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As the car rose, so did my anxiety and the pressure in my chest.
It was my first time up on this floor, so I forced myself to take it in because who knew if it was going to be my last time. The floors were the same as the lobby and they sparkled under the lights. Most of the walls up here were glass, too, although they were covered in privacy film so you couldn’t really see inside. It was the end of the day and seemed pretty quiet up here.
I realized I had no idea where Ben’s office actually was, so I wandered down the empty hallway, the only sound was my anxious breath and the soft step of my shoes. The administrative assistant's desk was empty. I realized that it was after office hours, so of course everyone else would be gone. At the end of the hallway was a large set of doors that screamed “President’s office” to me. I looked around and didn’t see anything, so I took a chance and opened the door.
The office was deserted. It was dark, but I could see some vintage furniture.
I quickly turned away frustrated. Where the hell was Ben’s office?
I figured there was a good chance I was going to get fired, until I heard a familiar voice boom through the hallways. It was Ben.
Left with no leads, I followed the voice cautiously, though I was very uncomfortable at the distressed tone in his words. I had no desire to overhear anything.
“There are limits to this, and I thought we agreed that we would never stoop so low,” his voice dropped to his normal volume, but it sounded a lot more deadly. I peeked around the corner and saw another set of doors, slightly ajar. I slowly approached and saw him sitting behind a large, blonde wood desk.
“Well, my apologies, but I refuse to conform to your perspectives. Good day.” Ben hung up his phone and tossed it onto the desk.
I didn’t even realize that I was actually staring at him until he stared back at me. His eyes filled with both confusion and exasperation as I stumbled forward, opening the doors completely.
“Um…” I muttered, trying to regain my balance. “Hi…” I tried to play off the fact that I obviously heard a huge chunk of his heated phone conversation. Maybe he would shake it off and let me off the hook?
But Ben Oviatt remained as still as a statue, staring me down. His eyes looked angry and his body language looked even angrier.
Oh, I was definitely getting fired now.
“I’m so sorry. I just wanted to—” I fumbled my words. That really wasn’t the best move when you’ve just got caught. A rational and sane person would think that the best way to act like you didn’t just get caught was to actually play it cool—not be a bumbling mess. But it was too late. I found myself shakily patting my pockets for the flash drive where my revised edit was in, and even then I couldn’t find it to save my life.
And boy, did I really need to save my life right then.
Ben simply took a deep breath and sat down in his very expensive office chair. I tried to scan the rest of the office and take in the pair of sofas that looked like they cost more than my entire college education—each. The bookshelves had spotlights and held framed pictures of Ben with some very famous and very important people, along with some old leather-bound books. And the rug on the floor felt luxurious even through my shoes.
This was definitely the office of a powerful man.
And then there was the man himself. The way Ben wore a suit was nothing short of magnificent. He looked so at ease in the navy blue material. I tried to get a sense of how old Ben was, definitely young for his position, but a few years older than me. Even after whatever that conversation I didn’t actually mean to overhear was, he looked impeccable. Not a hair was out of a place, not a wrinkle dare crossed his suit jacket.
He looked completely like the visionary he was.
I started to wonder if Ben was single. Who could actually hold Ben’s attention long enough to make a real relationship work? For some reason, it was on the tip of my tongue to ask, but I thought better and swallowed the question.
“So,” he said, any semblance of patience gone from his voice. “Did you expect me to guess why you’re here or do you have something for me?”
He leaned back against his chair and the crisp white shirt he wore stretched across his broad chest. Damn, he definitely worked out. When did he even find the time?
“Yes, of course,” I said, the words rushing out as I quickly walked to his desk. “I—I took your advice and included more James Jensen in the report.” It had killed me to add more of that sleazeball. But what could I tell Ben? That he was wrong?
I placed the flash drive in his open palm, skimming his skin with my finger tips. Every part of my body felt the contact and I jolted from the awareness. I hesitated before moving my hand away.
I cleared my throat, willing the blush away from my skin.
“You were totally right. He had to have more screen time. After all, it’s his place and he is the celebrity. I hope you find this updated version satisfactory.” Sometimes, I didn’t know how I formulated words under pressure. I could feel every inch of my body about to combust from this pressure, but somehow, I always found myself to be able to remain calm and composed on the outside.
I felt myself subtly lean closer to Ben, again taking in the smell of his cologne. It was intoxicating.
Ben grunted in response. He had a somewhat frustrating habit of doing that. Sometimes, I preferred that he’d rather throw my stuff away in front of my face than all of this indifference. At least then I’d know if I did something right or not. But I tried to not let it get the best of me. He was always known for his nonchalance but strict standards. I simply wasn’t used to it yet.
Seeing as how he didn’t have anything more to say, I began to step away from his sleek desk. “If that’s all, sir, then I’m going to head back—”
“No,” Ben cut me off firmly, smoothly removing the flash drive and setting it down on his desk, next to his coffee cup.. Damn, even his coffee cup looked designer. “Sit down,” he ordered, and that sent a different type of shiver up my spine. I felt the low vibrations of his voice wind through my body.
