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Eden
Ok, so maybe my roommate’s stripper heels weren’t the best choice for my first day of my new temp job, but it was these or battered sneakers. As I wobbled into the elevator, heading for HR, I wasn’t sure sneakers wouldn’t have been the wiser choice.
After a ten-minute meeting, and finding out my assignment, I was sure I’d made the wrong choice.
Twentieth floor.
Mr Aslan’s office.
The CEO’s office… and I was wearing stripper heels.
Hey, at least they were black.
In the yearthat I’d been temping, I’d worked in a whole lot of fancy, high-rise offices right in the heart of the city. They were all interchangeable after a certain amount of time, minimalist, sleek, facelessly corporate. Aslan Securities was different. For one, it wasn’t all glass and white walls inside. The hallways were decked in rich, vibrant colours, and the floors were warm, polished wood. Art lined the walls, and not boring, office art-lite, but real paintings. Evocative and even thought-provoking, I found myself stopping to stare at more than one. In my long past days of being a fine arts student, I’d have loved to linger over the interesting choices, but today, I had a job to do. The time in my life for wandering around art galleries was long gone.
By the time I reached the top floor, the shoes were already pinching my feet. It was terrible timing. For a year, I’d had a trusty pair of black flats to wear to work, which while being ugly as sin, had been totally serviceable. Last night, I’d discovered the prominent hole in the toe.
“All that money you saved walking to work instead of taking the bus and now you have to buy new shoes. It’s a false economy, I’m telling you!” Margot, my roommate, and friendly personal critic had remarked, before handing over the torture chambers currently strapped to my feet.
I reached Aslan’s end of the office. I say end, as from the entryway to his assistant’s desk, outside a huge wooden door, was enough space for another department altogether. When I got there, the assistant desk was busy, with a young guy about my age packing things into a box.
“If you’re wondering why there’s so much space to tramp through between the elevator and here, you’ve not met your new boss yet,” the man remarked. “I’m Luke, the ghost of your future,” he deadpanned, holding a hand out to me. He looked me up and down and pulled a sympathetic face. “Oh honey, Mr Aslan is going to eat you alive. You might even last less time than me, and I set a record,” he said.
Ok, so this wasn’t exactly what I wanted to hear in the first few minutes of work, but I was used to people underestimating me.
“I’m sure it’ll be ok, if not, hey, at least you don’t have to put up with him,” I said with a bright smile. Terminal cheerfulness was my go to in times of trouble. Nothing annoyed people more than an intimidatingly cheerful disposition. Luke narrowed his eyes at me.
“Don’t get me wrong, I wish you no ill will. I’m just bitter,” he said with a sigh, clearing the rest of things into the box. I softened toward him a fraction.
“I get it. I’m just a temp though, so I don’t expect much,” I told him, sinking onto the edge of the desk to take the pressure of my toes.
“That’s good. Keep your expectations low, and Aslan will still terrify you,” Luke muttered, and then seemed to pause, thinking a moment. “In fact, grab a notepad and let me help you out. We don’t have long, quick.”
I dug one out of my bag, intrigued.
“So, he likes his coffee hot, scaldingly hot, and his minutes need to be on his desk twenty to thirty minutes before he tells you he needs them. Do not, under any circumstances, put through a call from someone he doesn’t want to speak to. That includes random press, friends, family, dates… anyone who isn’t on his list for the day. It doesn’t matter how urgent it sounds.”
I scribbled away as Luke spoke. Most of this seemed like common sense, but it was good to know how much of a stickler the boss would be, before learning first hand.
“Don’t bring private issues into work, don’t cough, or look sick around him, or smile too much,” Luke finished.
“Smile too much?”
“Yeah, he hates it.”
“I’m a smiley person, and I’m pretty sure that isn’t a fireable offence,” I said, folding the notepad and tucking it into my bag.
“You’d be surprised. Good luck, you’re going to need it,” Luke said, gathering up his box, and saluting me. He wandered away down the endless hall toward the far away elevator and I turned my attention to the empty desk. As I sat down and adjusted my chair, I heard a commotion coming from the hall. A deep voice spoke, a rapid fire monologue. The next moment, a dark head appeared, and then the rest of him. Hot damn. This was Khan Aslan? The man who strode through the space before me was tall and broad, his black suit fitting his powerful build perfectly. He walked with a confidence that I’d never seen before. It was reserved only for mafia dons in TV shows and billionaire athletes. He looked like a man who knew his place, his worth, and he’d show you, if you dared question it. I couldn’t focus on his words. They were rattling out his stubbled lips, ten to the dozen. He turned his head toward me as he strode past and stopped mid-step. His skin was a warm gold, and his dark eyebrows drew down in a slash of curiosity, over eagle like grey eyes. He was handsome in a way that punched me in the gut. I sat up straighter as he lowered the phone from his ear and stared at me. I felt completely laid bare by that look. He took in my hair, and face, my neck, and down, my shoulders, across my arms. A scowl remained in place on his impressive brow the entire time.
“You are not Lewis,” he said finally, once his eyes had inspected every inch of me in sight. Lewis?
“Erm, I think you mean Luke,” I offered, unsure of what else to say. His frown deepened. “Yes, you’re right. I’m not Lewis. My name is Eden Davis. I’m your new assistant,” I said, standing up to offer him my hand. He stared at it like I had offered him a coiled snake to hold. Slowly, with deadly grace, he approached. Up close, the man was even more beautiful. He had a scar across his eyebrow, and one white line bisecting his top lip, very faint, and old, and yet, it gave him an air of danger. He held out his hand to shake mine, and I spied the hint of black ink hiding just up his cuff.
“Eden Davis,” he repeated.
“Yes, you can call me Eden if you’re so inclined,” I babbled away. Once more, that frown flashed across his expressive features. “What should I address you as?” I asked, knowing it was always better to handle these things up front.
“Mr Aslan will suffice,” he said, in that deep, low voice that was made of pure alpha maleness. Right, well, that put me in my place. I nodded, keeping a pleasant smile on my face. His hand gripped mine, and it was warm. Hell, his skin was downright hot, and his palm enveloped my hand entirely. This man was big all over, and I was sure that these hands were going to feature in some extremely unprofessional fantasies later. Too bad he was king asshole, according to his former assistant.
“Of course, Mr Aslan. Is there anything you need me to do for you just now?” I asked, plastering on my most professional veneer. Bounce your bad mood of that, you grinch.
“Your job,” Khan Aslan said, before dropping my hand as if I’d burned him. He turned and strode into his office, and the door banged unceremoniously behind him. Well, that was that. A great first meeting, if I’d ever had one. It was so quiet in the wake of his violent energy that I could have almost believed I’d imagined him, if not for the subtle scent of his expensive cologne suffusing the air in his wake. I tried not to breathe it in too much as I sat down and turned on the computer on the desk. I took a deep breath, my temper rising at being so summarily dismissed in the first few minutes of meeting my new boss, and forced it out through my nose, holding my rictus smile in place. This was temporary, a month at the most. Kill them with kindness, Eden. Kill him with kindness.
