The billionaire's sweet editor
Chapter 33: Iris: Anyone but him

Chapter 33: Iris: Anyone but him

I SOLEMNLY swear that I will not bring alcoholic beverages to my lips ever again. Last night was a ride. I remember everything of course, but that’s the main reason why I’m embarrassed right now.

Groping Lucas everywhere, calling his name out loud in the living room after literally begging him to have me on all fours, and telling him he can fuck me raw.

What was I thinking?

Thank god Mary had morning-after pills, I was too reckless, too horny, and too tipsy to care. Then again, there was this morning. I have no valid excuse for my behavior this morning.

Aaargh!

Typing furiously on my keyboard, I send a message to my assigned writer, asking her to meet up with me at the company cafeteria this afternoon. Her writing is impeccable, but it’s a bit off-putting. I wasn’t able to finish her article due to its bluntness and repetitive nature.

It’s like she was writing a how-to apply makeup 101 to beginner makeup artists, which would be nice if only she wrote a less overly detailed article. Seeing as it’s our second month together, I let it go. I know she’ll learn with time. I want her to remember me when she becomes the best version of her writer self.

"Good morning people." Turning to the door, Keith walks to my desk, waving at the others and bending next to me till he’s within earshot. "And you, why haven’t you and Lucas called me for the research yet?"

"Good morning to you too Keith," I sarcastically hiss at him, my eyes dropping in what I want to look like a disappointment. "I don’t know why he hasn’t called you yet. Go and ask him once he comes back from his meeting."

Keith stands and walks to his desk, which is right next to mine. "I thought I would ask the girlfriend to do it. Won’t that score me some points from him?" He places his laptop on his desk, turning to face me, eyes opened wide.

I keep forgetting we’re supposed to be a couple at work. Giving him a crooked smile, I say: "He doesn’t like people who mix personal life and work."

"Hmm, that does sound like him," Keith nods, turning to focus on his work instead.

Unlike us who get assigned a writer and have to give them guidance in writing the best articles and editing their errors and English, he gets to edit the English only—for now at least.

"Heard he wants to make it to number one on the bestseller’s list before the charity event next month."

I snap my eyes from my computer, blinking at Keith like he just cursed the CEO. "Where did you hear that from?"

He shrugs. "It’s everywhere. I heard it in the cafeteria from—cough—I can’t say the names."

Raising my brows at him and slowly turning back to my laptop, I crack my knuckles. Did his Dad go about telling everyone his son’s business like he did to me?

That would be such a dick move.

Clicking my tongue and rubbing my temple, I return to talking with my writer who just agreed to meet up with me at the cafeteria two hours from now. I send her a text thanking her for her time before I’m back to jotting down some of the errors we need to discuss.

We have a week left before the draft is reviewed by Lucas for publication and I do not wish to be on his "careful inspection" list. It’s like a shaming radar where the most incompetent editors are graded from loser to god-tier loser.

Keith is god-tier. Bless his little heart.

Two and half hours later, I’m sitting in the cafeteria opposite my writer, 28-year-old makeup enthusiast, and freelancer, Natasha, a beautiful black lady with small glimmering studs and a shiny bald head. I don’t know why but those are the two most outstanding features she has.

The scent of fresh coffee beans fills the entire edifice, paired with a couple of sweet scents protruding from the bakeries. Natasha has ordered herself a cappuccino, and me, some mango juice which is half empty now.

We are seated at the table placed right by the door—the same table Lucas properly apologized to me on after a series of assaults that led to me cursing him out. Fighting the urge to laugh at the memory of how he looked after I called him a dick, I open my notebook, placing my iPad on my lap.

"Your writing is nice, please, I want you to remember that. It’s just the unnecessary wording that we need to remove to allow space for some photographs okay? Try not to over-explain everything."

"No...wording...," she drags the words out of her mouth like a kindergarten kid, jotting the points down. Once she’s done, Natasha scratches her head. "So I need to remove unnecessary words, replace some with synonyms, and make the tone more chic friendly, and modern?"

"Bingo," I give her a double thumbs up as a waiter excuses himself and takes the empty side plates from our table that had doughnuts a while ago.

