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*Chapter 2: My New Boss, My New Problem*
His office smelled like money and cold coffee.
Floor-to-ceiling windows. Black desk. No photos. No warmth.
Just him.
Mr. Daniel Carter didn’t look up when I walked in.
He just signed papers. One after another. Like I wasn’t there.
"Abigail Adams," HR had said. "Your new PA."
"Be on time. Don’t talk back. Don’t make mistakes."
I cleared my throat. "Good morning, Mr. Carter. I’m here for—"
"Close the door."
His voice was low. Sharp. It cut through the room.
I did. My hands were sweating.
_No men. Ever again._ I reminded myself.
He finally looked up.
Those ice-cold eyes scanned me from head to toe. Slow. Judging.
Like he could see every crack in me. The heartbreak. The lies.
"You're late."
"I—"
"3 minutes. Don’t let it happen again."
He wasn’t wrong. The elevator took forever. But I nodded anyway.
"Yes, sir."
"Get me coffee. Black. No sugar. And my 9AM schedule."
He tossed a folder across the desk. It landed at my feet.
I bent to pick it up. When I stood, he was already back to his laptop.
Dismissed.
For the next 4 hours, I ran.
Coffee. Files. Calls he didn’t take. Meetings he canceled last minute.
Particular didn’t even cover it. He was a storm.
At 1PM, he finally spoke to me directly.
"Why did you apply for this job?"
The question hit me out of nowhere.
I almost said: _Because I needed to forget him._
Instead I said: "I’m good at my job, sir."
He leaned back in his chair and studied me again.
"Most girls quit in a week."
"I'm not most girls."
Something flickered in his eyes. Not softness. Something else.
Interest? Annoyance? I couldn’t tell.
"Good," he said. "Because I don’t do sympathy. Or drama. Or distractions."
His gaze dropped to my hands. No ring.
Then back to my face.
My heart did that stupid thing again.
It skipped.
_No,_ I thought. _Not him. Anyone but him._
The intercom buzzed.
"Mr. Carter, your 2PM is here."
He stood. Towering. 6'3 at least.
As he walked past me, his cologne hit me. Dark. Wood. Expensive.
He paused at the door.
"Abigail."
"Yes, sir?"
"Don’t disappoint me."
And then he was gone.
I exhaled. I didn’t even realize I’d been holding my breath.
_No men. Ever again._
So why did my pulse still feel like that night in Room 402?
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Ready for *Chapter 3: The Overtime That Changed Everything*? 👀😜
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