Lady in Red

Approximately over 800 people worked for Mr. Reece Dean just in cooperate in Boston. There was a ratio of 60 to 40 in which 60 percent were women who now worked for Mr. Dean and the rest were men. Idly I cannot help but to think about all of them today. Majority of people were giving me a nice, genuine smile as if I was the most popular employee who worked here while the others were giving me a cold shoulder. Of Envy. Mainly women. Greta had said so. People will envy me.

I held on to my files, closer to my chest, as I walked past everyone to make my way towards me own little booth.

"Good afternoon, Catherine," Some would greet me, unexpectedly. I smiled back as I continued to walk. Jennifer, Jessica, Megan, Meisha, and god knows how many other women here were beginning to give me a cold shoulder. How was it all my fault that the greatest, Reece Dean had a liking of me and not them?

I sat down on my cushion chair as I examined my booth. My booth wasn't small but it wasn't as big either. Everyone had their own little office shielded from bullet proof glass. I am not going to complain thought because mine was just a little big bigger than most people's.

"Good Afternoon, Catherine," A familiar voice said, walking in with a bouquet of white flowers in her hands. I looked up and hadn't even realized that someone was in my office.

"Good Afternoon, Carriah. How is everything?" I asked.

"I'm fine. But look at you. You're glowing and showering in popularity. The talk in about you and it's going on heavenly. People are wanting to congratulate you out there on being chose. So how does it feel?" She asked, handing me the bouquet. Incidentally, I grab it, smell it and smile.

"These are for me?"

"Of course. Don't just expect it from me though."

"What for?"

"It's a congratulation gift, silly. Take it with gratitude," she smiled. Oh, I must put these in the vase filled with water, then! I don't want them dying on me.

"Carriah, I'm just a typical employee who got the job of being someone else's personal assistant. I have done it before, haven't I?" I ask, defending myself.

"The second time in the row for working for both the former CEO and now with the most hottest and richest bachelor ever!" I scowled at her.

"The only difference is that I am going to work a little extra for him than any of you. Stop making it such a controversy."

"You don't realize how darn lucky you are, don't you? You will see," she said, giving me a slight wink before walking out the door. Once the door closed I couldn't help but to think.

What makes me so special?

Suddenly, there's a beep on my office phone.

"Ms. Catherine, come to my office. Now." And the speaker cuts off. Oh! Am I in trouble? I get up and walk out my office in a lady-like manner. My heels click lightly on the concrete ground. My heart is pounding against my chest, painfully. I am nervous but for what reason I don't know. I stop outside his office door. I can't seem to open the door as something invisible stops me from doing so. I pull my hand away for a split second but then go ahead and open it out of curiosity. I walk inside. Mr. Dean's eyes are locked on mine as I find the courage to look at him. I think I have died a little inside just by looking at him. I see why girls envy me. He is a delighted piece on sight.

"Yes, Mr. Dean," I say, standing in front of his desk.

"Type these documents and fax them to my mother in New York. Make sure every word and sentence is punctual as my mother does not like grammar errors." I was taken back a little. Have I ever made an error in typing before? I walk up to him, grab the papers, and proceed to walk out.

"I will get right on it, Mr. Dean."

"Catherine?" I stopped walking. The way he said my name made me feel something pull deep into my groin. I clutched onto the papers tighter as I pushed my inappropriate thoughts aside. He is my boss, for god's sake.

A hot one, sweetie, my conscience spoke.

I turned around to face him again as he eyed my papers, chuckling. I looked down only to see them crumbled under my palm. Did I do this? I blushed in horror.

"I'm..I'm sorry, sir. I think I…"

"It's fine. They are not original anyways. Make sure you don't do that to the original ones you type of to fax. I won't like that so much," he said, nonchalantly. I blushed harder as he winked. I laughed nervously.

"Right, Mr. Dean. I will keep that in mind.."

"Get me a coffee, will you?" I couldn't help but to smile at his northern accent. I don't know where he gets it from. London? Perhaps from New York?

"Yes, sir. What kind?"

"Espresso." His eyes never left mine.

"Long or short?"

"Long."

"How would you prefer it?"

"Espresso Coretto."

"Grappa, Cognac, or Sambuca?" I added. Mr. Dean looked at me, bewildered. I grinned.

"You know your drinks. I didn't know women knew of those around here."

"I used to make my dad Espresso Coretto with Sambuca. He loved it. The only Espresso he would drink. It made him feel like he was rich," I chuckled.

"Impressive, indeed. Ask your dad to come down here so we can drink together." I gave him a small smile.

"He's no more, sir. Died in a car accident." I half whispered. Reece Dean's smile dropped as he sat up straight.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he said, apologetically.

"It's fine, sir. In fact, have you heard of my father, Joseph White? Your father knew him."

"Your Joseph White's daughter!" He said, amazed. I smiled.

"Yes, sir."

"I stayed with him for few days when I was 16. My father and your father were best friends, correct?" He said, amazed.

"Yes. Second reason why your dad hired me. I was his best friend's daughter."

"He was a great man. He taught me how to throw knives into a target successfully. I remember that very well up this day."

"Isn't that nice? My father never let me get closer to anything sharper or glassy that would harm me," I retorted, chuckling. Reece rubbed his chin in between his index finger and his thumb, smirking.

"I wouldn't either." Somehow I don't know why but I managed to blush. I smiled.

"Sugar?"

"One block."

"Anything else, sir?"

"That's it. Go down to Monica's. And don't worry. You don't have to pay."

"Free?"

"My mother owns it," he smirked. Of course. What don't these people own? I nodded my head as I excused myself out of his office, closing the door behind me. I couldn't help but to smile. My dad knew him.

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Monica's was huge! It was a bakery which had all sorts of delicious, different types of sweets plastered in showcase. I inhaled the crest aroma of sweets as my mouth watered a little. Never have I ever been to something that looked this extraordinary. There were pastries that looked like they were shipped specially from international places. There were different types of sweets from Indonesia, India, China, Korea, London, Australia, and many more. How did I not see this place before?

"Hi, may I help you?" A lady asked, behind the counter. I turned around to face her and smiled as warmth radiated from her. I walked up to her.

"Can I get an Espresso Coretto with a shot of--" Oh! I didn't get what he wanted! What did he want? "Um..Sambuca, please."

"Coming, right up!" The lady came back after five minutes with my coffee. I took it with a smile and proceeded to leave out the door, leaving the sweet aroma behind.

I stood outside his office moments later and knocked on his door.

"Come in." I walked inside. Reece Dean was typing something on his computer and then stopped. He gave me a small smile as I walked up to him.

"Your coffee, sir."

"Thank you."

"Anything else?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Yes, sir?"

"I need something."

"What?" He gave me a small, lopsided smirk.

"You." My head snapped up to finally meet his eyes. Oh! Something alien pulled deep into my groin as I bit my lip. How can someone that looks really good sound this really good?

"I..er..sir?" I stuttered. I tried my hardest not to blush but my face was getting warmer and warmer by second.

"Yes. I need you to work here in my office. So I don't have to keep ringing to you," He commanded, smiling devilishly. I wish the ground would just swallow me up. I looked down.

Work in the same office as him? I stood my ground as he got up from his chair. He slowly made his way towards me and I couldn't move. He neared me and within seconds we were face to face. I could feel his minty breath on me. I bit my bottom lip.

"Is there a problem?" He asked, daringly.