Chosen By Him

by Gracia Ford

  “So, are you going to get out?” he asked. “Just leave your bags in there, no one will take them.”

  I smiled, as if that was on my mind. I was used to carrying my things wherever I went. I didn’t have a car, so I wasn’t used to leaving them behind, but I couldn’t say that, otherwise I would seem poor

  “Of course!” I replied as I stepped out of the limo. The seats were so comfy, I’d nearly fallen asleep in the car.

  My stomach rumbled as I moved. How embarrassing!

  “Hungry?” he asked as he stepped beside me.

  Cheekily, I replied, “How can you tell?” with a half smile.

  It was only at that point I recognizedour surroundings. We were at Central Park.

  How romantic!

  It was quiet where we were, with just a few couples walking by. I sometimes jogged in Central Park on Sundays to take in my surroundings and the beauty that the city offered; it was one of the most scenic parks I’d ever been to. Saying that, I hadn’t been to many other parks only ones in Montezuma.

  “Time will tell,” he said, just as I was about to ask a question.

  We walked in silence. I thought that I was either speaking out loud or I was just too predictable. Either way, it felt like he was anticipating everything that I was saying. I didn’t like it one bit. I liked to be in control, especially because I had been dominated by John, my family, and spent all my live in a small town. This was the first time in a long time that I had actually felt free, free to be who I was. I wasn’t quite sure who that person was yet, but I knew time would tell, especially being somewhere where no one cares about you.

  We walked side by side. He was still using his phone from time to time. He stopped in front of me on a patch of grass with a table.

  Seriously, was this his idea of grabbing a drink? What if I’d said no?

  I was just about to ask him the questions in my mind when he anticipated me again. “I knew you would say yes. What secretary would say no to a drink with their boss?”

  Oh, who was I kidding!

  He pulled out a chair for me to sit down, as if we were in a restaurant. He seemed oblivious to the people walking by trying not to stare, to the beautiful stars shining in the sky, and to the lovely aroma that was wafting from the food.

  My word, food too–no, not just food. A chef, with a tray!

  “Good evening, Ms. Clark. I have prepared some appetizers for you and Mr. Reid. I hope you enjoy them.”

  “Use the basin in front of you to clean your hands first and the towel to wipe them,” Mr. Reid said as he sat down and I did the same as the waiter carefully pushed in my chair.

  “Yes, sir. Should I have showered before I came here too?” I frowned and looked at him, but he was too busy watching me wash my hands. He was trying to make sure that I did as I was told before I touched anything.

  I was starting to feel embarrassed. I couldn’t even think of the last time a man had told me to wash my hands. I think Pops did when I was about five! I lowered my hands into the bowl and raised my head as I used the napkin to wipe them. He was nodding his head in approval. Now I really felt like a five year old.

  I waited for him to give me approval to take an appetizer. I could have eaten the whole tray, I was so hungry. But I knew he would probably scold me for being greedy if I did.

  “Is that all you want?” he asked as I took a spring roll and put it on my plate. I was looking at the sad, lonely spring roll and wondering if I should take another one.

  “Take what you need, not what you think you should take.”

  I grinned and then I took four from the tray and put them on my plate. He had a grin on his face as he watched. That’s when I noticed that there was another tray on his side of the table, with the same amount of food on it.

  Gee, I was so slow at times, we had our own trays ! Now I understood why he was edging me to take more. Silly me.

  He made me feel very anxious all of the time. Like I needed to watch myself with him, like I couldn’t be myself. I knew that wasn’t entirely abnormal, he was my boss after all. What boss wouldn’t make you feel nervous, being in the middle of Central Park with a waiter and chef. It was perfectly normal.

  “So?”

  “Are you going to eat or just stare at it?”

  “Sorry.”

  “Why do you keep apologizing?”

