His Secretary

Chapter 1: Zoe

I straightened my glasses and resumed typing on my computer. I spun in my office chair to the side of my desk in my small cubicle and checked off a day on my calendar pinned up on the carpeted wall.

I let out a sigh and looked around my simple work area, straightened my name plate, Zoe Stevens, and stood up.

My phone buzzed and the screen read, Miranda Owen.

I smiled and picked up the smartphone.

The text read, "Have a good day at work, love you. Heading to drop Dakota off at daycare before my appointment."

She had hearts disease. Something my father had died while I was still at a young age from, but Miranda was strong, and had made it back from the worst. I typed up a quick response and tucked the phone into my purse.

I straightened my gray pencil skirt and adjusted my blouse, and grabbed a file I'd have to work on later.

Almost time to head home, I tell myself trying to lift my spirits.

I'd only been working at THE JOHNSON ARTICLE for about a year and a half now and had managed to bump myself up to assistant editor, but working for a magazine company had its tiresome days, and thats not including my second job.

"Leaving already, Zoe?" Janelle asked, sliding her office chair to the opening of her cubicle next to my own.

I sighed, and smiled to the woman, "You know how it is, as soon as 7:30 hits you gotta get out before they give you more to do."

She chuckled lightly, angling her head to the picture frame on her desk, showing her ex-husband and two kids, seeking her reflection, and patting stray hairs back into its top knot, and stands up to walk with me to the elevator.
"Are we still on for tomorrow night?" She asks referring to the plans we'd made last week to head to a bar.

"Of course, Jan. I've got to get some kind of break this week." We walked through the office filled with bustling people and window covered walls, passing peoples cubicles, and finally making it to the elevator.

She smiled to me, "Oh yes, the 23 year old needs a break."

I pointed my thumb towards myself, "This 23 year old does." I pressed the button for the ground floor.

"Ok, alright. You can stop now, I've worked here for 4 years and you come in a year ago and get into a higher position than me. You act like your job is so hard." She motions her hands.

The elevator door opens and someone enters.

"You try editing this crap." I say holding up the file I held in my hand.

"Are you calling my articles 'crap', Miss. Stevens?" A firm, deep, voice sounds.

My head turns to the direction of the person who had just entered.

My eyes meet his dark brown ones, and I let them rake him quickly. Dark caramel colored hair gelled to the side, groomed facial hair covering a sculpted jawline, and a well fitted charcoal gray suit with a navy blue tie, hiding what seemed to be a muscular body.

His eyes scrutinized me.

My face heated and my tongue decided to no longer work, "N-no, sir. My apologies..." I stutter to the stranger with a lit of question in my voice.