Chapter 11: Murphy's Law
Murphy's Eighth Law stated that 'if everything seems to be going well, you have obviously overlooked something'.
I didn't know the true meaning of that until I stumbled upon the man before me who was being introduced as my new superior.
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
My boss' mouth twisted in an unflattering manner at my unfiltered words. "Miss Crew, mind your language."
"I'm sorry," I squeaked out the apology, mentally chastising myself for letting my instinct win over my rationality.
"But why is he here, sir?" I asked my boss who was an overweight fifty plus year old man who had the tendency of letting his gaze linger on me for far too long.
He was caught up doing the same thing right then, his eyes memorizing the shape of my lips and I couldn't help but cringe.
"Mr. Gomez." I called for his attention in a higher pitch and was successful in doing so when he blinked rapidly. His disgusting gaze met mine before he introduced the main culprit of today.
I hadn't seen the gorgeous man in a while, with the exception of the sinful dream I had about him at the beginning of the week.
It was a new week.
So, that meant I hadn't have the misfortune of coincidentally bumping into him somewhere since then.
For some reason, my subconscious has been telling me it's only a matter of time whenever I thought about seeing those bright eyes of his again.
And as we stood, face to face, him sporting the most shameless look on his face at blatantly stalking me, I realized that it was right.
I had asked myself time and time again why I didn't have the courage to call the cops whenever he showed up and get a restraining order against him if possible. However, any thoughts of that disappeared into mid air anytime I had the privilege of staring at his face. It almost seemed unworthy of me to an extent to be able to gaze at him, and from the repeated glances my boss gave him, that had surely been the case for him as well.
See? Regardless of one's gender he was universally irresistible.
"Miss Crew, this is the new director of the entertainment column, Mr. Moretti. He'll be your new supervisor."
With a formal hand held out towards me, 'Mr. Moretti' flashed me a courteous smile, "It's a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Ms. Crew. I've heard many things about you."
Mr. Gomez's eyebrows raised. "Oh really?"
"Yes, I heard around that she's exceptionally good at her job, especially her oral skills."
My mouth dropped open at the sexual connotations that was laced with.
My boss coughed at his open analysis of me from head to toe. An unsettled expression painted his face before he stood between the two of us, a forced smile gripping lips. "That's great. All good things then. I think you two will get along fine. Miss Crew," My head turned to regard him quietly. "I have something to discuss with you. Could you please follow me to my office?"
I nodded and followed behind the man.
Even though I willed myself not to turn around and look, I couldn't help it and took a peek at Angelo.
Yup, definitely Angelo.
He didn't have his usual silver eyes but the brown pair he sported watched me go from the same spot with an unreadable face.
My mouth twisted wryly.
How the fuck did he manage to get a job here?
Had he always worked in this field? That could have explained the costly apartment building he resided in.
Then did that mean his waiter job was only a part time?
Or maybe he had been covering for a friend?
Then could somebody please explain his goddamn pizza delivery job?
All of this seemed too much like it was planned to be a coincidence.
But was Angelo crafty enough to do all of these things? Did he have so much power to put himself in whatever situation he wanted whenever he wanted? The thought of that seemed ridiculous but seeming as I had witnessed him get thrown into a brick wall and had no injuries, then this didn't appear too far fetched. As much I tried to deny it, he was no normal person. I had done my own research based on his abilities I've witnessed before; enhanced strength, levitation, sedation, inhuman speed and after much consideration, I came to a mind-blowing conclusion.
That being...
Dun dun dun!
I didn't know what the hell he was!
He didn't fit the description of any supernatural being out there.
First, I had started from a plain magician, but had to cancel the thought upon the realization that this was more than mastered tricks. Also because of the fact that none of this brought any sense of entertainment. Maybe if he was a sadist then that would've been possible but noâneither of us were enjoying it in that light.
Then I thought he was a vampire.
After all the movies and tv shows I've watched depicting them there had to be something close to reality, right? Not everything came directly from one's imagination. They had to have been inspired by something or someone, correct?
That's what I convinced myself over and over again. Then I compared what I had witnessed in Angelo's presence to the common bloodsucker and let me tell you, he was definitely no Edward Cullen.
