appreciated pants on a woman. You should wear skirts more often. See that you do.” There was no shame on his face.
Did he just tell me what to wear? Mary said nothing , but smiled pleasantly . She supposed he could afford to be sexist, being obscenely rich and all. Normally, Mary wouldn’t have tolerated such behavior in the workplace. But Mr. White was exceptionally handsome, and she was flattered rather than disgusted from his remarks. She gazed at his i mpassive face and wondered the CEO of White field Malls was actually attracted to her.
“ Get someo ne to replace the light bulbs.”
Cruel reality set in . She was his assistant, nothing more. He just sees me as his personal slave. “Of course, Mr. White . Perhaps you would like me to open the shades to let some— ”
Mr. White silenced her with a deadly glare. The shadows around his eyes were accentuated by the glow of the computer, and it frightened her. He was such a peculiar man. Every morning , he would drive directly in the parking garage and use the elevator to get to his office. He demanded that the shades in the office must always be closed and shut. Once, Mary had allowed a sliver of sunshine to filter through her window and Mr. White had walked through it. He let out a guttural howl and then wrenched her into his office, where he reduced her to tears by calling her incompetent, stupid, and every imaginable insult in the world.
He was allergic to the sun and could not tolerate a ray of sunlight, no matter how small . He also forbade his staff to enter his office at certain hours of the day. Probably jacks off to some sort of sick, twist ed porn he keeps in his drawer, she thought with malice.
“You will resent me,” he had warned her when she was hired . “You will probably hate me. I am a perfectionist, Miss Kramar, and I expect the best out of you. Every. Single. Day.”
“I will, Mr. White,” she had said in earnest. “You won’t be disappointed.”
“I certainly hope so. I’ve been through several incompetent assistants. See that you don’t become one of them.”
At the time, she had been taken by his beauty. His wavy brown l ocks ran down his head as if they had been ironed on. His dark, forbidding eyes hid behind thick, long lashes. He wore a constant scowl on his face, but had no wrinkles. He was uncharacteristically pale and had hollow cheeks, but all of this suited him. He was a formidable man, and Mary felt uncomfortable under his presence . It was as if she was being x-rayed. She had applied to the job without any experience, fully expecting her resume to be tossed in the nearest bin. S omehow, miraculously, she had gotten the job.
Mary left his office and starting searching for bulbs in the supply closet. She had been working for him for three months, and every time she felt like quitting—which was almost daily—she would retrieve a pay stub that she kept in her pocket and stare at the num bers. Two thousand four- hundred and fifty. Every week.
She took it out now and studied the numbers, blowing out her cheeks. No, she couldn’t refuse that amount of money . No matter how awful he was.
Mary found box es of light bulbs and snatched one. She also found a ladder which she lugged with her. She dragged the ladder into Mr. White ’s office and set it up under the light fixture. Mr. White was engaged in a loud, angry conversation on his telephone and ignored her. He adamantly refused to get a cell phone. The marketing department had distributed free iPhones to every senior manager and upper-level management officer. Mr. White had tossed his in the garbage while Mary had looked on in disbelief .
“That’s a four-hundred dollar phone you just threw away.”
He had given her a sharp glance that made her bite her tongue .
“It’s r idiculous,” he had muttered in disdain at the touch screen display. “All I use a phone for is conversations. Why does a phone need all this nonsense?”
The office was pitch black and
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