“If you want to keep working for me,” he continued, his tone sharp, “try being honest. I don’t care if you hate me, as long as you do your job.”
He straightened and began walking past me toward his massive bathroom, leaving me standing there speechless.
“And for the record,” he added over his shoulder, “I don’t like you either.”
I stared after him, mouth agape.
What did he mean he didn’t like me? How dare he?
Everyone knew I was the most trusted personal assistant in his life. The Olivia Hayes, indispensable to the great Julian Grey.
And yet here he was, casually stating he didn’t like me at all. The audacity!
Still fuming, I turned to the task at hand: cleaning up after myself. I vacuumed the carpet where I’d slept no less than eight times. Then, I headed into his room to tidy up.
By the time Julian emerged from his absurdly luxurious bathroom, I had his room spotless. The windows gleamed, the table was perfectly polished, and the bed looked like it belonged in a five-star hotel.
It didn’t matter if Julian Grey didn’t like me. What mattered was that he needed me.
Julian’s gaze swept the room, his face impassive. But I could tell by the slight relaxation of his brow that he was pleased with my work.
“Why are you still here?” he asked.
Taking a deep breath, I replied carefully, “Mr. Grey, I took care of you all night. I’m not feeling great today. May I take a day to rest at home?”
Julian nodded. “Sure. Take a sick day. But you’ll get a pay cut for it.”
My hands curled into fists as I fought the urge to throttle him.
Screw you, Julian Grey!
That day, Julian Grey seemed to dislike me even more than usual. He bossed me around mercilessly.
“The data in this report for the meeting needs to be detailed and accurate,” he demanded.
So, I spent hours adding more data to the report. Then, he reviewed it and snapped, “This is too long. I wanted something concise.”
I couldn’t help but wonder if Julian had learned English from a math teacher. Did he not realize that “detailed” and “concise” were practically opposites?
I would’ve loved to see him produce a detailed yet concise report himself.
After editing and re-editing the report multiple times, Julian finally nodded, pointed to my very first draft, and said, “Copy this. It’s not perfect, but it’ll do.”
I wanted to scream.
By the time I dragged myself home, it was nearly midnight.