Edmund
Monday finally came. I'd been dreading this week with everything in me. I had nightmares during the weekend and I mean literal nightmares. Nightmares of an emerald eyed monster with full white hair, chasing me around and screaming I am yoursupervisor, I am your supervisor.
Only the heavens knew the kind of things he was going to make me do. How do you even get on with such a person? I wasn't used to having to deal with people who were so arrogant and stuck up. Don't get me wrong, I had my fair share of arrogant people, but somehow, I always found a way to turn them to my side.
Either it was my good looks or my sharp brain, or my huge dick. One way or another, it always worked but here I was, scared as hell and wondering if I still got it in me.
While getting ready, I was thinking about all the things I should say. Maybe, I should be the first person to extend the branch of… what do they call it again? I don't know, extend a branch to him. He was the one in the wrong to begin with but maybe if I apologize, it'll make it much easier to relate with him.
Fucking hell! I felt like a school boy when I was a few years to turning thirty. Why me? Why did my dad do this to me? Couldn't he have at least chosen someone much older than me? Last I checked, Asher was 28 and I was twenty five. He's literally my age mate—I mean kinda my age mate.
Worse still, he didn't just come with a bag of arrogance, he came with a full bag of hotness. He was sharp mouthed and an asshole but damn, he was fine. Not like I cared about his looks. It was simply an observation.
Yeah right. But you didn't say that part of your nightmares also involved him pining you down and…
I shook my head and rebuked the thoughts. There was no fucking chance. I didn't do arrogant, hot people. Hot? Yes. Arrogant? No.
I arrived at the office building earlier than I would have. The place was already busy, everyone seemed to have some place to be or something to do.
I straightened my shirt and walked in, telling myself to stay calm. This was work. Nothing personal. It's not like he knew me from anywhere and we were enemies or something. Right?
The secretary looked up as soon as she saw me.
"You can go right in," she said. "Mr. Asher is already inside."
That should have been my first warning.
I walked toward the office and pushed the door open. The room was full. Asher sat at the head of the table, his attention fixed on a screen. There were other people seated around him, laptops open, notebooks out. A presentation was clearly ongoing.
"Leave," Asher said without looking up.
I stopped just inside the doorway. "Your secretary said I could come—"
"I won't be repeating myself to an employee," he replied, still not looking at me.
I muttered a curse under my breath and turned around. The door shut behind me. I walked back to the reception area and dropped into one of the chairs, my jaw tight. My irritation, visible.
Minutes passed. Then an hour. Then another.
People came and went. The secretary acted like I wasn't even there. My legs stiffened. My back hurt. I checked the time more times than I could count.
After what felt like forever, the secretary finally stood up and walked over.
"Mr. Asher is asking for you now," she said.
I stood slowly. "I hope this time he doesn't try to murder me," I said. "Because the last time you said that, I was sent out like a kid whose parents couldn't afford his school fees."
She blinked, unsure if I was joking. Don't act confused now, when it was you who told me to go in, the first time.
I couldn't say it out loud but I hope she heard it through my thoughts.
I walked back into the office.
Asher didn't look up. He kept typing, his focus glued to whatever was on his screen.
I stood there. Waiting.
Minutes passed again. This time, it felt deliberate.
"I know you know that I'm here," I said eventually.
He finally looked up. "Oh," he said flatly. "I didn't see you there."
I walked to the chair in front of his desk and started to sit.
"What do you think you're doing?" he asked.
"I've been standing for hours," I said. "My legs ache."
"And so you think you have the right to sit on my chair?" he asked.
I frowned. "Come on, man."
He stared at me. "Why were you late?"
"I wasn't late," I said. "I was only a few minutes late."
"What time did the memo say you should be here?" he asked.
"Eight," I replied.
"Then why didn't you come at exactly eight o'clock?" he asked calmly.
"It's only a few minutes late," I said. "Barely six minutes. It's no big deal."
He leaned back slightly. "I wonder how you built your family's empire if you can't keep to simple time."
I scoffed. "Good thing I've got good looks. That's why it probably didn't matter."
For a split second, his mouth twitched. It looked like he was about to laugh but the moment passed quickly.
"Get me coffee," he said.
"What did you just say?"
"I said you should get me coffee." He said flatly.
I stared at him. "Hell no."
He raised a brow. "Excuse me?"
"You're my supervisor," I said. "Not my boss."
"Very well," he said calmly. "Then you may go back and tell your father the deal is off."
My chest tightened. "You're joking."
"I don't joke about business," he replied.
"You can't possibly be serious."
"I am," he said.
I clenched my fists. "This is ridiculous. I'm not a child or your servant. I have as much rights as you do."
"You're the one making this difficult," he said. "It's not a big deal. Simply get me coffee and we can commence with the day's business."
I stared at him, trying to decide if he was bluffing. His expression didn't change. He looked like he was waiting me out.
I exhaled sharply. "Fine."
"Good boy." His tone was mocking but I liked the way his voice sounded so…..cut it out you fool.
I turned and walked toward the door. "This better not become a habit."
"It will," he replied. "If you're late again."
I opened the door and stepped out, muttering curses under my breath as I headed toward the elevator.