Kapitel 8: Chapter Eight- Office Blabbermouth
A heavy silence falls between us after my refusal. I hear my mother's soft intake of breath, a sound that usually signals defeat, but today there's something resigned in her tone.
"Aria," she starts, softer now, as if speaking to a child on the brink of tears. "This isn't just about you. It's about the whole family. You know how much we need this."
My fingers dig into the couch cushions as frustration begins to creep in. The weight of her words is like a constant drumming in the back of my mind. But the idea of marrying Philip—Mr. Boring McBoring himself—makes my stomach turn.
"I know, Mom, but..." The words catch in my throat. I shake my head even though she can't see me. "There's another way. I'm already working on it."
"Just tell me where you are, Aria. We're worried. Your father thinks you should come back home."
"MOM! FOR THE HUNDREDTH TIME, I'M NOT TELLING YOU WHERE I AM."
The words burst out before I can stop them, my voice louder than I intended. I gasp, shocked by my own outburst. I never raise my voice at my mother, but something inside me snaps at her persistence. I'm done being cornered and pushed. The silence on her end is deafening.
When she finally speaks, there is disappointment in her voice. "I hope you know what you're doing, Aria. For all our sakes."
The call ends, and leaves the familiar weight of guilt pressing against my chest. My eyes move to the clock. It's late.
Just as I'm about to return to Mr. Crane's schedule, my phone buzzes again, this time with a text message. My eyes squint as I read the sender's name- Unknown.
"You looked good today, Aria."
I stare at the screen, my breath catching in my throat as the message sinks in. The words are simple, yet they carry a weight that makes my heart race. My mind jumps immediately to Mr. Crane. He's the only one I'd been with yesterday, and though he's always been professional—well, mostly—my pulse quickens at the thought that maybe, just maybe, he'd sent it.
A blush creeps up my neck, and I bite my lip as the corners of my mouth lift slightly. Why would he send me this? The idea warms my chest, sending a rush of corny, romantic thoughts swirling in my head.
Did he find me that attractive?
Attractive enough to send me such a personal text after my first official day of work? I shake my head, brushing the foolish idea away as quickly as it came. Yet, the hope lingers.
I try to shake off the conversation and stand up to scavenge through my kitchen. Dinner tonight? A bowl of instant noodles. I sigh, remembering the days of lavish dinners and endless choices. Back when 'what's for dinner?' didn't end with 'whatever's not expired.'
'I need to go grocery shopping soon,' I think, filling the bowl with boiling water. The steam curls around my face, almost as if it's whispering 'what are you doing with your life?' Thanks for the reminder, noodles.
---
The morning air is a little chilly as I get ready for work. I put on a fitted gray pencil skirt and black blouse. If Mr. Crane thinks I looked good yesterday, I'll look even better today. I smirk at my reflection, applying a dash of lipstick before heading out.
The little diner down the street is nearly empty, the smell of bacon and eggs drawing me in. The waitress, a kind woman with a tired smile, takes my order with a nod.
When I get to the office, Mr. Crane is already seated at his desk. His navy suit clings to him like a second skin, showcasing every sharp line and angle. Our gazes meet through the glass wall, and I swear I see the tiniest lift of his lips before it's gone.
"Good morning, Mr. Crane," I say as I step in, pretending not to notice my heart racing like a caffeinated hamster.
"Morning, Miss Cole. Sit. We have a full day ahead. Have you checked my schedule?"
"Yes, sir." I rattle off his appointments, resisting the urge to add 'Your Highness' at the end of every line.
"Reschedule the stakeholders' meeting to tomorrow," he says, handing me a folder. "Phone numbers are in here."
Time flies as I make call after call, convincing each business giant that tomorrow will be just as productive as today would've been. I'm halfway through typing up a report when his voice slices through the silence.
"Miss Cole, that report should have been on my desk fifteen minutes ago."
"Almost done," I mutter, the click-clack of my keyboard matching the drumbeat of my annoyance.
"You can be so slow sometimes," he snaps, his tone sharp enough to sting. He looks at me and frowns. "And why do you have so much makeup on anyway?"
Makeup? It's literally just lipstick. I purse my lips, suppressing the urge to roll my eyes. "If you don't like it, I can—"
"It's fine," he cuts in, though his expression suggests otherwise. He scans me from head to toe before adding, "I do think you need a wardrobe allowance though. You've worn black twice in a row. It's quite... repetitive."
I take a calming breath, fighting the urge to retort. Instead, the words tumble out of me without warning. "Considering the message last night, I thought—"
He freezes mid-sentence, his eyes narrowing. "Message?"
Wait it wasn't him?
"The one that said I looked good yesterday," I say.
He leans back in his chair, eyebrow lifting like I just told him I saw a unicorn. "I didn't send you any message." His expression shifts to mild amusement. "Don't you have my number saved?"
"It was from an unknown number," I reply, heat crawling up my neck. "But I thought... I was with you all day yesterday."
He smirks, a rare sight. "Maybe it was the driver?" He suggests jokingly.