"What about my grammar and English?"

"You’re a pro at that, hun."

We talk more about some areas she might need to improve, and Natasha being the sweet enthusiastic woman she is writes everything down, showing me just how much she wants to improve. In an hour we’re done and I’m sending her to the car park.

"Call me if you have any more questions, okay?"

Giving me a wink, she gets in her car, driving out the gate whilst I wave at her. Once she disappears from my view, I turn to head back inside. I’m walking towards the elevator opposite the reception when I hear someone calling my name.

"Iris!" She calls again, this time sounding a bit desperate.

I reverse my steps, peeking at the white space consumed by our reception. Bertha takes a deep breath and calls out my name again, loudly this time.

"Jesus, you’ll rip your throat old woman. I’m right here." I flip myself walking to her desk. She’s lucky no clients are sticking around the area, otherwise she’d be at risk of getting fired.

"I thought you’d ignored me."

"Come on, why would I ignore you? I just didn’t hear you okay."

"Got it. Anyways, Kayla told me to tell you to wait for her once you were done with your meeting in the cafeteria."

My heart thuds in my chest. What did I do that has the HR manager asking to meet me?

"Where is she?" I ask looking around and doing my best to conceal my anxiety.

"She’ll be here soon, you can wait for her whilst sitting here," Bertha points at the chair next to her. I round the semi-circle desk, heels making noise in the entire reception until I’m sat. Then the questions begin once again.

What did I do? Am I getting fired? Wait, did Mr. Andrews finally decide I’m not good enough for the deal he made with me? Is he getting rid of me now?

Ugh, I hate this. I hate waiting for the unexpected because that’s it, you never know what’s coming your way. Even though there’s jazz music playing in the background and Bertha is talking to a young lady who’s asking for directions, my mind is a fucking mess. I can’t stop myself from overthinking.

I scoot away from the reception and allow Bertha ample space to talk to the client. Fidgeting with my fingers, I bite my lip. When is she coming?

As if I summoned her, Kayla appears through the front door, hand in hand with the last person I want showing up at the company right now when the news about Lucas and me dating is still flying.

Jerald.

He’s smiling at her as she says something, slapping his bicep playfully when he whispers something in her ear. I’ve never been so happy for him, he looks so in love, and judging by the way the both of them are smiling at each other, they’re having fun.

A prickling sensation bubbles within the happiness I’m containing for them, and I try to shake it off, but I can’t. Not when they laugh out loud together and Jerald pulls her into a light hug, giving her this look I’ve never seen in his eyes before.

Envy. This sensation can’t be anything else other than envy. I also want a love similar to theirs.

"There she is!" Jerald exclaims beaming at me like never before. "You little rascal, you’re keeping secrets from your big brother now, huh?"

I scrunch my face trying to make sense of what he’s saying.

"Will you stop playing innocent?" He gestures for me to come closer and I do, rounding the table until I’m sandwiched between him and Kayla who looks too excited for whatever they want to tell me. Bertha leans in too.

"Why did you hide the fact that you have a boyfriend from me?"

My eyes grow wide. I don’t even dare to look at Jerald in the eyes. Kayla that little shit, did Jerald dick her down so good she had no choice but to tell him about my relationship status.

"Mary too," Bertha quips sounding a little bit too excited for someone snitching, "I saw her kissing the man yesterday when he came to pick her up last night."

Okay, so maybe it’s not Jerald’s dick magic. He flips his head around, facing Bertha with such intensity I flinch. "What was she doing here?"

"Signing up for Adder’s top photo contest."

"Who was the guy? Do you know him?"

Bertha’s eyes flicker to the front, a joyful glint playing in them. My gut churns when I turn in the direction she’s facing, and for a good reason because coming in through those doors is Phineas, playing with his car keys around his index finger.

Fuck.

"There he is."

All eyes turn to the door and Kayla cuts her high-pitched squee with a slap to her mouth. "He’s sooo hot!"

The look on Jerald’s face, when he notices who we’re talking about, is, well, eyes lowered to a deadly glare, mouth set into a line, and an ice-cold expression set everywhere as he freezes.

Double fuck!

"It could have been anyone but him."

★★★★★