Mr. Blackwood’s POV
I was in the elevator, headed up to the fourth floor . I’d arrived earlier than usual, specifically so I’d have a reason to be hard on her. She’d been trying so hard to be perfect lately, and something about that made me want to test her further.
I checked my phone as I stepped into the hallway. 8:30am. No way she’d already be in.
I unlocked my office with my keys. Cold, quiet, exactly how I liked it. I opened the blinds, letting the city light spread out below.
I settled into my chair and dialed her extension. No answer. A small, satisfied smile crossed my face at least now I had a reason to be difficult.
A week in, and I still hadn’t decided whether to keep her or let her go. Of course I wanted her to stay. Close enough that I could keep an eye on exactly what she was up to.
It was harder than it should have been, pretending not to notice every time she walked into a room. Pretending to be cold, just to make her pay a little longer before I ever explained myself.
Before I could turn my computer on, my door opened and she came into my office holding my coffee.
She was walking up to me like an angel that just descended from above. I could imagine her crawling on my desk with her buttons half open revealing those perfect huge tits with pointed nipples waiting for my hands to grab and twist them so hard.
"Good morning Mr. Blackwood." Her voice cut through my thoughts.
"I brought your coffee. Just how you like it."
"Hm." I cleared my throat. "Why are you coming in so late? I got here before you." The words came out clumsier than I meant them to.
"Sir, I was actually here before you. I went to get your coffee, but the line at the cafe was much today, so it took a little longer than usual." She said it plainly, almost like she’d been waiting all week for the chance to prove me wrong.
I looked for something to say and came up empty. I took a sip. Perfect.
Why is she acting so perfect today?
"The coffee’s not hot enough," I said. A lie. "But I’ll manage."
"Sorry, sir."
"It’s been a week now. Based on what I’ve seen, I need to make a decision."
Before I could finish, she cut in.
"I’m sorry, sir, but I really need this job." She said it quietly, eyes fixed somewhere near the floor.
"I believe you were told not to speak unless spoken to."
She went still, said nothing, just nodded. If I could just walk over there right now and feel her body.
"For the first few days, you were sloppy. Too relaxed for my liking. But you’ve improved. My schedule’s up to date, and I haven’t missed a meal since you started. That counts for something."
"You’re better than most of the ones before you, too."
Her whole face lit up. "Thank you, sir."
"So.. for now, you stay." I let a small smile show. "Don’t get comfortable, though. You’re still replaceable if you slip."
"My eyes are on you."
"Thank you again, sir. I won’t let you down."
Something in me eased at how genuinely relieved she looked. I’d done that. But I couldn’t let her see that I wasn’t nearly as rigid as she assumed.
"You can go back to your desk." I looked away. "Get me the financial report from the last campaign, from the accountant."
"Yes, sir."
She turned to leave, and all I could think of was my huge cock in her ass cheeks.
Get it together. She’s your assistant, for God’s sake.
Still, I couldn’t shake her off my head. If she hadn’t thrown up on me the night things were getting good between us, I probably would’ve told her the moment she walked into my office as my new hire. But I was her boss now, and she was going to pay a little longer for ruining a very expensive shirt.
She came back with the file and returned to her desk for the rest of the day.
**********
We were at Maison Noir for lunch. Normally I ate alone, and she took her breaks in the cafeteria, but today I wanted her with me. She’d resisted at first, but I reminded her, gently, that I was still her boss.
"You can sit." She eyed me like she suspected I was up to something.
"Sit. I don’t bite." She lowered herself into the chair, still tense.
The waiter came for my order, and I told her to give hers too. She hesitated before finally deciding.
"Thank you for the meal, sir." She smiled genuinely, for the first time since she’d started. Not the polite, careful smile she usually gave me at the office.
"So. Where did you work before this, and why’d you leave?"
She glanced up, still avoiding real eye contact, though I could read the mix of nerves and something else underneath it.
"Wolfe & Sons, in Chicago. Before I came back here. New Jersey’s actually my hometown."
"Not bad." I could tell the question was making her uncomfortable.
"Why’d you leave?"
She let out a short laugh. "Funny story. My fiancé cheated on me with a coworker. I might have talked him up a little too much to everyone I knew, so the fallout was... a lot. I couldn’t keep working in the same building as either of them. Had to quit."
"And honestly, my whole life back there was tangled up with him. He wouldn’t give me space, kept showing up everywhere, begging for forgiveness, wanting to fix things. I couldn’t keep living like that. So I left."
Fiancé. Not just a boyfriend, then. That explained the mood I’d caught off her the night we met at the club.
"When was this?"
She gave me a look that said enough questions, but I didn’t care.
"I moved a few weeks ago," she said, sipping her drink.
Good. He ruined it. Which means she’s single.