In fact, he made the entire clan of them seem like a big fat joke.
At this point of discernment, I was completely lost in my research.
Because of my career, I had always been someone who bought something only after being provided the facts and adequate research. I couldn't just run with something out of instinct. Due to this professional illness, I convinced myself to drop it. That maybe it had all been a figment of my imaginationâwhich I knew deep down was highly unlikely. Also, there were some things which were better left unknown. After all, curiosity killed the cat. And the only pussy I wanted to be on the verge of death was most definitely not the metaphorical one.
I knocked onto the broad door of Mr. Gomez's office since I fell behind after being consumed by my theories of Angelo.
His assistant, Jenny, had told me to brace myself when I pinched and asked her if she had any clue about what he wanted to see me for.
What that meant...I guess I was gonna find out.
My boss was seated in his office chair, hands folded onto the table. He scanned me with calculating eyes before pulling at the tie around his neck as if it was choking him. Probably was with all the extra neck fat he was sporting. It made him look like Peter Griffin, and not even in the good way.
"Take a seat, Miss Crew." He ordered and I did as he asked, folding my legs out of habit. For a short second, I swore his eyes followed the act.
"You've been working for us ever since you graduated, straight out of college." He started with an air of appreciation as he got straight to it. Yes, this had been common knowledge to both of us. As much as I've been proud of how far I have come, I didn't think he would call me here just for a timeline of my career. And I was right. "And as you've been patient with your promotion, it's shown how hardworking and persistent you are despite not getting enough credit."
"Thank you for your guidance all this time, sir."
"So I'm not gonna beat around the bush anymore," He leant forward and licked his lips. "There's a position for chief editor that's available and I've recommended you for it."
"Really?" I squeaked, not being able to hide my excitement.
He nodded.
My boss had recommended me? Me! The possibilities of how much I could achieve being so high up the professional hierarchy got me in a daze. I started to daydream about all my future plans. I was in awe just by the thought of my name plaque that would be placed in my office.
"But," My elation instantly died down at that one conjunction.
Nothing good ever came from hearing it in a situation like this.
There was always some kind of catch.
I watched him curiously as he got out of his seat, which itself was a hassle for him because of the body mass he had. He took a much needed deep breath after having done so before walking towards me. I shrunk back in my seat as he hovered far too close for my comfort. I practically hopped out of my seat when he put his hands on my exposed right leg.
"M-Mr. Gomez, what do you think that you're doing?" I was more shocked by what was happening than anything else.
"I've always wondered about those oral abilities of yours. You've come a long way in a short period of time. Rumor has it you've been...satisfying your past superiors in more ways than one."
"Excuse me?"
"Oh, don't act innocent, Isabelle." My eyes flared at the use of my first name. It sounded like a hiss off a serpent's tongue. He tried to touch my shoulders but I flinched away from him making him frown. "You and I both know that you've been giving me signs all this time."
"The only sign I'll be giving you is one using my middle finger." I snapped.
"You were always the spicy one, weren't you?" He grinned as if I told him the funniest thing in the world.
I blinked incredulously.
Mr. Gomez caught sight of my expression which morphed into one of disgust. He shrugged before stomping back to his original place behind his desk. "If you're not comfortable with going all the way, you can just please me on your knees. It's no different from what you normally do at church."
"Sir, with all due respect, you can go fuck yourself."
He flinched at the pure hatred within my tone before leaning back against his seat. "Fine." He said through clenched teeth. "Have it your way. You can't say that I didn't give you a chance to uplift yourself."
"By asking me to lower myself? No thanks." I cringed before storming out of his office in a fit of rage.
If I hadn't done so right then and there maybe I would've choked him more than the tie around his neck was doing.
But something told me he would probably like that with how much of a sick bastard he was.
When I walked out, I stumbled upon someone. With angry tears running down my face I saw Angelo's blurred image. Not even bothering to hide my embarrassment, I shoved him by the shoulders and went to wallow away in my self pity at home.
Screw being diligent and honest towards your work. That got you nowhere when predators like Mr. Gomez called the shots at the end of the day. And that sucks beyond words could ever express.
***
Thank god you didn't.