The Hated Billionaire by Erica Frost

Chapter 3: Christina

I walked down the hallway towards my office, feeling restless and tired. It was the meeting, I thought – I didn’t know why, but somehow it had really got to me: and by “it” I meant Mr. Caden’s attitude.

“I hate that man. I hate that man.”

I whispered it to myself, standing in the hallway next to the break room. I knew I was just overreacting. I didn’t really hate him, of course – I knew those words were a bit strong to express what I felt; but I didn’t actually know any other words to express it: if I was honest, I had no idea how I felt.

It was a strong feeling – intense and reactive; one that made me feel oddly discomfited. I felt angry, too, I told myself. That was the only way to describe this strong emotion that coursed through me. It was anger that made me long to annoy him – just anger. I absolutely didn’t enjoy his quick responses.

“Had a good meeting?” Neela called as she walked past. I let out my breath in a sigh.

“Not really. I am sick of bosses who think that, just because you’re a girl, it’s your job to be their personal assistant.” That still stung me.

“Hell. That bad?” Neela’s beautifully dark eyebrows shot up towards her thick black hair.

“Well, maybe not that bad. I just get sick of people taking it for granted that I’m going to do the minutes. I actually like doing minutes, but that isn’t the point. The point is that it isn’t a skill based on gender. In my previous position, Jayden kept minutes and it worked really well.” I walked back with her towards my office.

Neela grinned. “Well, it’s a pity you can’t get Jayden up here to take minutes. I would be interested to see how this guy reacted to having a man doing the same job.”

“Yeah,” I nodded. I would have been curious to see if he took the same patronizing attitude – at very least, it would have been funny to see his face if he asked who was taking the minutes and a big, well-built man put up his hand.

We reached my office and I noticed it was almost time for lunch. I glanced at Neela, who was probably also on her way out. It would be nice to be able to have lunch together – it was rare that we got time to go together, since one or both of us often worked through our break to get stuff done. Maybe today she also had some time for a meal.

As I was about to say something, I was surprised by Mr. Caden. He was coming up the hallway and I felt my heart thump as I looked at him, even as I felt the same strange anger.

“Ms. Bradfield,” he said carefully. “I just wanted to say I am about to send the software link to the new mailing list. It is the list called Execs-all, yes?” he inquired, one brow raised.

“Yeah,” I said. I wondered why he was asking me. Again, I wasn’t the group secretary. Oddly, though, I didn’t find myself feeling all that annoyed. I couldn’t help noticing that he had a nice smile and that he really did have a stunning body. Yes, he might be a jerk, but he was such a stunning jerk that my blood raced.

“Great. I’ll send it over around lunch. Are you on your way out?” he asked.

“Um, yeah,” I said, gesturing at Neela, though I hadn’t said anything to her sooner.

“Oh,” he said. “Great. See you tomorrow for the monthly meeting.” He looked a little disappointed.

“Yes,” I agreed. I looked after him as he walked away. I felt confused. I would have thought I had been really rude to him – after all, he’d reminded me to call him by his first name, and I’d made a point of avoiding to – but he was acting perfectly normally. Nicer than usual, actually. Weird.

Beside me, Neela chuckled. “What happened to him?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” I said, feeling my cheeks redden with a blush. “But I don’t know what he thinks he’s up to. Why should I know which mailing-list to use?” I demanded, cheeks still burning.

Neela grinned. “He should know which mailing-list to use.”

“Yeah,” I said. I frowned at that. I was sure that he actually did know which mailing-list to use – after all, it was his PA who had set them up and emailed about it in the previous week.

I was still wondering about that as I got my coat and shrugged it on, walking with Neela to the stairs. Had he asked me just to have an excuse to talk to me?

I didn’t imagine so.

“Nice coat,” Neela commented as we went downstairs. “Where did you get it? I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while.”

“Oh, I saw it in that little store. Near the big mall,” I gestured down the street in the downtown direction. “It was on sale and I really liked it, so I bought it.” The coat in question was black felt and it really was well-cut and elegant. I felt my cheeks flush with the compliment.

“Well, it looks great,” Neela said. “Though you have a different body to me – the waist wouldn’t look so good.” She gestured at her own figure – she was tall and boyish, where I had more curves.

“Well, you can do that whole loose trousers and loose blouses thing that just looks weird on me,” I pointed out. She grinned.

“Everything has its up-side, right?”

