Twist of Fate
著者
Cosmic Chaos
閲覧数
434K
チャプター
34
Sometimes love just isn’t enough. At least that’s what everyone kept telling me. I mean, is that supposed to make me feel better?
Chapter 1
Sometimes love just isn’t enough. At least that’s what everyone keeps telling me. I mean, is that supposed to make me feel better?
I was with Greg for six years before I found out he was cheating on me. It isn’t just that love wasn’t enough, but it’s that I wasn’t enough.
The day I walked in on him was earth shattering. His eyes met mine and he just kept drilling into the mystery woman like I didn’t even exist.
We were supposed to get married in four months… How the hell could I have been so blind?
I finish the final touch-ups on my makeup and grab my blazer that’s hanging on the closet door, pulling it on and buttoning the three buttons in the front. I’ve missed two weeks of work while I tried to get my shit together, and now the idea of going back has my nerves on edge.
What if I’m not good enough at my job either and just haven’t realized it?
I grab my purse and walk out the door of my brownstone before I give the thoughts the chance to completely drown me. I climb in my SUV and pull away from the curb, then make the twenty-seven-block drive to the office where I work as director of human resources for L.M. Stone Enterprise and have worked there for the last year.
I pull into my spot in the parking garage and rush to the elevator that’s still open, step in, and press the button for the twelfth floor. The ride to my floor feels like it takes an eternity, and when the doors finally open, I practically leap through them.
I walk at a swift pace through the reception area and down the hall to my office, not stopping until I close the door behind me. I slide into my chair and turn on my computer, then start sorting the stack of files on my desk while I wait for it to boot up.
The moment my PC flares to life, I’m blown away with the horrendous sound of alerts booming from the speakers as two weeks’ worth of email alerts come flooding in.
I begin sifting through the messages, and one in particular, from the CEO’s secretary, catches my attention.
Ms. Issalia Montenegro,
You have a mandatory meeting with Mr. Seth Iverson at 11 a.m., Tuesday the 9th.
Sincerely,
Eileen Daniels
I look at the clock and let out a sigh of relief when I see it is only 10 a.m. In the year I’ve worked here, my presence has never been requested by any of the higher-ups.
I sort through more of my emails and finally leave my office at 10:45, take the elevator to the seventeenth floor, and step out to be greeted by Eileen and her smile that suggests she would rather chew glass than see me standing in front of her.
“I have an eleven o’clock meeting with Mr. Iverson.”
She looks at me as if I just asked her to help me watch paint dry. “I’m aware. I did send the email after all. Have a seat, and he’ll be with you shortly.”
She lowers her gaze back to her computer monitor as I turn around and take a seat in the waiting area. I sit there with my legs crossed and my hands clasped in my lap as I nervously wait.
“Ms. Montenegro?”
I lift my gaze and find shiny black men’s dress shoes, perfectly pressed black suit pants that are perfectly fitted to large, long legs, and a black suit jacket that is tightly hugging bulging muscles with a crisp white button-down shirt beneath it.
My eyes finally reach the face of the tall godlike creature, where I nearly gasp when I see his perfectly sculpted features, bright green eyes, and black hair that’s slicked back and cut short on the sides.
I rise to my feet and close the distance, hoping I haven’t been staring too long. I stop in front of him, and he extends his hand to me, which I shake nervously.
“I had planned to meet with you sooner, but I was informed you were on vacation. I hope you enjoyed yourself.”
I shift nervously, and my eyes drop to the floor. “Not really.”
I do not miss the way his body tenses slightly. Fuck…I just made it awkward!
“Follow me, please.” He turns and heads down the hall, and I stay close behind him, turning into a large office. “Close the door, please.”
I slowly close the door and turn to see him gesturing to a chair across from him, which I rush to take a seat in. He remains silent for what seems like hours as he looks at his computer screen, and my nerves are getting the better of me, so in a possibly foolish moment of nervousness, I decide to break the silence.
“I’m sorry, sir, but can I ask why I’m here?”
He pulls his hands away from his keyboard and rests his elbows on the armrests of his chair with his hands clasped in front of him.
“I’ve been reading your employee file, and I figured it’s about time we meet. I usually familiarize myself with our employees much sooner, but things around here have been chaotic with all the new clients that have come in.”
I relax in my chair and let out an audible sigh. “Oh, I thought I had made a mistake.”
He chuckles softly and leans forward to look at his screen again. “From what I see, you haven’t made one yet. It seems that everyone enjoys working with you, you’re excellent at following directions, and you aren’t afraid of taking on difficult tasks. Mr. Stone has spoken quite highly of you.”
I give a soft smile, and my hands fidget with the hem of my skirt. “I really like working here. Most everyone is kind, and they helped so much when I first got hired.”
