storyforsleep

Clara

The air on the fiftieth floor of Sterling Enterprises was always

ten degrees colder than the rest of the building. It wasn't a

thermostat issue. It was a CEO issue.

I checked my reflection in the elevator doors before they

opened. My bright yellow cardigan stood out like a warning

sign against the bleak, monochromatic gray walls of the

executive floor. I adjusted my messy bun, took a deep breath,

and stepped out.

It was exactly 6:45 AM. I was fifteen minutes early for my

second week as Executive Assistant to Alexander Sterling, the

man the business world affectionately dubbed "The Ice King."

Affectionately, of course, meaning everyone was terrified of

him.

Five assistants had quit in the last six months. The longest

lasted three weeks. I needed this job to last a year. The medical

bills stacked on my parents’ kitchen table haunted my dreams,

and the salary Alexander Sterling paid was high enough to

wipe them out completely. I was not going to quit. No matter

how impossible he made it.

I dropped my bag on my desk—a small wooden island outside

the massive glass walls of his office. I placed a tiny potted

succulent next to my monitor. A tiny act of rebellion in a

sterile world.

Before I could even log into my computer, the intercom on my

desk crackled.

"Miss Hayes."

His voice was deep, smooth, and completely devoid of warmth.

It didn't matter that it was barely dawn. He was already here,

already working, already demanding perfection.

"Good morning, Mr. Sterling," I said, pressing the button. I

injected as much obnoxious cheer into my voice as I could

muster.

"In my office."

A click, and then silence. No 'please.' No 'when you have a

moment.' Just a command.

I grabbed my notepad and walked toward the glass doors.

Alexander was standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows,

staring out at the Manhattan skyline. He wore a dark, custom-

tailored suit that fit his broad shoulders perfectly. His dark

hair was meticulously styled, and his jawline was sharp

enough to cut glass. He was, objectively speaking, the most

attractive man I had ever seen. He was also the most

infuriating.

He didn't turn around when I entered.

"The Q3 financial reports are disorganized," he said. "The

margins are off by a fraction of a percent in the European

division, and the projections for the Vance merger are entirely

speculative."

"I can have the accounting department re-run the numbers

immediately, sir," I said, my pen hovering over my notepad.

He finally turned. His piercing icy-gray eyes locked onto mine.

There was no tiredness in them, only a sharp, calculating

intelligence. He looked at my yellow cardigan for a split

second, a slight tightening around his eyes the only indication

he had noticed it.

"I don't want the accounting department to do it," he said

softly. "I want you to do it."

I blinked. "Me, sir? I'm your executive assistant, not an

accountant."

"You have a degree in business administration, do you not?"

"Yes, but—"

"Then you should be capable of basic financial analysis," he

interrupted. He walked over to his massive oak desk and

picked up a stack of folders thicker than a brick. He held them

out to me. "I need these corrected, cross-referenced with the

last five years of data, and compiled into a comprehensive

presentation. By three o'clock today."

I stared at the stack. It was an impossible amount of work. It

was at least two days of solid data entry and analysis, let alone

formatting it into a presentation. This was a test. He was

trying to break me. He wanted me to complain, to cry, or to

quit right here on his pristine carpet.

I reached out and took the heavy folders. I forced a bright,

polite smile.

"Of course, Mr. Sterling. Is there anything else? Perhaps you'd

like me to solve world hunger before lunch?"

The moment the words left my mouth, I wanted to swallow

them back. The silence in the office became heavy, thick

enough to choke on.

Alexander stared at me. His expression didn't change, but his

eyes narrowed slightly. He stepped closer, towering over my

petite frame. I refused to step back. I held my ground,

clutching the files to my chest like a shield.

"Wit is a poor substitute for competence, Miss Hayes," he said,

his voice dropping an octave.

"Good thing I have both, then," I replied smoothly. My heart

was hammering against my ribs, but my voice didn't shake.

"I'll have the presentation on your desk by two-forty-five. Just

to be safe."

I turned on my heel and walked out of his office before he

could fire me.

The next eight hours were a blur of spreadsheets, coffee, and

sheer stubborn willpower. I skipped lunch. I didn't take a

single bathroom break. I dug through the European division

numbers, found the tiny formula error the accountants had

missed, and rebuilt the entire projection model from scratch.

By two-thirty, my eyes were burning, but the presentation was

finished. It was flawless.

I printed it out on high-quality stock paper, bound it neatly,

and walked back into the lion's den.

Alexander was sitting at his desk, reviewing a contract. He

didn't look up.

"It's two-forty," he noted, his tone flat.

"I like to under-promise and over-deliver," I said, placing the

bound presentation on his desk.

He finally looked up, his gaze shifting from the document to

me. He picked it up and flipped through the first few pages. I

watched his eyes scan the numbers. I knew they were right. I

had triple-checked them.

He flipped to the middle, then to the end. The silence

stretched on. I waited for the criticism, for the inevitable

complaint about the font choice or the binding.

He closed the folder and set it down. He didn't say a word. He

just stared at me, his icy eyes unreadable.

"Will that be all, Mr. Sterling?" I asked, breaking the silence.

"For now," he said.

I nodded and walked out. I felt a tiny surge of victory. I had

survived another day.

As I sat back at my desk, the elevator doors down the hall

pinged open. A loud, booming voice echoed down the corridor.

"Sterling! Where is that miserable bastard hiding?"

I looked up to see a man in a sharp gray suit marching toward

my desk. He looked older, maybe in his fifties, with an angry

red flush to his face. I recognized him immediately from the

company directory. Richard Vance, the Senior VP of

Operations, and the uncle of the man Alexander was currently

trying to merge companies with.

"Excuse me, sir," I said, standing up quickly. "Mr. Sterling is

currently busy. Do you have an appointment?"

Richard sneered at me. "I don't need an appointment. Get out

of my way, sweetheart."

He tried to push past me. I stepped right into his path,

blocking the doors to Alexander's office. I was half his size, but

I stood tall.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Vance," I said firmly, my voice dropping the

cheerful tone. "But nobody goes into that office without an

appointment. If you'd like, I can see if he has time for you

tomorrow morning."

"Listen to me, you little—"

"Is there a problem out here?"

The icy voice cut through the air like a knife. I didn't have to

turn around to know Alexander was standing in the doorway

of his office.

Richard Vance's angry flush deepened. "Your assistant is

blocking my way, Alexander."

Alexander's gaze flicked to me, then to Vance. "My assistant is

doing exactly what I pay her to do, Richard. Keeping people

who don't know how to use a calendar out of my office."

Vance sputtered. I stood completely still, my heart racing.

"Now," Alexander continued, his voice dangerously low.

"Unless you have a sudden desire to explain to the board why

you are harassing my staff, I suggest you step back from Miss

Hayes."

The absolute authority in his voice was terrifying, but for the

first time, it wasn't directed at me. It was protecting me.

Vance glared at both of us, then spun around and stormed

back toward the elevators.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. I turned to look

at Alexander. He was already turning back into his office.

"Thank you," I said softly.

He paused in the doorway. He didn't look back at me.

"Don't thank me, Miss Hayes. You handled him well enough

on your own."

He closed the door. I stood alone in the quiet hallway, staring

at the glass. Alexander Sterling was a cold, demanding,

ruthless boss. But as I sat back down at my desk, I realized he

was also something else entirely.

He was interesting.

And surviving a year here suddenly felt a lot less like a prison

sentence, and more like a challenge.

I post sneak peeks and the first few chapters of my novels here on Inkitt. However, you don’t have to wait weeks for chapter updates to find out what happens next!