Chapter 7

• Annalisa was rushing into the office at 7:08, balancing two coffees in a drink carrier in one hand and a bag of muffins in the other. "Good morning, Layla," she called out as she hurried past the receptionist towards the elevator, all while trying not to trip in her heels. She couldn't afford a mishap of that proportion on a day like this.
• Layla, engrossed in her phone with a cup of coffee in her other hand, mumbled out a "Morning". She pressed the button for the elevator and when it finally arrived, she stepped inside, pressing the button for her floor.
• "Hold the elevator," someone yelled, so she stuck her bag of muffins between the doors, stopping them from shutting. John rushed into the elevator and smiled at her, "Good morning, Ann. I assume the interview went well if you're here at the crack of dawn."
• She chuckled and John pushed the button for the 12th floor. His cheeks were flushed from overexertion, but his eyes were bright with excitement. He cleared his throat and his smile fell as he looked at her hands, "Is all of this for him?"
• She readjusted the drink carrier in her hand, "Uh, not all of it. I didn't have time to fix breakfast so half of this is mine. I didn't realize I'd get a 'coffee run' phone call this morning before breakfast so I'm late and I'm hungry," she pouted at him.
• He laughed, "Oh yeah, that's probably the only phone call that he'll give you. Now you know his order so he'll expect you to get that every morning," he looked at his watch and raised his eyebrows, "Nine minutes late... Not a very good impression on your first day if I'm being honest."
• She huffed and smiled at his playful grin, "Oh, hush, you! I had no idea he would call demanding the world of me before seven! But now I know better so it won't happen again."
• The elevator doors opened and he got out with a chuckle and a wave, "Tell that to the big guy, not me. See you around, Ann."
• Just like the previous day, she made it to the 25th floor, the voice asked for the code, she typed it in --all while juggling the drink carrier and bag in one hand, she might add-- the doors opened, and she was in just as much awe as she was yesterday. But she quickly pulled herself together and rushed down the hallway.
• From his desk, he called out, "Good morning, Miss Greyson. You're late, so I hope you at least got my order right."
• Annalisa slowed her pace as she rounded the corner before continuing towards his desk.
• Upon reaching him, his head was down as usual, she set his coffee cup on the desk and cleared her throat, "I'm sorry, Sir, that I was late," she defended herself, having had no idea he'd call, "But I'll be more prepared tomorrow...Sir."
• "Did you just mess up on your first day?" he asked, not looking up from his papers.
• With any luck? No.
• "Mr. Silverstone," she began, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth.
• "Ian," he corrected, still not looking up.
• "Right, sorry. Ian?"
• "Hmm?" He hummed, still engrossed in his papers.
• "Would you like a muffin, Sir? I wasn't able to have breakfast so I grabbed a few..." She trailed off, hoping that even big and bad CEOs needed breakfast too.
• He finally lifted his head and asked, "Did you get chocolate?"
• Annalisa smiled and reached into the bag, pulling out a chocolate muffin and a napkin before placing them beside his coffee cup. He picked up the muffin, took a bite out of the top - obviously a 'save the worst for last' kind of man - and pointed to the other side of the room while holding a hand over his partially full mouth, "Your desk is over there. I need you to go through all of my emails and set up my schedule and calendar. I'm trusting that you're competent enough to figure that out..?"
• She turned around and saw a slightly smaller mahogany desk where his liquor bar was yesterday. He had already set it up with a computer, printer, phone, and calendar.
• "Yes, Sir. I'm quite sure I can figure it out," she responded, trying to keep any hint of sarcasm out of her voice. She walked over to her new desk, setting her things down and pulling out the chair to sit. At least the chair was comfortable, she thought, considering she would be spending a significant amount of time in it.
• "Oh, and Annalisa?"
• She hadn't realized that he had followed her to her desk or that he was almost touching her with how close he was, "Your skirt is a little short."
• Looking down, she saw that her skirt was showing the clasp where her thigh-high stockings connected to her garter belt. She gasped and pulled her skirt down, blushing profusely.
• Turning on the computer to distract herself from her embarrassment, she finally acknowledged that he was still standing beside her, "I'm so sorry, Sir. I won't let that happen again."
• She had admittedly been trying to get a reaction out of him with this outfit, like she had with yesterday's outfit, but she hadn't realized how short her skirt was. She mentally berated herself for her oversight.
• "It's fine, Annalisa. I just wanted to bring it to your attention," he said as he headed back to his desk.
• The computer booted to life and for the rest of the morning, she tried to distract herself from the thought of Dylan being mere inches from her earlier. And now he knew basically what she was wearing under this black blazer and skirt suit.
• 'He's probably daydreaming about what's under your outer layer.' If only.
• She shook her head and dove into her work.
• The rest of the day went without event. Dylan didn't speak more than two words to her except to say, "Good night, Miss Greyson, I'll see you bright and early. Don't forget the coffee...and the muffin," before he left.
• He tried to hide it but she caught the slight smile before his face went stone cold. Tomorrow, she decided, she would make it more eventful.