He seems pleased with my answer as he nods. “That’s great to hear. Are you having any issues at all?”
I shake my head, and my smile fades. “Nothing work related.” I quickly avert my gaze.
He raises a brow. “Well, if you have any issues you need help with, please let me know. I know that you’ve been reporting to Mr. Stone during my absence, but from today, you will report directly to me.”
I nod, and my eyes dart back to him and catch his unreadable expression. “I will, thank you.”
He stands up, and I follow his lead as he reaches his hand across his desk, and I cautiously place mine in it but jolt back as several sparks shoot through my hand. I look up to see him giving me a strange look, then politely excuse myself before hurrying out of his office.
Eileen gives me a cold glare as I walk out of the hall and stop at the elevator, but I ignore her as I watch the glowing numbers above the metal doors.
When the doors open, I step inside without hesitation and push the button for the twelfth floor, then lean against the wall with my eyes fixed on the floor, but before the doors can close, a large figure steps in.
My eyes drift up to find the nearly glowing green eyes of Mr. Iverson, which leaves me trying, and likely failing, to not look like a nervous idiot. He goes to press a button but pauses and withdraws his hand, and after that uncomfortable flicker of a moment in his office, my nerves are completely on edge in his presence.
The sound of my phone ringing shakes me out of my daze as I grab it and stare at the name on the screen, Greg, and send the call to voicemail.
Then a moment later, it rings again, so I once again send it to voicemail. When it rings a third time, I send it to voicemail, then turn off the volume on my phone, but I catch the curious look and raised brow on Mr. Iverson’s face.
“You can answer your phone. I promise I don’t mind.”
I give a nervous smile and shake my head. “I would rather swallow gasoline and a lit match.”
The elevator dings, and I rush out, making a beeline for my office, but am stopped by Sarah, the receptionist for my department.
“Hey Issalia, you have several messages from a Mr. Greg Baker.”
My hands clench into fists at my sides, and I try to keep my tone firm and my voice steady. “If he calls again, please refrain from taking a message.”
She stares at me in confusion. “What would you like me to tell him?”
I let out an exasperated sigh and lower my head. “Tell him that if he would like to talk to someone, he can talk to his mistress.”
I walk away before my anger can break free, turning into my office and slamming the door closed. I pace my office as I try to settle my nerves, but I freeze when my office door flies open and there stands Mr. Iverson.
I squeeze my eyes closed as I wait for him to yell, or even fire me for my behavior, but when the door closes, I open my eyes to see him standing with his hands in his pockets and a concerned look on his face.
“So, I take it your two-week vacation was actually a two-week breakup?”
I drop into one of the chairs in front of my desk and he takes the seat beside me. “It was a two-week pity party.”
A soft chuckle slips past his lips before he stops himself. “If you need more time off, I’m sure we can arrange it.”
I shake my head adamantly. “No, coming back to work was the right decision. I just hadn’t expected him to…well…to be the way he’s being.”
He sits back and runs his fingers over his jaw. “Something you have probably already learned from this, men are idiots. More often than not, they don’t realize that they had a good thing until it’s too late. Don’t let yourself dwell on it too much. Take your time to mourn things and then get out there and show him what he’s missing.”
I give him a confused look. “Sounds like you’ve learned from experience.”
He nods and a soft sigh escapes his lips. “Like I said, men are idiots. I want you to take the rest of the day off. Go to the spa, or the bar, or home, but go relax.”
I shake my head in protest, which causes his brow to raise again. “I would rather be here and get to work. I’m so far behind already.”
He sighs and just when I think he’ll admit defeat, he gives me a sly smile. “Too bad. Now go.”
I slowly stand up, locking my eyes on his as I move behind my desk and shut down my PC, then grab my bag. As I walk out of my office, he follows me to the elevator and then inside.
Once the doors close and I push the button for the parking garage, I turn to him and decide I might as well ask the question that’s now running through my mind with violent force.
“Am I fired?”
He chuckles loudly and shakes his head. “No. If you were being fired, security would be escorting you out, not me.”
Wait…he is escorting me out?
“Can I come back tomorrow?”
He nods with a warm smile stretched across his face. “Yes. I actually have an interview tomorrow that I would like you to attend.”
I nod as the elevator door chimes and the doors open. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
I walk out of the elevator and to my SUV, unlocking the doors as I approach and climbing in. Mr. Iverson stands in the elevator until I pull out as if he thinks I’ll try to sneak back in.
I can’t think of anywhere I want to go, so I drive home. I walk up to the front door of my brownstone townhouse, slip the key into the lock, turn, and then swing the door open as I head inside.
By the time I’m getting ready for bed, I have fifty-three missed calls and more than thirty text messages from Greg that I ignore as I lay my head down and drift to sleep.
