His Forever

3

"s**t s**t s**t," I muttered to myself.

I knew he looked familiar. Why did I not do enough research about him? Why did I not try to find more recent pictures? Why? Why?  Why? I suddenly felt so sick. Where is an earthquake when you need one? Because I wish the ground would open up and swallow me up.

It took me weeks to get this interview after college, and thanks to my stupid temper, I would lose it before I even got a chance to start working. Dr. Grey was right, I really had to control my temper better.

"What's wrong Miss Emerson? Cat got your tongue?" He said with smugness. Anything I would give to wipe that grin off him. 

I swallowed hard, thinking of a million possible ways to get out of this with my dignity still intact, but none of them seemed to make sense. I could pretend to be someone else and act as if I had never met him, but he was not stupid. He definitely knew who I was, and that was quite obvious with the amused look on his face.

"Come in Miss Emerson," He said, and my brain was still unable to form any words. So I found the will to move my legs over to the desk.

"Sit down," another command. 

 I wondered why was he not calling security to throw me out right away? Maybe this was a trap, and he planned to humiliate me completely before throwing me out? 'You don't know that,' a tiny hopeful voice in my head said. Well, I'll never know if I don't try I thought. Maybe I should try apologizing to him. People always fall for my puppy dog eyes and pout. I should give it a shot.

"Mr. Carlson, I apologize..." he did not let me finish my statement before interrupting me for the second time this morning. What's with this guy and interrupting people.

"So Miss Emerson, your resume here says you have a degree in Business Administration from NYU." He said, flipping through my resume with an unreadable expression on his face that confused me and made him look sexier. Was he going to pretend this morning never happened? Well, lucky for me if he did.

I nodded, and he raised his brows to look at me. "If we are going to have this interview, you are going to have to speak actual words, Miss Emerson." He said in a stern voice.

"Yes." I whispered at first, then I cleared my throat lightly and said a clearer "Yes sir." still unable to look him in eye. Maybe it was my guilt eating at me or the way I felt in his presence. He had a certain feel about him that commanded everyone's attention even before he spoke and I did not dare meet his eyes. They were a sure panty dropper and I had no interest in that. 

"Good," He continued, flipping through. After a few tense minutes, he dropped the resume and looked up. "Pretty impressive, and your GPA is really good. Tell me about yourself."

I was still confused about why he was being nice to me after our encounter this morning, and I was not sure if I was walking right into his trap, but I decided to risk it and play along. "Well, My name is Alisa Emmerson..."

"That was obviously stated in this," he motioned to his desk with my resume on it. He spun the chair in a half-circle, playing with a crystal ball on his desk. "I want to hear things that are not stated in your resume Miss Emmerson."

"Well, everything you need to know about me is in my resume, Mr. Drey." This seemed to amuse him, and he snickered. Feeling offended, I asked, "Did I say something funny?"

Still laughing, he stood up and adjusted his suit. That gesture was enough to remind me of how hot he was. I could drown in the pool of his blue eyes, lost in the dizzying effect of them. 'Focus girl,' I scold myself inwardly and tore my eyes away from his hypnotic gaze.

He turned around to my side of the desk and leaned on the hardwood. And suddenly the room became too hot for me. "Not exactly, I just thought it was Mr asshole." and just like that, all the guilt came flooding back to me, and I lowered my head, not ready to see the look of satisfaction on his face. I knew this was a trap to make me feel worse about my earlier actions. At least if he was going to keep being an asshole I was going to get cured of my infatuation sooner.

He folded his hands across his chest making him look more intimidating. With him just inches away from me, the spicy scent of his cologne became even stronger. He gave a low chuckle as he noticed my guilt. And of course, just the sound of that low vibration from his chest, made my heart flutter in a way that was completely unfamiliar to me. 

The rational part of me that was not yet affected by his presence was telling me to leave and forget about the job, but that tiny flicker of hope in my heart and the irrational part of me that still wanted to be around him made me sit still.

"Do you know the expectation for the position?" he asked, eyes trained perfectly on me.

"Your personal assistant" I didn't know if it was a statement or a question. With him just inches above, I found myself losing all composure. I felt so small with him above me, and I did not dare look up at him.

 "Private." He corrected

"Hmm?" I asked, wanting to make sure I heard right.

 "My private assistant," he repeated.

 "Okay, will I be assisting you with work here at the office?" Now I knew I sounded really dumb asking such an obvious question.

"You will be assisting me here at the office only when it involves personal tasks and handling my personal affairs."

"Personal affairs?" I was not sure what that meant.

