Chapter 2
Miranda’s POV
I stood there, frozen, unsure if I was hallucinating or if this was really happening.
My new boss, undeniably good-looking, was practically devouring a woman with red lipstick and even redder heels on top of his father’s old mahogany desk. My late boss’s desk. The audacity.
The moment his eyes met mine, I answered him. “I’m the Assistant. Your Assistant.”
His face morphed into a scowl. “Where are your manners? Ever heard of knocking?”
I blinked, still trying to process everything. “I did knock. Several times.”
“Then maybe try waiting for a response,” he snapped, adjusting his tie as if that made him any less inappropriate.
The woman rolled her eyes and clicked her tongue. She grabbed her handbag and sauntered toward the door, but not before giving me a once-over that said, You’re beneath me.
I clenched my jaw and held back the urge to throw something. As if today hadn’t started off chaotic enough.
He didn’t even look at me when he said, “What’s the name?”
I blinked. “I’m Kayla. Kayla Domingo.”
He turned slowly, eyebrows raised. “Kayla Domingo?”
“Yes. I’ve been working here for three years. I was your father’s assistant before he—”
“Why are you still my Assistant then?”
I raised a brow in confusion.
He suddenly waved his hand. “Save the sob story. Just make sure I don’t regret keeping you around.”
Charming.
As soon as the woman was out of the office and the door clicked shut, I took a breath, reminding myself that my grandfather was the priority here. I wasn’t about to let this smug playboy distract me.
“I actually came in here because I need to take a day or two off,” I started. “It’s urgent.”
He didn’t even look up. “Get me coffee. Black.”
“I—what?”
“You heard me. Coffee. Now.”
Clenching my fists, I turned and practically marched to the breakroom. The audacity of this man was unbelievable. His father died two weeks ago and he didn’t even come for the funeral, only for him to arrive today and assume the post of the CEO without a word.
When he asked why I was his Assistant, I had to force myself not to retort? Was I supposed to die too?
What arrogance?!
Not only was he making out with a woman in a work environment but he was also being a jerk.
I should probably ask him if I was also allowed to make out with men too in my office since he was setting a bad example.
My former boss, Mr. Aldridge, was a super nice man. He was a good boss and I’ll always miss him.
I wasn’t even sure this new boss of mine, Jeremiah or whatever his name was, remembered my name. His smug, arrogant face flashed in my mind as I prepared the coffee. I didn’t bother asking how he liked it. I made it how most people take it, some sugar, a splash of milk.
Maybe he had a heart, somewhere buried under those layers of expensive cologne and narcissism.
I returned minutes later, knocked again, because clearly, I had to be perfect around this man, and stepped in.
He didn’t even look up when I placed the coffee on his desk.
“What is this?” he asked flatly.
“Coffee.”
He took one sip, grimaced, and set the cup down with a look of sheer disgust.
“I said black. No milk. This has milk in it.”
“I—I’m sorry. I’ll make another one,” I said quickly.
He didn’t say thank you. Of course not. I turned and left, biting my tongue.
Back in the breakroom, I poured out the coffee and made a fresh one. No milk. No sugar. Just black.
As I returned, I took a deep breath, balancing the mug carefully. When I stepped into the office, I gently shut the door behind me and turned, only to be met with his chest.
I gasped and stumbled back slightly, and in my flustered state, the coffee sloshed out of the mug and spilled right onto his perfectly tailored, undoubtedly expensive shirt.
“Oh my God!” I exclaimed, reaching for tissues, anything, everything. “I’m so sorry!”
He stepped back, looked down at his shirt, and then up at me with fire in his eyes.
“Give me one reason,” he said coldly, his voice low and dangerous, “why I shouldn’t fire you right now.”
I froze, heart pounding hard against my ribcage, rage sinking into the deepest part of my stomach.
Without hesitation, I announced. “I want to resign.”
