C2 Chapter 2

"Miss Han," he calls in a thick, masculine voice that cause my heart to start palpitating faster. "You look like you need to visit the hospital, don't you?" He ask, pulling his desk drawer as it makes a slight, uncomfortable sound to my ears.

I am sitting on a soft cushion on the opposite side of his desk, facing him who sits like a deity on his executive office chair. The office is unnecessarily large but I don't even have the time to look around because the pain in my foot is eating me to the point of loosing focus. And why does he even care to ask, when he's the one who let me fall in front of his office?

"No, Mr Jay. . . I -I mean, Sir. I'm fine, its not serious." I try to resist the urge to shift in my seat again. The pain feels like my bone is being crushed by a grinder, yet I just lied to him that it isn't serious. The last thing I would want to show this man is my weakness; he look like a sadist, who'll be very glad to know that I'm in pain.

My heart keeps on palpitating louder and louder. I didn't know I could get this nervous around any living human being until now. I could even count how many times I breathed and blinked in the minutes his eyes scrutinized me through his glasses earlier.

Mr Jay ccontinues looking into his drawers as though he's trying to find something very important. There's a certain kind of smell on his clothes and office which smells very familiar, yet my memory can't place where exactly I have previously smelt something similar. Again, I'm not in the right state of mind to be thinking about this!

"Your CV says you're twenty three years old, Miss Han. And you didn't have any experience working as a personal secretary anywhere before joining my company as an intern, yet you are here. Do you think you're qualified enough to serve me?"

Why does he have to use the word 'serve'? I hate the way he speaks! "I may not be qualified for the position Sir. But given the emergency situation, I hope you won't mind giving me a chance to serve you for the time being." Gosh, I can't believe I'm using the word 'serve'. "I know you can manage me temporarily, if you put your heart into doing it." I put up a smile on my face in hopes that he takes my illogical answer as an answer.

"I'm a businessman, Miss Han. Keep your emotions in check and stop talking about hearts. Maintain professionalism."

You rude, narcissistic little piece of garbage. Just because you're the CEO doesn't put you on top of the world. I've seen better, good looking rich men who chose to remain humble. What makes you think. . . Anyway, this is not the right time. "Ah, yes. . . Sir. I'll keep that in mind Sir."

"Miss Han?"

"Eoh?. . . Yes?"

He stops rummaging through his desk drawer and swing his eyes to me, relaxing his back against the seat. "Come here, to this side quickly," he says, with urgency in his voice.

"I?"

"Who else?"

"I -I'm sorry. Yes, Sir." Slowly, he's beginning to piss me off but I'm trying to act cool and pretend to be unaffected by his rudeness. The way he let me fall earlier. . . I'm going to make this man pay. But for now, I have to survive whatever evil he's planning to put me through again.

I suppress the urge to grit my teeth as I take off my top overall to reduce pushing more heaviness to my legs. I keep it on the cushion before I manage my heels and move close to his side, biting my bottom lip so as to contain the pain troubling my leg.

"Sit," he orders, standing up to his height. I pause in my stance and stare at him for a more explanatory phrase. What does he mean by sit? I should sit on his head or where? "I asked you to seat." He repeats again, with a slight tone of irritation.

"On. . . On your chair? Sir?"

"The floor." He points to the floor, and I curse him under my breath as I glance down at the white, marble flooring. Cool down. Stay Calm. No anger. No panic. Okay? Let's see the end of whatever madness he's planning to do here.

I lower down close to his desk like he instructed me to, dropping my bum on the floor and stretching out my legs like a toddler about to start playing with toys. I watch him as he steps away from his chair and also lower his height and suddenly, he just grabs my left leg, forcing me to wince as I bite my lips in reaction to the pain.

"Don't move," he says as he carefully takes off my heel. He begin to observe my leg, his hand delicately touching around the spot where my skin has slightly turned purple. In a swift motion, his hand moves into the already opened drawer, and he brings out something which he instantly tear open to reveal a patch.

