THE OLD SELF IS BACK

It is a serene Friday evening, the gentle tick-tock of my wristwatch marking the passage of time, quarter past eight. A yawn escapes me, a signal of the day's weariness, as I stretch my tired muscles before settling back at my desk. This week has been a cascade of pure joy and contentment, with every moment spent at work bringing fulfillment because, finally, I am doing what I love. I feel rejuvenated, as if each day brings a new beginning. I am back to feeling the kick of my real self.


The atmosphere in the office is tranquil and welcoming, save for a couple of individuals whose grievances towards me remain a mystery. But amidst them, everyone else is a delight, sweet as candy. Competence and assertiveness reign supreme here; each person knows their role precisely, eliminating the need for any hand-holding. Credit is due to Davon for fostering such an environment and, of course, to my boss, whose leadership sets the tone for our team's success.

But much more credit goes to, you know,. My boss. He has invested not just in his business but also in his employees. There are no lurkies here. Everyone knows what they are here for and needs no ordering around. Competency is played on a higher-key note here. Then again, I surmised that, given how he himself does not joke with his business, he would not let anyone pull him down. He has instilled such discipline and focus here.

Thinking about him makes my blood boil already—with longing, of course. Don't get me wrong. We haven't been naughty in any way. There was just so much I had to do to harmonize and acquaint myself with everything and everyone, and he was there beside me. All the steps of the way, as promised. Hand in hand, he showed me around and introduced me to anyone. At some point, I felt like he was showing me off. But that was just my thought.


After I was okay and conversant with everything, he gave me ample space and time to start on my projects in coordination with my assigned team of six members, but he made sure to check on me so often. Never at any time have I missed his presence and care, despite his busy schedule. Sometimes he is the one who reminds me about taking meals and breaks because, well, the workaholic ass, Ellie Marrie Riccaford, just resurfaced the moment I got this job. He is all candy, but we are still keeping a low profile, presumably.

"How is my sweet workaholic fiancee doing?"


I jab my head up from the computer to hear the voice of my sweet, dazzling hottie. Talk of my sweet, handsome devil! He is probably the only person left on this floor, where the offices are located.

"I am doing good. You?" I respond after we trade a kiss.

"I would be fine if only you could stop overworking your ass," he states, and I smile.

He can be a dirty-mouthed jerk at times—correct, most of the time—but I kind of like it sometimes. It depicts his arrogant but sweet side, which turns my dark side on.

And just look who is talking, huh? He is managing a line of motels and a tremendous gym! Come on! I still wonder how he copes with multitasking. And ooh, there is me, whom he never neglects.

"Well, this ass is meant to stay fixed on this chair until it accomplishes the work you hired me for," I mumble.

"Well, not just that. I need it for something else too."

Huh! Being a jerk again?

"I see. You gotta wait then, boss," I say.

"Is the work too much?" he asks, peering at my computer, but I doubt he can see anything clearly from here.

"Not really. I just need to finish this real quick," I say.

"You shouldn't work this late, Ellie. I won't get mad if you lurk on a single project or just a day. Come on!" he says.

Is he feeling guilty now? I have been doing this all my life, since I started working. I don't even remember my father, who almost killed me with work, telling me to take a break. He was, on the contrary, challenging and pushing me to do more and more and more. This is just compared to what I can handle, honestly.

"Hey! I am just doing my job, Damian!" I defend myself, or rather, state the obvious, desiring to wipe off these furrows on his face. It doesn't suit him at all.

He checks his Rolex wristwatch, and he deeply frowns. "It is past working hours, babe. You are the only one left here." He sits on the table beside me, giving me the pleasure of breathing in his sweet scent.

That reminds me that we haven't been intimate for this entire week either. He has been sweet on everything else aside from fucking me. I'm kind of thirsty. And I hope I am not enacting the same blunder that that jerkass Leo accused me of. We learn from past mistakes, right? I wouldn't want to have a recap of that. And perhaps that is why I am already there whenever he is, and also why I make advances every chance I get. I wouldn't want to neglect him in any way.

"Only one?" I query. I had to cock an eyebrow at that because I am obviously not the only one, right?

"You know I can't leave you here. I was waiting for you so that we could go home together," he says.

Like always. He never leaves me behind. We have become so integral. He picks me up from my house in the morning and drops me off after work. Sweet, right?

"Well, I feel special that my boss doesn't have the heart to leave me behind. Is this how it's always going to be?" I'm just asking. My feelings are strong on this one. So strong.

He leans so close to my face, making me blush as I read his lips. "Always. Always!I will never even give you a reason or a chance to be tired of me. Of this." He steals a kiss that I couldn't deny him. "I organized dinner for us. It should be here any minute," he says after we pull away, fondling my lower lip with his thumb.

Dinner? Right here? "Here?" I implore.