After embellishing her resume, Valerie-a single mom-lands a job as an administrative assistant to the hottest, most entitled and obnoxious man she's ever met: Preston Cartwright, the CFO of the prestigious Cartwright & Sons Enterprises.
Several yea...
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I barge out of my office pissed as hell after my meeting with Solomon Sanders, only to find Ralph Demers with his arm around Valerie's shoulders. They both have their coats on. He walks her slowly towards her desk. It's obvious that they've been somewhere.
Somewhere together? I stop and stare.
What the fuck is going on? My eyes dart back and forth between them.
Wasn't she on a date?
And then I suck in a breath. No fucking way!
Him?
That's who she was on a date with? Him?
It sure as fuck looks like it, but that can't be. She knows exactly what kind of man he is and what he's been doing.
I know she's a smart woman, so why the hell would she go on a date with him? Is she that desperate? Did me kissing her scare her into his arms?
Valerie puts her bag down on her desk and turns to face Demers. Her eyes meet mine momentarily and she stiffens before they land on him.
"Thank you for lunch," she says with a smile that doesn't seem quite right. But what the hell do I know? I thought she and I were on the same page. Clearly I was helluva mistaken.
"You're welcome," he says with a grin like he's wants to do it all over again. Whatever the fuck it was they did. I hope they ate. Food.
Demers leans down and places a kiss on her cheek.
He kisses her cheek!
The blood rushes to my head and I'm ready to throw down with Lydia and Alana staring at us from behind me and Valerie making some kind of fake sounding giggle. Just because he kissed her cheek and took her out to lunch?
What the ever loving fuck is going on?
I'm losing it.
This week has been the week from hell. I can't fucking handle it anymore. Nothing makes sense. Nothing.
So I do the only thing I can. I leave.
Not bothering to knock, I burst into Andrew's office like I'm being chased by a hoard of wild boars and slam the door shut behind me. It rattles. But I don't even bother to look if he's on the phone or if there's a meeting going on. All I know is that I'm about to have some kind of breakdown or a fucking panic attack.
My heart is racing and I'm breathing a lot faster than normal. I'm so fucking angry I feel out of control.
I don't know how to a handle this.
I'm bee-lining for the alcohol I know Andrew keeps in the globe by the window. The one that matches the one he has in his home office.
"Pres?" Andrew looks up at me from where he sits behind his large desk. His eyebrows drawn together in concern and his eyes narrow as he studies me.