Wordlessly, he use the patch to bandage my leg while I watch him closely, suddenly wondering what has happened to the rude and arrogant man from a minute ago? Why is he being nice to me? Something catches my attention in his hair and I look. Its shiny and perfectly parted in two, each part slicked to their sides in over-done perfection. I'm suspecting his hairstylist of having an OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder). His forehead looks so smooth and inviting to the touch. . . Can I touch it?

"Don't ruin your health before you start work." I flinch to the sound of his voice close to me. His eyes abruptly shifts from my legs to my face, and for a split second, I think I just saw his eyes checking out my lips before it fluttered back up to my eyes, and now he's glowering at me like a bull. An angry bull.

"I don't like dealing with damaged goods, Miss Han." He shoves my leg out of the way and returns to his seat, leaving me choking on my yelp. I feel so foolish. It was naive of me to have thought for a minute that he cared about my health. Of course he needs me to be healthy in other to use and abuse me to his maximum satisfaction. This wicked human.

"Leave my office. Work start tomorrow and I expect you to be here by 7am. I don't tolerate unpunctuality." He throws something at me, which hit me straight across my forehead before it falls onto my laps. I can see that its a car key. A remote car key.

I must not get angry no matter what! "Yes Sir." I say, through gritted teeth which I'm sure he must've seen before he looks away, pretending not to see it.

The patch makes the pain feel a little bit better. I put my heel back before I stand up and walk to the cushion chair. I grab my overall top and start motioning for the door.

Stopping at the door, I swiftly turn around only to catch his framed eyes checking out my curve-less figure with a pen hanging between his fingers, but then he shifts his gaze so quickly, pretending to be in a critical thinking session and spinning around with his pen. He's so full of pretense! But men will always be men, huh! I know when to get back at him!

I plaster what I hope will be a fake adorable smile on my face as I say my final "thank you for giving me the opportunity Sir," very loudly before I dash out through the door. Embarrassment instantly sweep over me as the memories of my stupidity begins flashing into my head. I make for the elevator. How silly of me to have put on such a show on my first day. I should have wore my snickers.

The thoughts of everything that happened at the office clung into my memory like a tick, bothering me all through the rest of the day and even at night while I was nursing my leg to sleep. I couldn't stop thinking about him.

I don't know how I ended up dozing off on the couch after munching down on junk food.

*

My alarm didn't ring. Or maybe it did, but not loud enough to wake me up from my deep slumber. What awoken me instead, is another disturbing swinging and smashing sound. Turns out to be the sound of the balcony's glass window which I had left opened, smashing against its frame with the force of the cold wind.

I set my feet out of the couch, wiping off the sleep in my eyes and yawning as I shut the balcony window and turn the lock in. I return to the couch with the intention of sleeping a little bit more, but then my phone begins to ring.

Lazily, I swipe on the call and pick without wasting a second to verify the caller. "Hello," I say, yawning into the phone again.

"I do not need lazy and disrespectful people in my company. You're fired, Miss Han. Don't bother coming here." A gruff voice blares through the speaker, causing me to flinch as confusion clouds my memory and my ability to think. I lower the phone down as my eyes roughly check the time. It says 7:04AM.

Crap. . . I'm about to scream as my brain makes a recall, but thankfully I don't. I'm expected to show up at work by seven and not nine; the usual time of going to office in Daegu.

Before I can catch my breathe and respond to the caller, he hung up the phone. Aishh. . . Why can't I stop creating more problems for myself? What do I do now? I'm so stupid! I'm scolding myself aloud, knocking my head hard over and over again as I rush to the bathroom. I multitask by brushing my teeth and showering at the same time. I had previously thought that my leg would be problematic for me, but turns out it's just a minor strain. The pain has significantly reduced and I have no problem walking with the soreness.

I'm dressed in a black maxi skirt, a milky blouse which I tucked into my waist, and completed the look with a milky top coat. Instead of putting on a high heel however, I opt for a white sneakers to avoid repeating yesterday's mistake.

Looks like I'm going to have to keep my self esteem aside and do a lot of begging. Or maybe not?