BOSS UNDERCOVER ✔️ PUBLISHED

Chapter Two

Claire had never felt so exhausted that morning that she was not far from smashing that alarm clock incessantly until it could not be heard. Instead her temper did not explode from breaking point and she was forced to move out from beneath her bed quilts to conquer the day ahead. Like most mornings, Claire would adopt the bird's nest, the distinct darkness under her eyes and not last but least, the faint trace of dribble across her chin. Heck, she couldn't even take the repulsive distaste of her retainers that had slept within her mouth. How do couples wake up in the morning and take mouth to mouth despite the cost of their morning breath? It really baffled her, something she could not abide. What happened to hygiene? But what was she know? Dating ceases to exist in her territory, that even her double-bed knew the shape of her body all too well.

Claire was even more fatigued sitting at the table that unconsciously she moved the cup to her lips feeling the fierce taste of coffee slide down her throat. This was her only companion in the morning and perhaps alongside the seclusion and nature beckoning through the blinds at sunrise. Despite when Abbey used to live here, coffee in the morning was the only one that understood her. It wouldn't bug, moan, speak, it would just remain hushed. A sound Claire adored in the morning that in particular Abbey couldn't understand. So coffee as fierce as kiss it could be to her throat, coffee understood that mornings were not be disturbed by noise. Was that too much to ask? If this was a set scene for a TV advertisement promoting coffee, she'd nailed it. Cut the crap out of being ebullient at the crack of dawn, look half asleep and barely move an inch, then you've nailed it. No pretentious actors portraying a joyous family excited to be up, no none of that. Just silence. What a morning should be.

Seven-thirty, Claire had just about slipped her final black ankle-boot on her right foot. She groaned slumping forward; this was all too much effort. Encouraging herself to stand up, Claire closed her eyes briefly as even the slight activity of exercise was punishment. Her muscles ached begging to be dressed under the quilts. She felt sorry for those who encountered the misery on her face every day on the public bus.

Claire was content to say the least that as the bus drove to the curb, she could see plenty of vacant seats. Getting onto the bus, she met familiar faces of commuters who just as well looked shattered as they sat far at the back. Claire took the safe option in the middle placing her handbag immediately on the vacant seat beside her; warning to all passengers that she did not want another warm-blooded sitting beside her. Harsh but she could not take the risk of what happened last time. A tall male dressed in dirty jeans, overgrown beard that she suspected contained last night's food came to sit beside her. At first it wasn't a problem, he didn't speak. Then she became irritated by his languid demeanour where as the journey went on, his body slumped against her. Claire could see he had fallen asleep and at her efforts to push him off, he took no notice. It was at least six more stops that as he jumped awake, he pulled back, got off and left without a word of apology. Claire grimaced at that awful memory. Claire was just grateful now that there was hardly anyone on board for the need to remove her bag, ultimately exposing herself to something awful like that happening again. Perhaps when her roommate came along, she wouldn't have to worry about taking it alone. No more problems of the sitting alone. She wondered what did a stranger thought when they spotted her alone. Did she look more vulnerable? Friendly? Bad choice if they thought she was friendly especially in the mornings.

Eventually her journey came to a stop and she was only grateful that the bus stop stood right outside Benson Corporations; its skyscraper towering amongst the many neighbouring ones yet only appeared to stand prouder. Claire did not know of this CEO, heard he was young but nothing else. In particular if you were to meet him face to face, you'd probably mess yourself. Not a nice thought. But what could you believe? And besides the gossip came from Susan Wickes, colleague on her floor who was not only nosey but had a record of exaggerating the truth in the matter. Claire flattened her black peacoat down where wrinkles had formed at the bottom as she entered the reception. Ahead her colleague and greatest friend, Darren, stood waiting in the visitor area reading a magazine. He soon looked up as he saw two black boots intrude his viewpoint beneath.