I'm thinking of something else though. A chill runs down my spine and I remember the memory of feeling watched a few days ago. 'Is someone watching me and playing pranks'? I look away, fidgeting with the pen in my hand.
His eyes flicker with something like concern. I catch him glancing at me, softening for a moment before he returns to his usual stone-cold demeanor. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," I whisper, though the tightness in my chest betrays me.
But Mr. Crane doesn't look convinced. The tension between us thickens and just as I'm about to launch into a distraction about the report, he stands up abruptly.
"I need to take this call," he says, his tone clipped as he strides toward the door, his back to me. I catch a glimpse of his sharp jawline, the way his suit fits him perfectly, and a strange flutter of anticipation blooms in my chest despite everything.
As the door closes behind him, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. I've barely had time to process my own thoughts when a woman comes in. She's the blonde from the conference room I saw on the day I came for the interview.
Today she's dressed in an emerald green gown, mirroring the color of my eyes, that is hugged to her upper body down to her waist before spreading out in a flare which stops at her knees. Her sleek, blonde hair falls in waves to her waist. She's so beautiful.
"Where is Mr Crane?" She asks, her tone sharp.
"He's out for a call."
"Let me see your ID."
I fish it out from my purse and show it to her.
"Okay. Give him these then." She hands me some files and moves to walk out of the room.
As if after a second thought, she turns back around and extends a hand. Her face is more friendly this time. "I'm Ms Harper. Head of the PR department. You can call me Jessy. It's nice to meet you."
I accept her hand and she gives me a firm shake.
"Is this your office now?" she asks, her eyebrow raised and a teasing smirk playing on her lips.
"Uh, yes?" I reply, slightly taken aback. There's something about her confidence that's intimidating.
"Interesting choice," she remarks, leaning against the doorframe. "He always liked them close anyway."
My eyebrows knit together in confusion. "What do you mean by that?"
"You do know the office has been buzzing since your arrival right? Oh you wouldn't know. I'm sure he never lets you out of this office."
"I still don't understand your point." I say, my tone matching hers.
"Oh, you know," she waves her hand dismissively, her tone breezy. "Just the usual office stuff. You know why he keeps you here, right?"
I shake my head, trying to play it cool, but Jessy's amused smile tells me I'm about to be blindsided.
"Mr. Crane has a reputation, darling. He's got a thing for secretaries." She leans in closer, lowering her voice like she's revealing state secrets. "All his secretaries end up in his bed."
I blink, processing her words like they're in a foreign language. "Wait, what? Are you serious?"
"Dead serious. He fires anyone who says no." Her smile widens, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "It's like a rite of passage or something. Welcome to the jungle!"
"Exciting?" I exclaim, trying to wrap my mind around this revelation. "You think I'm going to...?"
"Oh, I wouldn't worry too much!" Jessy leans back, crossing her arms. "You've got time. You're still new here. He always keeps his secretaries close, like dangerous little pets."
"Can we not call me a pet?" I retort, flustered and slightly horrified.
"Relax, I mean it in a fun way! Just think of yourself as an exclusive limited edition," she chuckles, rolling her eyes playfully. "But really, he doesn't let his secretaries interact with anyone outside this office. It's a little cozy prison, if you ask me."
"Why would he do that?" I ask, genuinely curious.
"Because he likes to play games. And when he's done with a secretary, he just moves on to the next one. They all have to face the same fate."
I feel my mouth drop open. "But I thought he was just... a tough boss?"
"Oh, honey, he's tough, alright." She flips her hair back with dramatic flair. "But the kind of tough that leaves a trail of broken hearts and freshly inked 'do not hire' warnings."
"Wait, so you're saying he—he sleeps with all his secretaries?" My voice is barely above a whisper, disbelief mingling with something dangerously close to embarrassment.
"Not just sleeps, they have a little fun before they get the boot. It's like a game to him," she replies, her tone teasing. "Maybe you're next on the chopping block! How exciting!"
"Exciting?" I exclaim, completely horrified and utterly flabbergasted. "You think I'm going to...?"
"Don't flatter yourself too much! You're just a candidate," she teases, a wicked smile spreading across her face.
"Why are you telling me all these?" I ask after a long pause.
"Just to give you the heads up. Girl to girl."
She continues to yap on and I stare at her blankly with just one thought in mind.
How did such a blabbermouth get the role of the PR head ?
I hear the unmistakable sound of the door opening again. I turn, heart racing, only to see Mr. Crane standing there, his expression darkened and eyes blazing with fury.
"What's going on here?" he growls, the atmosphere shifting instantly.
Jessy turns, her smile fading as she sees his furious glare. "Uh-oh," I hear her mutter under her breath.
I'm caught between shock and fear, my heart pounding. Is what Jessy said true? If it is, is he expecting me to do it with him too?
AUTORENGEDANKEN 
TheEnchantrexxx
TheEnchantrexxx A kinda slow chapeter. Trust me, there will be more drama in the next one ;-)
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