He released an exasperated sigh, clenching his jaw "You know, for a girl with such an impressive resume and an equally sharp tongue, you are taking an awful lot of time to understand something so simple."

"Then enlighten me, sir," I purred, gathering the courage to look him straight in the eye.

He got up suddenly feeling uncomfortable, his face smoothing into a tight-lipped smile. I relished my little victory for getting a tiny bit of negative reaction out from him.

 He turned around back to his chair and sat. His face now had that expressionless look that betrayed no emotion and still made him look sexy.

 "As you probably know already, I'm a very busy man. I don't have time to check staff payroll, prepare for functions, schedule meetings, reply to emails, and so forth. All those assignments concerning work here at the office will be handled by my secretary. You will be handling more personal aspects of my life. Like choosing my outfit daily, bringing me my morning coffee very early in the morning, being my escort to events and dinners, planning out my personal trips, sending cards to close business associates on special occasions, and many other tasks."

 "Okay. I understand." I lied. I didn't understand a single thing, but I needed to get the job so I pretended to.

"So that's why I need to know more about you. Specifically, information that is not provided here, in your resume as you would be spending a major part of your days..." He paused as if trying to weigh his words. Then he continued, "and nights with me. Do you understand Miss Emmerson?"

"So basically everything I do would revolve around you?" at least I got that part.

"Yes. You would attend important functions with me, have dinner with me on most days, take care of my shopping, go on personal...."

"Wait I'm expected to have dinner with you?" I questioned, brows furrowed. 

"Yes, on most days." He opened his drawer and took out a black file.

"The list of all your expected tasks is laid out clearly in this file. I'll give you a few minutes to go through it" He relaxed back in his chair and crossed his fingers together.

After going through the list, I was certain that I would not be accepting the job. I did not even have Saturdays off. It was like he was employing me to be his personal slave dedicated to being at his beck and call at any hour of the day he wished. Like marriage but without the emotional commitments.

"You know a wife would cost less," I blurted.

He laughed humorlessly "Of course until we start having all the emotional roller coaster, fighting every day, then we get divorced, and she takes half of everything I've worked so hard to achieve."

 "Well, I'm sorry, but I can't do this. I thought I was coming here for an interview to be your personal assistant, but this," I said gesturing to the file. "I don't think I can do this. You'll completely change my lifestyle leaving me with barely any time for myself."

This job was pressurizing, but if I thought about it more, finding another job might be even more pressurizing.

"What lifestyle?" He crossed his arms behind his head. "You know you don't actually have a very special lifestyle, you're one of those boring nerdy girls that only know their books and never any fun. Your resume here says it all."

His words punched me in the gut even though I knew they were true. In school, I was the quiet nerd that never knew how to have any fun. Luckily my contacts helped me avoid glasses, that would have been the last ingredient for my nerdy weirdo recipe. My social life only revolved around my best friend Ronnie, his boyfriend, my dad, my old landlady, my books, and my dreams.

Ronnie though, became known as the life of the party when we moved to college. I guess I just liked to stay out of trouble. So he was right, I didn't have a special lifestyle. But that did not make his words hurt any less.

 "That's so rude Mr. Carlson," I spat out trying to maintain my composure and failing at it.

 "And being called an asshole right in front of my own office building is not rude?" I did not know what to say to him, so I chose to apologize. If I decided to play in my own rights, I really had nothing to be sorry for, I was the one that left with bruises. 

 "Look, I'm sorry about my behavior this morning, I honestly didn't know who you were"

"Hmm, so you would have been less audacious if you knew who I was?" He was not going to make this easy for me by just accepting the apology.

"Well if it makes you feel any better, you were rude first, and I was only responding to you. Also, I hurt my ankle, so you should be happy."

"How is the first part supposed to make me feel better?" He c****d his brows. 

I was feeling defeated already. Maybe this was just a big waste of both our time. "Okay, so do you intend to taunt me about it until you're satisfied and then make me walk out of here jobless?"

 "Tempting," he said rubbing his chin "but no."

He stood up and resumed his earlier position by me. Why did he have to come so close every time? And more importantly, what the hell was those tingles that shot through me when he did. "Regarding your earlier actions, I would make sure you regret it, someday really soon but not today."

 I swallowed hard. Terrified of what he meant by that.

"For now, you seem like a perfect person for the job, thanks to your boring routine."

 "How do you know that?" I hadn't said much about my lifestyle in my resume, so how would he know that.

"You didn't think I would interview just anyone for this job without running a background check, did you?"