  “Because—” because when I look at you all I want to do is have you take me in your arms and rip my clothes off, and when I don’t look at you I can feel your eyes burning into me like you can see me naked. That’s what I wanted to say, but not what I said. “It’s because we’re in the middle of Central Park,” I whispered, as if everyone was listening.

  “Ahh, you feel nervous about our surroundings?” he said, rolling up his sleeves and eating the spring rolls with a hunger that suggested he hadn’t eaten anything all day.

  I was happy to see that he was hungry too. I glanced at my watch and saw it was nearly ten. Time had flown by.

  Time continued to fly by. We ate and he educated me about the bottles of wine that must have been stored in a secret chamber under the park. Before my glass was even empty it was filled up again and again, until I completely forgot that I was in the middle of a park and that I was attracted to my boss and really couldn’t handle my liquor.

  ***

  Apparently, I started singing and talking very loudly in the park, so we got into the limo. Richard drove me home. He escorted me to my room and laid me on my bed.

  He came to my desk as soon as I walked into the office. I was wearing my sunglasses, as I still had a hangover from Friday night. I spent most of Saturday sleeping it off. Beth claimed the best way to get rid of a hangover was to drink some more. On Sunday night it was apparent that her solution to my problem was not working, and Monday morning I felt worse than I had the other two nights.

  “That was a nice evening. Next time I will remember not to mix the wines or so many bottles at once, or to offer you shots,” he said cheekily.

  Gee, I really couldn’t hold my drink.

  All I could do in my state was smell him and think about that night and how romantic it had been. I wished it had ended on a better note, because after all that drinking my memories of the night were vague. “Don’t worry, I was a gentleman and did not try to seduce you even when you were dancing in the middle of the park, or when I brought you home and put you to bed,” he said as he walked away.

  I sat and frowned to myself, thinking about making a fool of myself. My thoughts screeched to a grinding halt when Megan came to my desk.

  “So, why the glasses?”

  “Drank too much on the weekend.”

  “Ah, the dreaded hangover. So, why did Reid come over then? I saw him walking away with a smile on his face.”

  Damn, she was nosey.

  “We’re in the middle of autumn and I come in with dark glasses and, as much as I’ve tried, I still feel hungover. Not sure why until now.” I replied to her.

  “Wait, were you drinking with him?” She pointed towards his office. Her long hair waved in my face and she practically spat at me when she spoke.

  I realized then that I didn’t just have a big mouth when I was drunk, but also when I was hungover.

  “Did I say that?” I asked nervously, hoping that someone would rescue me from this interrogation. I tried to pull away, but she could see that I was avoiding her question.

  “So, did you?”

  “Yes. Friday night, after work.”

  “Oh,” she remarked, standing next to me.

  I hoped that was enough and that she would leave me alone, but I had a feeling that it was going to get worse. Avoiding her eyes didn’t help, and the lights in the office felt really bright.

  “So, you fucked your boss on the weekend and now you’re playing Ms. Innocent with the hangover,” she shouted at the top of her lungs, poking a finger at me.

  I didn’t know what her problem was, but my blood was boiling.

  How dare
she try and humiliate me in the office.

  “Ladies, what’s going on here?”

  I was standing up, confused about her reaction. What was her fucking problem, I wanted to ask, but Jackson was standing next to us and staring at her.

  “Nothing,” she replied, before walking away.

  We both watched her walk away, swaying her hips from side to side. She stopped and turned her head, lowering her glasses as if to warn me. But warn me of what? I still didn’t know what was going on. I wasn’t sure who was intimidating me more, her or Reid.

  “Look,” Jackson whispered in my ear, “I know about Friday and I think it would be best to keep it to yourself.”

  I was just about to open my mouth in defense and tell him that nothing happened when he held up his finger to silence me and turned his head so that no one could see what he was doing.

  “People talk and they get the wrong impression about Mr. Reid, especially with what happened with Emma.”

  Why are they always the famous last words?

  “So, he took you out and you got a bit tipsy.”

  “Drunk.”

