich. Deal with whatever I am putting on. All you know is that I should be efficient, not flashy. I have better things to do with money than waste it on irrelevant things.”

Wilson’s jaw clenched. “Fine. Walk.”

Confused, Brandon got to his feet. “What?”

Annoyed, Wilson said nothing, just laid a heavy hand on Brandon’s nape, and directed him towards the door unceremoniously, his touch like a burning iron.

Suppressing the urge to snap that he was perfectly capable of walking by himself, Brandon took a deep breath, in and out. This wasn’t him. He wasn’t this easily annoyed guy. He had his cool. He was better than that. He should take the high ground and not let Wilson get to him. He could handle some attitude. He could handle being bossed around. He could even handle being treated like his opinion on his own clothes didn’t matter. He could suck it up and deal with it. After all, employees got this frequently. The difference was that he was a d**k's employee. One who would make him cry wolf for humiliating him. As rough as this gets, he needed the money to take care of his needs, and it was a great employment opportunity that would change his life forever once he gets through it. Besides, it was not as if he had a lifelong stay here. He would only last six months and that was it. Aside from all that, it still pissed him off.

Wilson steered him to the elevator, then through the underground parking lot, his tight grip still on Brandon’s nape. Brandon felt like a child being dragged back home by an angry mum.

After forever, they reached a gorgeous, black four-seater Lamborghini. The driver opened the door as soon as he saw the boss, who shoved Brandon into the car and finally released him.

Scowling, Brandon rubbed the back of his hurting neck. It still felt like his skin was burning from the cruel touch, crawling with unease. He didn’t know why, this man, made it his duty to irritate him. To irritate him seemed so extreme. Maybe it wasn't the right word to use. But at the moment, he couldn't think of a better one to use.

Wilson dropped a black credit card in his lap. “Take him to a place that would transform him from a cleaner to my assistant,” he told the driver, not even glancing at Brandon. “Make it snappy.”

Brandon opened his mouth to stand his ground, making sure that he wouldn't be treated like some maid, but Wilson shut the door unexpectedly and walked away, already yelling at someone on his phone.

“d**k,” Brandon mumbled, leaning back against the seat and looking around the luxurious interior as the car took off. “He has a great taste. Impressive. If I were to judge his personality with his taste, I will definitely see him as a great person. What a disappointment that his taste isn't his personality.”

“Have any store in mind that you would like to go to?” the driver said.

Brandon looked at the black credit card in his lap and smiled grimly. Fine. Wilson wanted him to buy decent clothes? He would buy some decent clothes.

Taking the shopping spree of his life, like never, Brandon walked into EW Group's office in his brand-new Italian suit, shirt and shoes, holding the rest of Wilson's fifty thousand dollars shopping bags in both hands.

Becky whistled when she saw him. “Damn. You clean up nice.”

Brandon gave her a weak smile, his heart pounding as he dropped the shopping bags by his desk. His impulsive decision to piss Wilson off by spending an outrageous amount of his money had seemed like a great idea an hour ago, but now it just seemed crazy. But Wilson couldn’t possibly fire him for complying with his orders, right? He persuaded him to do so. Sure, but it was compliance. The asshole should have been more specific when he’d ordered him to buy decent clothes. So, it was his own damn fault. That should hopefully teach him a lesson not to be such a show-off of wealth and credit cards.

Setting his jaw, Brandon strode to Wilson’s office and entered it after a knock. “I’m back,” he announced, as a wife will to his children, or, a boyfriend to his girlfriend.

Wilson lifted his gaze from the document in his hands and studied him from head to toe, his face impassive. “You wasted an hour of your workday on something you should have handled before coming to work, so you will stay an extra hour.” And then he returned his gaze to his paperwork.

Brandon blinked, utterly bewildered. Had Wilson not received a notification from his bank yet?

He bit the inside of his cheek, knowing that he should keep his mouth shut, but his conscience whipped him for committing such a malicious act.

“I promise to pay back as soon as I get my first and second paychecks,” Brandon said. “I spent fifty thousand dollars on my shopping.”

Wilson looked up. “Yes,” he said slowly as if he were talking to a small, stupid child. “No need for that. It was an order from me, so, no need to overreact.”

Holy s**t. Like, holy s**t. Brandon knew Wilson was floor-sweeping rich, but not being offended by the fact that he spent two of his salaries acquiring his outfits, showed that he was a tycoon or mogul. This was a reminder that this man was from an entirely different world. Fifty grand didn’t even register as a substantial amount of money for him. So much for his attempt to teach the asshole a lesson.

“Eh,” Brandon said. “Okay.”

“By the way, take this,” Wilson said, without looking at him. He pulled a phone out of his pocket and put it on the desk.

“What is it?” Brandon said, eyeing it with a frown.

“This is an encrypted phone. The one I use for business associates and unimportant acquaintances. From now on, you will be responsible for taking all my calls and deciding which calls deserve my attention and which you should be getting rid of. Don’t bother me without a very good reason.”

Brandon stared at him unbelievably. “How am I supposed to know which are which?”

Wilson finally shifted his eyes to him, his gaze emotionless and hard. “Figure it out or get fired. Option two is always the best.”

Right. Hold it together. Prove the asshole wrong. Keep the job for six months, get an apology from one of the world's richest businessmen, get a recommendation letter, and an excellent opportunity to gloat. He could do this. He could. Just one step at a time, and before you know it, six months have gone. He got through a lot just by enduring, this was a tip of the much negativity he has had to deal with. Brandon Daniel, will not give up.

*******

What is this?” Britney said, her gaze snapping to the shopping bags as soon as Brandon returned home.

“Clothes,” Brandon grumbled, dropping the bags into his sister’s lap before falling onto the couch and groaning. He was so tired, he felt like he could sleep for a week. And this was just his first day.

His eyes closed, he ignored Britney’s gasp of surprise as she opened the bags.

“Wait, how can you even afford this?” his sister said.

“It’s basically a work uniform. My ass of a boss says his assistant can’t look anything less.”

“Ass of a boss?” Britney said with a laugh. “Mine hasn’t even bought me a pizza. Did he seriously buy these clothes for you? As a gift?”

Brandon snorted. “I doubt he sees it that way. For Wilson, everything is business, and he must look for a way to earn back what he spent. He will make me work harder than normal. Although, he is a billionaire who didn't flinch at me spending fifty thousand dollars of his money. I did it intentionally just to piss him off, but that backfired. He just scolded me for sending the wrong email. Can you believe that? How did this man make his money? I wish I could get to that level. He inspires me."

“Must be nice to be that rich,” Britney said with a chuckle. “Still. It’s somewhat nice of him.”

Brandon laughed himself sick. “Nice?” he said when he calmed down a little. “Trust me, he’s far from nice. I am convinced that maybe he made a huge deal today that made him spend this way. Although being in the same environment with him is frustrating. I held back from beating him to a pulp today. Not that I can, the man is ten times stronger than me. But, at least you get the mental picture I am trying to paint. Ugh, just thinking about him makes me so mad!”

Britney looked at him carefully, a wrinkle appearing between her brows. “Are you sure your silly bet is worth it? Half a year is a long time if you hate your job and your boss.”

Brandon looked away, ignoring the sudden pang of doubt. It was too late to backtrack now. Besides, it wasn’t a silly bet. Personal benefits aside, it was for a good cause. If Wilson kept his word and actually came out to apologize, that would be completely worth the pain.

“It’s worth it,” he said firmly before smiling. “I can do it, don’t worry.” He sounded more confident than he felt. Maybe, he could after all.