Noah
I arrived at the office a little earlier than usual that morning, my heart hammering in my chest. Today was my first official day as Mr. Carter's secretary, and I had no idea whether I'd survive the morning without embarrassing myself completely. I straightened my tie one last time, checked my reflection in the glossy elevator door, and reminded myself that I had survived his office once already. Barely.
When I stepped into his office, he was already there, leaning casually against the edge of his desk with that infuriating calm air that made my stomach twist. He looked up from his laptop, his piercing eyes scanning me, and I had to suppress the urge to shrink into the floor.
"Good morning, Mr. Carter," I muttered, trying to sound professional.
"Morning," he replied, voice cool as ice, though I caught the slightest hint of amusement at the corner of his mouth. "Let's get started. You know your duties. Don't disappoint me."
I swallowed and nodded, taking a seat across from him. Everything was overwhelming: the sleek black desk, the walls lined with certificates and awards, the soft hum of the city through the floor-to-ceiling windows. I had read through the agenda for the day last night, and I had a few suggestions in mind, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he would see I could be useful.
When the opportunity presented itself, I spoke cautiously. "Mr. Carter… I was thinking… maybe we could implement a more streamlined filing system for the client reports. If we organize by priority and deadline, it might save time during board meetings."
He raised an eyebrow, regarding me silently for a moment that felt like forever. My palms grew sweaty, but I kept my voice steady.
"Go on," he said finally, leaning back in his chair.
I elaborated on the process, describing the color-coded system and the digital archive setup I had used in my previous job. I felt like I was treading on thin ice, but I had to believe I knew what I was doing.
To my surprise, he didn't scoff or dismiss me. Instead, he tapped a finger on his desk, thoughtful. "That… might actually work. Efficient. I like it."
I blinked, unsure if I'd heard him correctly. "You… you like it?" I asked, my voice catching slightly.
He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. "Yes. Not many people actually think before speaking in this office. Most just nod and do the bare minimum. You're… different, Noah."
Heat rushed to my face. Was this… praise? From him? I tried not to let my expression betray my surprise. "Thank you, Mr. Carter," I said, forcing a bow of my head.
He gave a curt nod and returned to his laptop, but I noticed the faint smirk lingering at the corner of his mouth. I dared a small smile of my own, feeling a flicker of confidence. Maybe I could do this. Maybe I could survive.
By noon, he had approved my suggestion and even asked me to help draft the implementation plan for the rest of the team. After hours of typing, coordinating, and answering his occasional sharp questions, he leaned back and looked at me.
"You've been… useful today. Lunch," he said abruptly. "I'm going out. Bring yourself."
I hesitated for a fraction of a second, unsure if this was a trap, but I nodded. "Yes, sir."
The restaurant was upscale, quiet, and private, the kind of place where people like Mr. Carter dined without interruptions. We sat across from each other, the tension between us strong, but strangely… bearable. I was trying not to make a fool of myself, careful with everything I said and did, even my body language was measured.
Midway through the meal, I noticed one of the waiters lingering a little too long, his eyes following me as he smiled a little too knowingly.
My stomach sank. I was used to getting this sort of attraction from men and women, but I didn't expect it to follow me to work. Or what was supposed to be a break from work.
I tried to ignore it, but the waiter suddenly leaned closer, pretending to serve me. "Hey there… you're cute," he whispered, his hand brushing near mine while refilling my water.
I froze, cheeks burning, and glanced at Mr. Carter. His eyes, sharp and stormy now, locked onto the waiter. There was a dangerous calm to him, the kind that made my chest tighten.
"Excuse me," Mr. Carter said, voice low but cutting, "I don't think that's appropriate. Leave him alone."
The waiter stuttered, visibly shocked that Mr. Carter had caught his actions. He apologized and retreated, hurriedly. I could barely breathe, still staring at Mr. Carter in stunned silence.
"Do you see what I mean?" he asked, his voice almost casual again, but the storm behind his eyes was frightening. "Some people think they can just… take liberties. I don't tolerate that."
I swallowed hard, nodding mutely, my face flaming. "Y-yes… sir." The words already escaped my lips before I realized how mundane they sounded.
He waved his hand slightly, dismissing the incident. "Let's go."
I wanted to ask him if we weren't getting lucnch anymore, but I was too frightened to speak. I could feel the anger radiating off him and I didn't want to poke him further.
As if sensing my thoughts, we stopped by another restaurant to get lunch, based on Mr. Carter's instruction. But this time we ordered takeaway. Mr. Carter made it clear I was to remain in the car while the driver went inside to collect the food.
While we waited, he didn't speak to me once, not a single glance, not a single comment. I was relieved when the driver returned with our meals and we the car started again.
As we drove back. I sat tensely in the passenger seat, every muscle on edge, feeling the silence press down on me.
The car ride back was silent at first, and I thought I could finally catch my breath. But then he spoke, and the words hit me like a thunderclap.
"Stop parading yourself like that," he said without preamble. "Like you want everyone to want you. It's… irritating."
My throat went dry. "I—I don't… sir, I wasn't—"
He cut me off with a sharp glance, and I turned my gaze towards the window side, only to realize the road we were taking was… familiar. My house. Panic surged through me.
"I'm… I'm sorry, Mr. Carter. Please don't…please don't sack me. I'm sorry for… everything earlier," I stammered, my hands gripping the seat.
He exhaled sharply, leaning back. "Stop apologizing all the time. It infuriates me."
I opened my mouth, ready to apologize again, but something in his tone froze the words. I swallowed, nodding, forcing myself to stay silent.
After a long pause, he spoke again. "I'm not sacking you, Noah. I'm dropping you off because I noticed your temperature is slightly elevated. You need to go home and rest."
I blinked, overwhelmed. Why was this man so unpredictable? One moment he was upset with me and the next he was concerned about my health? What even was going on?
I tried not to dwell on the thoughts that were clouding my mind. "Th-thank you… sir," I managed, finally allowing myself to relax slightly.
The car stopped, and I got out, still processing everything. Only then did I notice someone standing at the doorway of my house.
The last person I expected to see.
It took a moment for my brain to catch up. My girlfriend, or maybe ex, was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes narrowing as she studied me.
I stood there, unsure of what to say to her. One moment she wanted me, the next she didn't. I had never understood our relationship fully. And now, after everything that had happened with Mr. Carter, I had no idea how to even approach her.
I swallowed hard, glancing at the car. Mr. Carter's dark figure in the passenger's seat looked completely unreadable. For a moment, I thought I caught a flash of anger in his features. But it was too dark to tell.
I took a shaky step toward the house, my mind spinning with confusion, embarrassment, and something else I couldn't quite name. The day had started with me trying to survive as his secretary, and now… it was ending with me standing frozen, caught between the storm of Mr. Carter's authority and the unresolved tension at my own front door.
I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to center myself. Whatever happened next, I knew one thing: nothing about today had prepared me for the storm that was Mr. Carter, or the chaos that awaited me at home.