  “Call it what you like. The main thing is you got home safely and, by the look of things,” he chuckled, “you’re still recovering from your ordeal. No harm done.”

  I nodded.

  “I think you should stick to your job as a secretary. From what I heard about Friday, you would not do well as a singer,” he added with another chuckle.

  He was right, I couldn’t sing, which is why I never did it in public. I raised my hands to my face and shook my head.

  “Good, now can you complete the Wilkenshire report before you fly out to London tonight.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Did you not read your email?”

  “No.”

  “One was sent at 7a.m.”

  No wonder I never read it. Didn’t he see that I’d just arrived?

  “I can see you are not making good use of your Blackberry.”

  “No, it’s in my drawer. I thought it was for work, so I left it here. When I finish work I put it back in the drawer.”

  “My dear, it was stipulated in your contract.”

  He was talking about the one that told me my hours and how much I was earning. I signed it without reading it. Did he really think I was going to read the whole thing in one day?

  “You’re his personal secretary.”

  “I thought that’s what you were?”

  “No, I’m his personal assistant, you’re his personal secretary,” he said slowly, as if talking to an adolescent. Or maybe it was because I was hungover--was I acting like a complete idiot?

  “So, you need to be on call in times of emergencies outside of the office, which is why we gave you the Blackberry, not so it can be in a drawer but so it can be in your hand. Always,” he said, nodding his head and looking directly into my eyes.

  Did everyone think I didn’t understand English? Maybe I should have called in sick. I was annoyed and it was only 9a.m. It was going to be a long day, especially if I was going to London.

  Again I nodded and decided that I needed to read the contract. Right after I’d packed for London.

  Chapter 4: London

  I got a message—the car was on its way to pick me up. It would be there in fifteen minutes. Which was what I was expecting. The flight details said that we would take off at eleven thirty, so we needed to leave the apartment by eight to check-in and relax a bit. I asked Mr. Reid if he was on the same flight; he said he hadn´t checked, but he should be. Jackson reassured me he would be on the same flight. He was not the one I wanted to make sure was there.

  “Still can´t understand why I´m going?” I asked as I gave Beth the biggest hug in the world.

  “Can I go instead?”

  I pushed her back as I could tell she was mocking me.

  “Damn, girl, you have a chance to fly probably first class with your hot boss and you’re complaining! Some people are never satisfied,” she said while helping me get out of the door.

  “It´s not about being satisfied. It´s about expectations. I mean, apart from taking notes, I´ve done nothing else since I´ve been there.”

  She waved her finger at me and said, “That´s not strictly true. I mean didn´t you go on the Excel course for developers?”

  “I suppose.”

  “Haven´t you been learning French?”

  “Sure.”

  “Didn´t you do that fantastic analysis on how to improve reporting that you demonstrated and they are adopting in the office?”

  “I guess,” I replied as I entered the elevator, realizing that not only was I too hard on myself, but my self-esteem was so low. When did that happen?

  She kissed me on the forehead like a mother does with their little child and it brought a big smile to my face. I thought to myself that I was going on the trip because I was a valued employee—nothing more and nothing less.

  As the elevator doors opened, I was surprised to see Jackson standing there like a lost lamb.

  “You´re right. He really is hot,” Beth whispered in my ears. I was about to protest and tell her that it wasn’t Carson, but before I had the chance, Jackson was by our sides taking my suitcase and formally introducing himself with a handshake.

  “Jackson, and may I be so bold to assume that you are Beth Saunders?” he said while shaking Beth´s hand.

  She let out a sigh and sneaked a look at me. Then she enveloped her hand with Jackson´s and said, “You may be so bold.”

  “Now we have the introductions out of the way, can we move on?” asked Jackson rudely.

  “Yes, you better run along,” said Beth, winking while continually eyeing up Jackson. Maybe because I spent so much time with him, I didn’t see him in that light. I mean, he did look good in his layers of grey. From his jacket to jersey to pants.

