I don't know when I fell asleep, but I know exactly when I woke up. The second Mr. Crawford's voice registers in my brain.
"Wake up," he says loud in my ears. Instantly, I woke up with a jolt, jerking upright off my desk.
"I'm so sorry, Mr. Crawford," I say, rubbing my eyes. I was exhausted from the dinner party last night. I barely got any sleep. Why would someone even throw a party on Sunday night?
"I never knew I paid you to sleep. And what did I say using that word around me?" he asks, getting angrier. Not knowing what else to say, I shut my mouth. "Bring two cups of coffee to my office in a five minutes," he says before walking into his office.
"Okay, sir," I say and stand up to walk to the lunchroom to make the coffee.
When I'm done making the coffee, I walk to his office to give it to him. I can't help but wonder who the second cup of coffee is for. I don't remember sending anyone to his office; maybe both cups are for him. I knock on his door and enter after he says to come in. Inside I find someone sitting opposite Mr. Crawford's desk. The face is familiar to me, but I can't remember the last time I saw him.
"Eleanor is that you?" the mystery man asks in a deep, familiar voice. It brings back memories from college. I can't believe it. It's Evan. Why's he here?
"Yes, in flesh," I say, smiling. I quickly drop the coffee on Mr. Crawford's desk and pull Evan in for a hug. "What are you doing here?" I ask when I let him go.
"I should be asking you that," Evan says.
"I work here."
"Really? Who'd have known I'd find you working for my cousin," he says. My eyes widen in shock.
"What did you say?" I ask, not sure I heard him right. I want to believe I heard wrong.
"My cousin. Jason's my cousin."
"No, that's not possible," I say, surprised someone as amazing as Evan could be related to someone as arrogant as Mr. Crawford.
"He's my cousin, alright. We even have the same surname," Evan says, chuckling at my disbelief.
"Wow, I can't believe it. It's a small world," I say, still finding it hard to believe they're related.
"How do you know her?" Mr. Crawford asks. It's the first time he'd spoken since I entered the office.
"We went to college together. I graduated before her," Evan answers.
"Hmm," Mr. Crawford says, staring at me, intently. "So, that would mean you know her fairly well?"
"You could say that," Evan says, looking curiously at Mr. Crawford. Why is he asking all these questions?
"That's nice. As much as I'd love for you to catch up with your friend Evan, we have business to discuss. Maybe later."
"Yeah, you're right. I'll stop by your desk before I leave. It's nice seeing you, Eleanor."
"You too," I say before walking out of Mr. Crawford's office.
***
A few days have gone by since Evan came to the office. I still find it hard to believe he's related to someone as horrible as Mr. Crawford. But who am I to judge? The two people who created me are nothing much to talk about. When he left Mr. Crawford's office, we made sure to exchange phone numbers, and talked about going out this weekend to catch up.
The elevator ding brings me back from my musings. My desk isn't too far away from the elevator, so I know whenever someone arrives on our floor. But something is different today. Before I set my eyes on them, I can hear their heels clicking hard against the floor. It's like they want the world to know they're here. I wait patiently for them to come into view. I have a hunch it's a woman, and I'm right. A beautiful blonde with a gorgeous body approaches my desk. She looks familiar, but I can't recall exactly where I know her from.
"I'd like to see Jason. Could you tell him I'm here? My name is Tracy," she says, smiling at me.
"Do you have an appointment?" I ask, checking the books to see if Mr. Crawford is expecting her and finding nothing. "I'm sorry, ma'am, you don't have an appointment. I can't let you in to see Mr. Crawford," I say politely. She's about to speak when another set of heels hit harshly against the floor.
"Of course Tracy doesn't have an appointment. She thinks she can come in and see Jason anytime she likes," Vivienne says, venom dripping in her voice.
"Hello to you too, Vivienne," Tracy says, as a smug smile gracing her face. "I can see life is treating you well." Tracy flips her hair backward, deliberately showing off the bracelet on her wrist. It seems she wanted Vivienne to see the bracelet because once Vivienne's eyes land on it, her eyes bulged with anger. The bracelet looks familiar, but I'm too busy watching the soap opera in front of me to care where I saw it.
"I have a job unlike some people, so of course life is treating me well."
"I don't need a job. I have all the money I need," she says, smirking.
"And how long is the money going to last? Wait, don't answer. I know. I just need to wait until I receive a new wedding invitation. Then I'll know for sure all the money you sucked dry from your last husband's gone," Vivienne says. This time its Tracy's eyes filling with anger. I can see her nostrils flaring, and her hand curls into a tight fist.
Oh, God, please let this fight get physical! It would make working here so worth it. I internally root for the catfight while also trying my best not to let them see how much pleasure I was getting watching them argue. I know it sounds cruel, but it doesn't change the fact that they probably hate each other. Clearly, they both like Mr. Crawford, who's one of the world's biggest players. They're both wasting their beauty on such an arrogant man who I'm sure thinks poorly of them.
Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.
"Eleanor, why do I hear loud voices?" Mr. Crawford asks as he opens his office door. I wonder if he came out because of the noise, or if he was going somewhere. "Oh, Tracy. You're here. Why are you standing outside?" he asks, standing in front of his door. Tracy walks over to him and wraps her hand around his arm.
"Sugar Bear, they refused to let me see you," Tracy says, her voice like a little child. I resist the urge to gag.
"I've told you not to call me that," he says sternly, harshly removing his arm from her hold. I can't believe this is how he treats her, and she was fighting another woman for him. "Vivienne, you know Tracy doesn't need an appointment to see me, so why didn't you let me know she was here?" he asks using the same tone he uses when he talks to me. I thought Vivienne was more than a secretary to him. Apparently, I was wrong.
"I'm sorry, sir. Next time, I'll be sure to send her in," Vivienne says, her voice lower than it was earlier. She sounds sad, and I'm not surprised. I don't know exactly what type of relationship they have, but the way he talked to her wasn't how she'd hoped.
"Good. Eleanor, anytime Tracy comes, send her in. I'll be out of the office for a while, move any meetings I have until I'm back," he says, walking to the elevator with Tracy trailing behind him.
"Yes, sir," I say before he entirely walks away.
YOU ARE READING
My Unwanted Billionaire
Romance"Tell me, Eleanor, do you like seeing me like this? Do you like seeing me angry with you?" he yells, banging the spot above my head. I keep my mouth shut so I don't say the wrong thing and make him angrier. "Fucking answer me," he says, roughly shak...