 "And your background check proved that I don't have a life outside books?"

 "That and a lot more." He said without missing a beat.

 "Well Mr. Drey, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but this job is too demanding, and it only gets worse. I'm sorry for wasting your time, but I won't be accepting this job." I stood up and half-turned towards the door

"Yes, you will because for some reason, you badly need this job,"

 "And how would you know that? Your background check must have been really thorough" I bit back, with my brows raised.

 "No. you told me that yourself. You would have left the minute you saw who I was, but you stayed because you really need this job. I can see that flicker of hope going on and off in your eyes, and that's why you'll take this job."

"Wow, you should change your line of profession to psychology," I said drily "maybe that would give a lot more fortune than you have now."

"I highly doubt that, but I do have a talent in reading people and that is one of the reasons I'm very successful."

 "You're right, I need this job but not so much that I'll take such a pressurizing job that leaves me with absolutely no time for myself or those I care about," I turned around and as I headed for the door, my mind was already working on what my next option would be to get a job soon. 

"100,000" I must have heard wrong. No, I definitely heard wrong.

I turned around swiftly. "What?" I blurted out.

"I'll pay you 100,000 dollars if you accept the job."

 "Why on earth would you pay me such an outrageously high amount just to be an assistant?" I cried. "That's not the kind of money you pay an assistant."

 "Finding someone with your education, that has what it takes to completely commit to me without the hindrance of parties, boyfriends, and other ties is almost impossible in this city. I like to keep company with someone that knows how to be discreet and can hold a conversation, and you clearly can."

 I wanted to tell him that I had a best friend and a dad who I had to visit every two weeks, but I could not get the '100,000' past my head.

Maybe Ron would understand if I didn't have as much time for him as I usually did and maybe, dad would not be too hurt if I only visited the hospital once a month. They both wanted the best for me, right? And this felt like the best for me at the moment.

With this, I would be able to pay off my student loan, take care of dad's medical bills, and still save up a lot. I chewed on my lips, thinking about what to do next.

"Do I get to have holidays off?" I finally asked.

 "That can be considered," he replied

 Well, if I was going to do this, I had to know what I was up against. "Can I ask a question?"

 "I thought the employer was supposed to ask most of the questions during an interview, but okay."

"Why did your first assistant quit?"

He looked shocked at my question but maintained his composure. "Why would you assume she quit, I could have fired her." he flexed his watch that was placed firmly around his strong wrist. 

"You said finding someone perfect for the job is almost impossible, so I highly doubt you would've fired her"

"She did quit. She couldn't keep up. I can be a very...demanding man, Miss Emmerson," I did not miss the suggestiveness in his tone, "it is important you know this before accepting this job." He seemed so sure of himself like he knew I would definitely accept it.

 "I can quit anytime I want right?" I hesitated.

 He chuckled and walked over to stand in front of me. I've always been a tall girl, but he completely overshadowed me. He made me feel insignificant with his height towering over me.

"This is not prison Miss Emerson, you can quit whenever you want to as long as I have a one-month notice prior. Although I hardly doubt you would want to quit with everything I plan on doing with you" another suggestive remark. Or maybe it was because I was already intoxicated from being so close to him. He was bad for me, that fact was sure enough, but somehow I could not get myself to complete the steps leading to the double doors and head out. 

The lump in my throat made it harder for me to swallow. His presence alone was nerve-wracking for me and I struggled to keep my composure. Despite myself and the doubts running through my mind, I said a weak "Okay."

 "Okay, we have a deal?" he asked, still standing dangerously close to me. 

 "Yes, we do." for some reason, that came out as a whisper. 

"Good girl," he smirked, and something about the way he said the words, made me wish he would give me another command that would lead to hearing them again. He shoved his hands in his pocket, "I'll have the paperwork ready tomorrow morning. Before that I'll email you the tasks for tomorrow then we'll discuss my needs tomorrow afternoon." he said and went back to his desk. "Any more questions?" he asked.

Only a million, I thought. Despite that, I shook my head.

"Then I think we're done here. I'll see you tomorrow morning at 7, my house" he said as he took a seat behind his desk.

 "Why would I be at your house?"

 "You don't think I would have my morning coffee here do you?" he did not even bother to grace me with a glance. 

 Oh, that. It was probably the part I disliked most about this job. "Of course not," I answered sweetly.

He raised his head and gave me a thoughtful look. For some reason I could hear the unsaid words, "last time to run," and of course instead of doing just that, I straightened my shoulders, gave an earnest smile, and said, "I hope to see you tomorrow Mr. Carlson."