Billionaire Stole My Panties (Being Edited)

CHAPTER 2.

My chest was on fire by the time I reached 9th street. What the—why does the ground feel so sticky all of a sudden? Wait a minute....please, tell me I didn't step in gum! I stopped running to look at my heel, gagging at the sight of a piece of gum clinging to it. That's disgusting! I peeled it off and immediately tried to get it off my fingers. After many failed attempts, it went flying onto a woman's pretty, blue blouse. I was about to tell her and apologise but she disappeared into the sea of people passing by before I got the chance.

Oh well, I'm not going after her so...lady, I wish you luck. I began running again, and soon Spectrum's large, iridescent sign came into view. It took me three minutes to get to the concrete stairs. I collapsed on the rail to catch my breath. H-holy shit, I haven't run that much in....ever! I gazed down at my dirt feet as I panted. Yuck. I gave myself another minute before I stood up and walked up the steps, ignoring the people staring and whispering about my feet. Michael, the doorman, opened the single glass door the moment he saw me.

"Good morning, Ms Cabrera." He said, with a smile. "Late again." He teased, as I walked inside. I grinned, shrugging. Psh, I'm never late. The sunlight was bathing Michael's dark skin in yellowish tints. He's a very handsome man in his late thirties with tiny eyes hidden by those black-rimmed glasses and his hair is cut close to his scalp. He wore his black suit with a powder blue tie and spotless, white gloves. When I first started working here I had the biggest crush on him but it was short-lived though. He's happily married with two children. I stopped to give him a quick peck on the cheek.

"Morning!" I said, grinning. "And I'm never late...everyone is always early," I added, jokingly.

He chuckled. "If you say so." He said. I winked at him.

"Enjoy the rest of your day, Michael."

"You too, Ms Cabrera," Michael said, opening the door for two older women from Management.

My feet echoed through the lobby as I sluggishly walked to the elevator, annoying the people around me. I paid them no mind though, I'm at work and that's all that matters. When I got to the elevator, it opened, revealing an opulent, large-bosomed woman in her late fifties, wearing a red dress and a lot of silver, shimmer eyeshadow and we were wearing the same shoes. Well....she's wearing them—mine are in my bag.

"I like your dress," I said, with a smile. What I also wanted to say was: whoever did your makeup needs a royal ass-kicking.

A small smile stretched across her red, thin lips. "Thank you." She said. She's British.

"Enjoy the rest of your day," I said, as I walked inside.

"You too, my dear." She said as she walked out. I pressed 15F then let out a harsh breath as the door closed. I looked at my reflection in the door, my low bun wasn't as messy as I thought it would be. My attire is a white blouse with long, ruffled sleeves and a black pencil skirt with a small slit on my right thigh. For jewellery, I kept it simple with a gold necklace and a letter 'A' pendant.

The door opened for my floor 3 minutes later. I looked around for any sign of my boss but he was nowhere to be seen and his door was locked. Thank God. I walked out as quietly as I could and took the time to marvel at my domain. The white walls were adorned with twelve large, gold-framed covers of our magazine for the past two years, six on both walls. The floor is shiny, polished concrete. To my left and right are the white-themed setting areas with mint green throw pillows embellished with white, geometric shapes. The sofas formed a semicircle around a large, cherry wood coffee table with a bowl of sweets on it, facing the opposite side. My large desk stood two feet from the far centre of the room while in the centre was taken by my boss's opaque glass, double door.