Michael Taylor was sure- he was in love with Lydia Saunders, even if she was engaged to someone else. He had been for years and no one else came close. Not until that kiss happened.
Suddenly, Lyanna Saunders- the woman he vowed to hate forever- was...
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While I'm grateful that Michael and Andie wanted to treat me to a new office layout, it's been a week since I came back to find that nothing was how I'd left it and I still can't find a bloody thing in here. I've tried to create a map of the space and put some post-it notes on the cabinets to remind me where things are but I think those sticky suckers keep moving around because nothing is where they say they are and it's starting to get on my last fucking nerves.
"Michael!" I shout as I slam another drawer shut in frustration. It should not take me five minutes to search for a sharpener and I should not have to resort screaming for help from other members of staff to find my things. "I swear to God, if I don't have a sharpener in my hands in the next three seconds, I will kill someone."
In less than three seconds, Michael was stood in my doorway with an amused grin on his face with the said sharpener in his outstretched palm. Due to my mood, I didn't thank him when I snatched it from his hand. Instead, I grumbled something unintelligible much to Michael's amusement. I'm glad he thinks it's funny but it really wasn't funny to me. What would he say if I went into his office and rearranged all his things? Andie is lucky she's gone home for the day because if she were still here, I'd definitely kill her for coming up with this idea.
Don't get me wrong, my office looks nice. It's just that I can't find anything. How am I supposed to work when I can't find a damn thing? For an organised perfectionist workaholic like myself, this is a nightmare.
"I find it amusing that you get worked up about this, Lyanna," Michael laughs from where he's stood. "You'll get used to it. Eventually."
I huff. "I don't want to get used to it. There was nothing wrong with how it was set up before. I liked my office. I loved my office. Imagine if I went to your house and rearranged all your furniture, all your kitchen cupboards and your wardrobe. Would you be happy then?"
"At least my house would be clean," Michael shrugs his shoulder nonchalantly. Coming further into my office, Michael peers over my shoulder at the designs I'm working on. Seemingly impressed by my work, he nods before jumping up to sit on top of the new counter space I've inherited. "Look, Lyanna, thank you for doing this."
