CHAPTER 3

Eva was as nervous as the word could describe. If there was anything beyond nervousness; anxious, antsy, panicked, fidgety, distressed, afraid, she was all of those things! You cannot mess this up, Eva. Miss Thompson led the way before her, running the drill about not being lousy and incompetent and how Mr. Morgan hated lousiness and all that. But her words mixed up with the ocean of thoughts swirling around Eva as she contemplated in her mind, over how wrong everything could go.

“Do you understand me?” Ms. Thompson had probably dropped some very important detail and she’d missed it all because of her anxiety. Get a hold of yourself, girl!

“Y… Yes ma’am,” Eva stuttered a reply, clearly uncertain. The other woman just managed a roll of her eyes and an exasperated sigh, silently praying to all supernatural beings alive that this one would not mess things up. She was showing all the wrong signs already.

“What’s that smell?” she asked, scrunching up her nose in disgust as she sniffed the air around the neat tray Eva steadied in her hands.

“Never mind,” she waved it off and pushed open the dark mahogany door with a bold CEO tag sitting above the doorpost.

They both walked into the room, catching the tail end of Mr. Morgan’s conversation over the phone. He stood with his back turned to them, looking out to the busy street below through the large glass walls.

Eva could hear her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to steady her grip on the tray and prayed desperately not to make a fool of herself.

He was soon done with his call and as he turned around, it was all Eva could do to keep her jaw from dropping to the ground from the sheer beauty of his face. He was tall with strong broad shoulders and well-defined muscles that rippled underneath his suit jacket. His piercing blue eyes were sheltered by gorgeously long lashes and seemed to be capable of searching the secret recesses of a man’s soul. Eva stood frozen and awestruck, barely able to shake off the imagination of running her fingers along his chiseled jawline and stroking his pretty lips.

“Ms. Donovan? Are you gonna stop staring like a moron and get about your duties?” Ms. Thompson’s voice shattered her daydreams and instantly drew her out of her little reverie.

He must think I’m an idiot. She hurried over to his desk and set the tray down. She poured out a generous quantity of the coffee from the jug into a porcelain mug. Something smelled wrong and she could tell from the looks on both Mr. Morgan’s and Ms. Thompson’s faces that they could smell it too. Please don’t let me screw this up…

She felt her hands shake terribly and watched in horror as some of the coffee spilled onto the desk, splashing a little bit of the liquid on her new boss, and making a mess all over the table.

Fuck. She couldn’t utter a word. Her senses were still frozen from shock.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“Fix this mess!” Ms. Thompson didn’t spare her a chance at an apology, her menacing glare boring deep holes in the back of Eva’s head as she spoke.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Morgan. I will make sure this is taken care of, I assure you,” Eva could hear her say as she ran out of the office.

She was back in no time with a mop stick in a bucket, and a pile of paper towels. She proceeded to help her boss wipe the liquid off his clothes before meeting stiff resistance in the form of a curtly outstretched arm. He took the towels from her and wiped his clothes, leaving her to deal with the rest of the mess.

Eva struggled to find her rhythm for the rest of the day. She’d barely been employed for half of a day and she was faced with the threat of losing the job. Mr. Morgan didn’t make things any easier for her as he barely spoke a word to her, expecting her to know what to do and giving her a disapproving look when she came up clueless. Other than that, he carried on with his seemingly endless meetings as though she didn’t exist.

When she couldn’t take any more of the silent treatment, she walked into the bathroom and locked herself in one of the cubicles. He’s not gonna miss me anyway.

She melted into a pool of tears. It was all too overwhelming for her and she wished she could just run away from it all. It’s either this or we hit the streets…

She shook her head to let the thoughts evaporate from her subconscious. There was no way she was returning to her old life of abuse. She rose from the toilet seat and flushed to make it look like she’d been busy inside. She splashed some cold water on her face and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked defeated and miserable and wished she’d come in with some lip gloss at least or mascara. She sighed and just as she was about to look away from the mirror, she noticed a shift in her features just as she had earlier in the day, momentary but long enough for her to catch a clear glimpse. It had looked like her reflection but with a different expression – one of pure rage.

She quickly exited the bathroom, nearly bumping into a janitor who cursed under his breath as he wondered whatever in the world was wrong with the rude, clumsy lady who’d just walked past him.

“Sort out the files on my desk, and please, learn how to make a decent coffee before tomorrow morning,” Mr. Morgan instructed her on his way out at the close of work.

He gave her one last sorry glance before moving into the elevator. Of course, he’d thought it was horrible. Could the day get any worse?

Eva wanted to let out a scream in frustration. Well, at least she’d survived a day and since he wanted her to learn how to ‘make a decent coffee’ it had to mean that she still had her job. Eva’s temples throbbed with a bad migraine that made her feel like a dozen million needles were trying to pierce their way through her skin. She desperately needed a drink to calm her nerves down.

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