We were both laughing as we went out through the front door and turned right, heading towards the restaurant. We always went to the same place, Rothfeld’s, if we happened to have time for lunch together.

We walked in and sat down near the back. It was a small café and sandwich-bar, with wood panels on the walls and a really nice faux-Fifties feel. We both loved it in there, with the wood tables and the curtains and weirdly modern crockery, at odds with the retro surroundings.

“The usual?” the waiter asked, spotting us. I nodded.

“Yes, please!”

“Coming right up.”

The usual was black coffee, followed by our sandwiches – I always had a grilled vegetable toasted sandwich and Neela always had grilled chicken. We grinned at each other across the table. Neela had taken off her knee-length jacket, and I noticed that she was wearing a smart white shirt underneath, the neck high and buttoned.

“You going to give a presentation later?” I asked as the waiter delivered our coffees. I couldn’t imagine why she would be wearing such a formal shirt otherwise – Neela usually dressed in a more Boho way – somewhere between corporate chic and bohemian in a mix that was all her specialty. I added sugar to mine, stirred it and made a face. It was strong! She grinned.

“Yeah. I’m presenting new logo suggestions. Is that strong coffee?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said, adding some milk.

“Great. I’m going to need it.”

We both laughed. Neela worked with the graphics and advertising part of the company – the graphics team was huge, since they did all the layouts for the magazines as well as doing the branding of the company itself. Neela was also a senior team member and had an amazing creative gift. I always liked looking at her work. I wondered what her presentation would be about.

“I’m doing some promotional stuff for the new extension to the company,” she said, when I asked. “It’s looking okay. Still not too happy about the colors. I have tried white and green, but I think it’s wrong. Just as well it’s only a departmental meeting – I don’t have to show Mr. Scary there.” She gestured towards the building, towards my floor. That meant Brett Caden.

“I don’t think I would classify him as scary,” I said to myself as much as to her as I sipped my coffee. “More like annoying. He gets on my nerves; that’s all.”

“Well, I think he’s scary,” Neela said, then nodded at the waiter as he brought us our sandwiches. “That guy, on the other hand, is rather nice.” She looked after the waiter with big eyes.

“Neela!” I chuckled. She grinned. She was seeing a guy in Accountancy and I knew they were very close and happy. She just had a great appreciation for the male body, and always spotted – and commented on – the good-looking men wherever we went, much to my amusement.

“Neela!”

“Well, he is. I can’t help seeing.” She raised a brow, amused.

I looked after him, but I couldn’t help thinking that even though he was probably more built, the waiter had nothing on Mr. Caden.

What the hell? Where did that thought come from? I asked myself.

I was absolutely not interested in Brett Caden. I could see he was good-looking, and I could admit that he was handsome in a smooth, refined way. That was it. I leaned back and took a deep breath and wondered if I was stressed. Maybe the extra work in the last weeks was affecting my thought processes. I couldn’t possibly be attracted to my boss. Brett Caden was a jerk.

“What’s up?” Neela asked me. She was busy with her salad and she stopped and looked across at me, dark eyes soft.

“Nothing,” I said, sipping my coffee and wondering if I should order some water as well. “I just think I’ve been working a bit hard just lately.”

“You think?” Neela chuckled. “Christina, really, you have been working too hard. And I have been as well, now that I am on the topic. So, let’s hang out this weekend.” She made a wide gesture with one hand. “We haven’t done that in ages.”

“Sounds good,” I said. “What will we do?” I felt my heart lift. It had been ages since we could hang out.

“I don’t know,” Neela said, taking a sip of her coffee. “I guess we could go shopping and take a walk in the park and maybe give each other a manicure – not that it’ll last until the staff party next month.” She grinned. “You know, that kind of thing. Something that has absolutely nothing to do with cost or profits or what the hell color looks good with yellow on an ad.”

We both started laughing. I felt myself starting to relax. I probably had just been working too hard. I needed to give my brain time to get away from work, like Neela had suggested. A weekend of doing nothing stressful sounded just perfect. I nodded.

“Sounds great,” I said.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “And you can help me find an outfit for that party. For once, someone else can think about what looks good with yellow.”

We both laughed. I felt so glad to have had time to have lunch with her. I wondered at the fact that I hadn’t thought of it sooner. There was nothing like social time with a friend to help one feel calmer and more connected – at least, that was what I always found.

We finished lunch and walked back towards the building across the street. I felt better, and glad to have something to think about that had absolutely nothing to do with my boss or how annoyed he made me.