Crashing into the CEO

I have a problem.

I think the universe hates me.

This morning I overslept thirty minutes, skipped breakfast, and now was stuck in New York traffic. All around me, a symphony of car horns and curses from strangers filled the air.

The car in front of me was especially unbearable. The expensive vehicle was a cherry red Lamborghini. There’s anything wrong with owning a luxury car, but in this particular case, the driver was moving at an insufferable slow pace.

The polished car also caused sunlight to glare into my eyes. This wouldn’t be a problem for average sized people, but since I was vertically challenged, the sun visor in the car can’t reach my eyes. Pitiful, I know.

Just after the traffic cleared out, I sped through, wavering far past the thirty-mile speed limit. This probably wasn’t the best idea since the light from the Lamborghini slightly blurred my field of vision. But because I was running exceptionally late to my first day at an important new job, I decided to ignore any rational thoughts of obeying traffic laws.

Suddenly, the car in front of me jerked to a complete stop.

Instant regret hit me.

Fast reflexes were not my forte. They never have been, so with a crash I totaled into the trunk of the car.

Is it just me, or do bad days always manage to get infinitely worse?

A man wearing a perfectly fitting suit stepped out of the car. He had dark oak eyes, deep brown hair, and a tall stature. If this was any other scenario I would have probably been awestruck by his features. He grimaced in my direction and ran a Rolex adorned hand through his hair.

I quickly got out of my run down Prius to give him a piece of my mind. The man strolled over to me with an enraged look on his face.

“Did you not see the stoplight? Do you not know how to brake? This is all your fault,” he sneered. His voice held a degree of magnitude. The tone was cold, but I couldn’t care less who he was.

“I do know how to brake. In fact, I’m about to break your face. And no, I could not see the stoplight behind that blaring traffic hazard you call a car.”

I met his eyes and refused to back down. The stranger’s height towered over my own, at least over half a foot, but never underestimate a girl fueled by spite.

To my surprise the man’s face changes from one of irritation into a look of intrigue as if he’s never challenged. He’s suddenly silent, and steps close to me. Too close.

“Wh-what do you think you’re doing?” I stumble. Instinctively, I start to back up away from him.

Because you know, stranger danger.

A dark look passes on his face. When my back hits my car, he puts both arms on either side of me, trapping me in a human cage.

“You know you’re kinda cute when you’re mad,” he smirks.

Flustered, I try to push him away from me but it’s useless against his strength. “Leave me alone you asswipe,” I demand.

The stranger raises an eyebrow at me but only moves closer. It’s so close that I can smell cologne and I can feel the body heat radiating off of him.

“You’re such an asswipe,” I continue, “that Johnson and Johnson models their wet wipes off of your face.”

I expect him to back away but instead he chuckles deeply. “I guess I am a wet wipe. After all, I’ve made a lot of women— wet.”

Red rushes to my face and I scrunch up my face in disgust. I couldn’t believe he was so nonchalant at the mention of something so private.

“There it is again. Do you even know who I am?” He asks with authority.

“I don’t know and I honestly don’t care.”

He seemed genuinely shocked that I didn’t know who he was. Taking the open opportunity I manage to duck under one of his long limbs fast enough to escape his grasp.

Great. Just great. First day to my new job and I was already unimaginably late. Not to mention now I no longer had a car. I run my hands through my hair and groaned into the air.

Uber was not an option. Because of the wreck it would take hours to get through traffic. My voice is pitiful as I let out a loud sigh. The stranger watches me in amusement, and I give him a glare in response.

Guess I’m walking to the new job.

~

Forty-five minutes later I dragged myself to the headquarters of Northwood Enterprises. The skyscraper’s daunting height of 750 ft made it one of the most iconic landmarks of the city. Inside this very building, the Northwood News Station operated daily.

Its subsidiaries included magazines, television, print media, and journals. Standing in the center of it all was awe inspiring. After all, this news station was the most renowned and trusted in the entire country.

Starting today I would be working directly for the man behind it all, the billionaire media mogul Alexander Northwood. Intimidation could not even begin to describe how I felt.

I quickly rushed to the front desk to check in. I’m sure Alexander was already annoyed. Punctuality was important, he emphasized it specifically on the phone, but I’ll just explain to him that I had to pull over for a lost puppy or something.

Everyone likes puppies, right?

“My name is Olivia Carter. I’m sure Mr. Northwood is looking for me.”

The secretary wore a grey blazer and matching pencil skirt. Her blonde hair was tightly held in a bun, and from what I could tell, there was not a single wrinkle on her clothes. Her professionalism made me feel a little unpolished in my disheveled, just-walked-five-miles state.

“Well actually, you’re in luck. It looks like he hasn’t checked in this morning yet,” she said in a sweet Southern accent. She saw me gripping the edge of my skirt and added with a wink, “Don’t be nervous darling. He can be intimidating but he’s nothing you can’t handle.”

The secretary’s kindness put me at ease immediately. That’s right Olivia, you’ve got this.

Besides, at least today can’t get any worse.

“Oh look!” She smiles, “there he is now!”

A man with dark eyes and brown hair pushed through the doors and walked to where we stood. He seemed extremely angry, but when he caught my eye, he chuckled humorlessly to himself.

It was the same man whose car I crashed into.

“You must be Olivia, my new intern. My name is Alexander Northwood.”

Oh.

My.

God.