  Gosh, he was so uptight. I mean it was June and he was dressed like he was going out to combat or something.

  "You did check the weather forecast, didn´t you, Ms. Clark?"

  "Sorry?" I questioned, while he stood at the car, opening the door for me to enter.

  "I mean, you´re dressed like you’re going to the Bahamas, not London."

  He slammed the door shut and I sat there looking at my white pencil skirt and slightly heeled sandals thinking he was right. I wasn´t thinking. I was so busy daydreaming about going to London and being there with Carson that it didn´t dawn on me to check the forecast.

  I’d asked Beth what I should pack and her only response was clothes. I was too busy trying to look decent on my limited closet now, I just feel like a fool. I have my shirt and a light jersey on to go with it, obviously I needed more clothes on.

  Please, let it be as warm or if not, slightly colder than here. As he sat next to me, sizing up my clothing, he said with disgust, "You really need to do some shopping, before we even get on that plane."

  Then, he continued to do what he was so good at doing: shifting and messing around with his iPad, like his life depended on it. I just sat and sulked, hoping that Jackson would not be sitting next to me on the plane. Couldn´t think of anything worse.

  ***

  “Sorry.”

  “What?” I asked when we arrived at the store and the driver opened the car door for me to exit the car.

  As he stood by my side, he went on further. “You only found out this morning we were going to London and it was insensitive of me to make such comments. Sorry,”he said as he guided me into the store. Did I get an apology from Jackson? Wow, that was a first. Olivia said he was like a closed door, like Carson. The thing was, I´d seen Carson open and I liked what I saw. I couldn’t say the same about Jackson, until now.

  “It´s okay, you´re right. I should have checked the forecast,” I said as I looked around the shop and saw the big Gucci symbol and realized we were in Gucci. I wanted to jump up and down like a kid with candy until it dawned on me to wonder who was going to pay for it?

  Like he read my mind
, he whispered in my ear, “My way of an apology. This is on me.”

  I wanted to say for real, but I couldn’t speak, and he nodded his head as he could see how excited I was about our little stopover. Hey, maybe the trip wasn´t going to be so bad after all.

  As we left Gucci, Jackson a few thousand dollars lighter and me with a couple of winter coats, pants, and blouses, I felt like the world had been lifted off my shoulders. All anxiety about the trip had been put aside. The funny thing was, I revealed a secret to Jackson—that I´d never been shopping with a man. The guy has taste, he knew what to pick up before I did. It was bizarre. He had no problem picking up clothes and deciding if they were a good fit. I laughed at thought of being with Pops and bro in the same position and I could see both their faces squirming with the idea of doing such a thing.

  As we headed back to the limo, we talked and really got along. I was seeing a whole new side of Jackson that I never thought I would like or even knew existed. Olivia had been on a couple of dates with him and she was always telling me to lighten up on him because he was a nice guy, but then Olivia said that about everyone in the office, so I never believed her. She was right, he was a bit of a comedian. He talked about all the different characters in the office and especially the men who drooled over me and felt the need to cast their eyes more on the bottom half of me while talking to me than on the top half.

  I thought that we had a flight to catch, but I should have known that we would be on a private jet. That explained why we were not making our way to JFK airport, but to a private hanger, where we took off and I found myself not only sitting next to Jackson, but alone with Jackson.

  As a typical lightweight, one hour in the air and I was sleeping like a baby in the leather lounge seats. They were comfortable beyond belief. I woke up to Jackson lightly nudging me to get up. He stayed up the whole time and was repeating all the noises and sounds I’d made while sleeping. It was a good thing he didn´t ask what I was dreaming about, although I sense he guessed it, in a word Carson. Damn, I could never get that man off my mind.

  ***

  I was surprised that Jackson was driving, as we were met by a man that appeared to be a chauffeur. He’d handed the keys to Jackson and then he opened up the passenger door and I jumped in, then the guy just put our bags in the back and we drove off.