The Stalked Assistant
Autor
Hailey D Bonnette
Leituras
1.0M
CapĆtulos
49
Country girl Isabella moved from Texas to New York to pursue her dreams. Finally, she's landed a new job at a big corporation. It's not long before she butts heads with her boss, Ryder Claiborne, the demanding yet sexy CEO. But the budding workplace sexual tension is the least of her worries as a mysterious stranger starts to text her with compromising pictures and sinister demands that threaten to ruin her career, her friendships, and her romance. Will Izzy be able to escape her stalker's clutches, or will she fall prey to his twisted games?
First Day Jitters
The moment my alarm buzzes in the morning, I instinctively reach for my phone and hit snooze. I want to savor a few more minutes of sleep. Itās the first day of my new job.
I moved to New York years ago to study business. Iād always dreamed of working for a publishing company, but despite my best efforts, I havenāt landed a job in that field yet.
My relationship with my parents has been strained because I havenāt been home in a long time.
Itās not that I donāt want to. I do. But I just canāt seem to find the time to book a flight back to Texas.
None of the publishing companies seem to want to hire me. Theyāre all fully staffed and arenāt planning on hiring anyone new anytime soon.
My savings account is dwindling, and I realized I needed to get my act together and find a jobāany jobāfast.
One day, I picked up a newspaper from the vendor around the corner from my apartment and saw an ad for a personal assistant.
It wasnāt a publishing company, but it was still business-related. I jumped at the opportunity.
A few years ago, Ryder Claiborne, the company CEO, took over the business from his father.
I was curious about my new boss. From what I found online, heās had many assistants over the years. His father is retired, but he still helps his eldest son with the business.
Ryder has an older brother and sister, as well as younger siblings. His mother has spent most of her marriage as a stay-at-home mom.
Iām sorry, I canāt go into more detail right now, I have to start my day.
My alarm was set for 5:30 a.m., and itās already five minutes past. I have to be at work by 7 a.m.
That doesnāt leave me much time.
I usually shower first thing in the morning, but since I showered late last night, I decide to skip it.
Iām also grateful that I remembered to shave my legs the night before; itās not always a given with me.
As I head to the closet, I ruffle my hair with one hand and rub my eyes with the other, trying to wake myself up.
I pull out the dress I picked out the night before for my first day. Itās cute but professional.
I donāt want to give my new boss the wrong impression on our first meeting. Itās a simple light pink dress that doesnāt show too much cleavage.
Iām starting to get nervous, even though Iāve been telling myself all night that Iām more than qualified for this job.
But the fact that Ryder has had so many personal assistants has me wondering. Whatās up with that?
When I first read about him, I assumed he was an older, grumpy man. But then I saw his pictures and realized he was young and handsome.
I grab the dress and head to the bathroom, where I take off my nightgown and look at my reflection in the mirror.
My hair is a tangled mess, and my curls are going every which way. I doubt Iāll be able to tame them. I donāt like pulling my hair back into a ponytail.
I try to smooth it down and then spray a little hairspray on it, hoping itāll stay in place.
Then I do my makeup. Just a light foundation, some light brown eyeshadow, and eyelashes.
My eyes water at everything, and it takes forever to get the fake eyelashes on right. Itās the damn fake eyelashes that make me take so long.
I rush out of the bathroom, grab my phone from my nightstand, and dash into my tiny kitchen.
Believe it or not, I grew up on a ranch, which is why my apartment isnāt exactly luxurious. My parents arenāt wealthy.
Even though I was lucky enough to get a scholarship, I had to work as a waitress at a restaurant down the street to make ends meet.
After paying all my bills and buying what I needed for school, I didnāt have much left over for anything else.
Even the dress Iām wearing now was bought from a store called Roses, known for selling cute clothes at low prices.
When I walk into my kitchen, I grab a banana from the counter and start eating it. Then I start the coffee maker.
Iām good at multitasking, so I should be a great fit for this job, right?
While the coffee is brewing, I take a loaf of bread from next to the stove and make myself two slices of toast.
Once my toast is ready and my coffee is brewed, I sit at the kitchen bar and start eating.
I savor the taste of the coffee as it goes down my throat; Iām sure itāll wake me up. And yes, I live off coffee. Coffee is like my drug; I canāt function without it.
I look at my phone and see that itās already past six. My new workplace is at least a fifteen-minute drive away. In this traffic, that means an hour.
I finish my toast as quickly as I can and then rush to the door where I keep my shoes.
I spent most of my childhood on a farm. I have a weird thing about wearing shoes in the house. My mom hated it when my dad and I tracked mud inside on her clean floors.
I have quite a few pairs of shoes, but only two are fancy.
Would black heels or brown wedges look better with this dress? I take a moment to decide.
Wedges are more for parties or outdoor events. Heels are more professional, so I slip them on as fast as I can.
I scoop up my purse and cell phone, whispering a quick prayer for a good day before stepping out the door.
