Not Your Ordinary Millionaire Love Story (completed)

The Office

*Harry*

Maybe it's the dark circles under my eyes. Or just around them. Maybe it's my buggy eyes in general. I don't know. It could be my greasy hair. Greasy because I try to remember to take showers. I don't stink. I just ... don't work out or get sweaty or ... do anything active. I sit at my desk all day everyday.

Maybe it's my accent. American girls are supposed to like boys with British accents. I think living in the states for the past five years has really thrown my accent through the loop. Sometimes I catch myself slurring my words like an American or stuttering before I speak because my brain is trying to figure out how to say a word. Yep, definitely my accent and the way I talk.

Maybe it's my lanky body. I don't work out. But I don't eat. I'm not freakishly tall but I'm not super short either. I'm ... average. I used to be fat—or muscular—but I just ... lost my appetite. Working began to be overwhelming and I was eating too much. I asked around my office for diet ideas and it worked. I stopped it when I got to a reasonable weight but every time I became hungry when I was stressed I wouldn't eat. And I'm stressed a lot!

Maybe it's the way my suits hang off my boney shoulders. Or the way my belt bunches at the waist of my slacks when I take my jacket off. I have a long neck, too, and my Adam's Apple sticks out further than my chin. My ears also stick out. For all I know, those in my office probably make Dumbo jokes like the kids in elementary school did.

Whatever it is, I am a multimillionaire twenty-seven-year-old man and never have I ever been kissed or kissed a girl.

*****

I sighed heavily once the doors to the elevator opened to the tapping of key boards and the ringing of phones sang throughout the office. Another boring day at work.

I made my way to my private office and soon enough my secretary, Liza, synchronized her steps with mine.

"Good morning, Mr. Robinson. You have an eight o'clock meeting with the accounting team in the conference room on floor twelve and another meeting with Mr. Joslin at four o'clock this evening on floor thirty. At five o'clock you have the shareholder dinner at the—"

"Cancel that. I'm not going."

"Sir, with all do respect—"

"You shalt correct me. Thank you, Liza. Is that all for today?" The beautiful brunette with the perfect figure and long legs shyly looked at her black heels.

"Your mother called sir. I told her you weren't at the office yet and she hung up."

"If she calls again," I stopped at my office door and turned to Liza. "Hang up on her." And with that I opened my door and stepped inside the large room.

I placed my briefcase on my desk and went over my schedule for the day. I quickly went over the materials for the accounting meeting then got ready for just that. I opened my office door and Liza knew exactly what to do. I handed her the binder I had put together for myself for at the meeting then she followed me to the elevator.

I climbed inside with her and placed my hands behind my back.

I closed my eyes and thought about the dream I had last night. For a man who doesn't get out much, I had quite the imagination.

I was studying at Cambridge back in England when the cutest girl ran into me. She was short and stout and clumsy. I tried to remember what her face looked like and what I was doing that day but my dream wasn't going to give me the details.

I opened my eyes and stared back at the reflecting metal of the elevator door at a hollow man who looked like he was on the verge of death itself. I sighed heavily for the hundredth time, and it was only 7:55 in the morning.

Right as I walked out of the elevator I slammed bodies with another.

"Ow," the other person groaned under their breath. "Sorry." Everyone knows that you don't stand in front of an elevator! Idiot.

"My apologies," I grumbled. I ignored the girl and carried on with my destination. I didn't look back. Part of me wish I had.

After the meeting, Liza followed me back up to the 34th floor. The highest floor of the Robinson Incorporation Building.

Before I showed my secretary out of my office, she said, "Just reminding you that you have shareholder dinner tonight."

"I said I wasn't going." Liza gave me a bored look.

"Sir, I highly recommend that you attend."

"I don't want to. I have plenty of work to do here and at home as it is. I'm not going to a dinner party where a bunch of old men bring their plastic wives who are really just cheating behind their backs."

"Is that why you're not married, Mr. Robinson?"

"I'm not married, Liza, because I don't have time to woo a woman into a loveless marriage. Thank you, and don't forget to shut the door on your way out." She left and I slumped in my chair with a grumble.

That stupid subject again. Marriage. Why aren't I married already? Because I don't want to have a loveless marriage.

Five o'clock passed and I ignored it. I kept to my work and tried to focus on future things coming up.

By ten, I turned off my office lights and slipped on my winter coat. It was snowing outside and man was it cold. I climbed into my car then drove in the light traffic to my flat.

At home I cracked open a bottle of Sapporo and drank until I fell asleep on my desk.

I got up from the alarm on my phone and crawled into the shower for the first time in five days. After that I looked at my unmade bed. The last time I slept in there I don't even know. In my towel I looked around my flat. It was messy. But I didn't have time to clean it up. I looked in the mirror and frowned at my skeletal-like form. I put on a suit which hung from my bones but I didn't have time to shop. Then it was to the office once more.