"You're late, Miss Addison," Charlie sings as he provides me with clearance to the building after Keegan drops me off at work.

All I can manage Charlie's way is a dirty glance since I'm holding a half-eaten cream cheese bagel between my teeth, a burnt cup of coffee in one hand and my coat and portfolio case in the other. I rush toward the elevators and I feel my eyes straining against their sockets in a gaping look of panic when I realize that the doors to the last available elevator are closing shut. I spit my bagel out onto the glistening, marbled floor and shout for the man inside to hold it for me.

"No," he replies nonchalantly without the slightest hint of remorse. He wraps his hand around his wrist in front of him showcasing his dark, polished watch – a true executive douchebag stance.

"Asshole!" I bellow just before the doors close in my face. I can feel other people staring, but all I notice is my pathetic reflection in the pristine doors of the elevator after they've closed.

I lift my bagel off of the floor and toss it into the trash and furiously begin pressing the button on another set of elevators until one finally pinges and opens up.

"Good morning, Ms. Kepner."

"Hi, hello, Mr. Warfield," I step into the elevator as he steps out.

"Running late?"

"I'm afraid I am. Are you leaving?" I ask my former boss. My eyes momentarily land on the cigar tugged into the small pocket of his suit.

"Yes. I'm afraid the day has come. I'm sneaking out of here, Addison. Please refrain from telling anyone. The last thing I need is any pity about the fact that I'm being forced to withdraw from my position." He peers around for a moment, dark eyes seemingly paranoid, as if someone might be listening before he seems to gather himself.

"I'm confident about my grandson's ability to take care of things from here on out, but I will not stand by him and pretend to be content about the fact that he's taking over my legacy," he expresses somberly as he holds the elevator open with the morning newspaper tucked beneath his other arm.

I frown and I can't help but step forward and wrap my arms around him. He'd been an exceptional boss but more than anything, he'd always been incredibly kind despite the fact that he practically spewed money out of his ears. I'd been his shadow at work for the last four years after having worked my way up from clerical and I was going to miss him dearly.

"Good luck, Mr. Warfield. It was a pleasure working for you," I utter over his shoulder before stepping back into the elevator.

"With me, Addison. You worked with me, dear," he corrects which kindles a smile on my face.

"You let me know if you ever need a letter of recommendation or assistance of any sort; just anything, anything at all. I'll be happy to oblige. You are an exceptional young lady."

I nod modestly as he looks at me as if attempting to ingrain the image of my face into his brain.

"Oh, one more thing, Addison," he says before relinquishing his hold on the elevator door. "Go easy on my grandson. He will feel the need to prove himself but I assure you he's not as bad as he seems."

"Of course, Mr. Warfield."

He smiles reassuringly and salutes me goodbye. For the first time since I've known him, he walks away with a slump on his stout shoulders.

I lower my gaze only to see that I have stained my blouse with cream cheese and I sigh throwing my head back against the metal wall of the elevator after pressing the button to my floor. As always, it takes an eternity to arrive to work since the building itself is just over sixty stories high, the mecca of corporate buildings in Vancouver.

I grow a root or two but eventually the elevator stops and the doors open. I was running ten minutes late and I briskly wave hello to Stacey at reception but she simply rolls her wide-set eyes at me as I practically run past her.

I feel my heart constrict beneath my chest when I see everyone gathered inside the glass walls of the conference room. I carelessly toss my belongings on my desk and stealthily attempt to make my way into the room.

"Can I help you?"

I wince before shrinking against the door as I close it shut. I spin around to meet the dark, cobalt eyes of the man that was my new boss and I feel my tongue wither in my mouth and the blood drain from my face when I realize that it is the same man who had refused to hold the elevator for me in the lobby just moments ago.

"I uhh...Addison Kepner," I prattle despite the fact that he doesn't ask for my name.

He glares at me silently before clenching his sharp, angled jaw and I can feel my face growing hotter and hotter by the second. I begin to feel sweat dripping down the sides of my blouse and I mentally tell myself to keep it together.

"Please step out, Ms. Kepner. I'll deal with you later."

"But I – "

"Now," he roars.

"Yes, Mr. Warfield."

I step out and only then do I notice everyone's eyes on me. I shamefully make my way back to my desk and dig my face into my hands before slamming my forehead against my desk feeling like an imbecile.

"Addison, what's wrong?"

I look up to see Roy just arriving at his desk as well.

"Fuck he pulled everyone into the meeting already? I'm screwed," he says adjusting his tie before draping his messenger bag over the metal, back support of his chair.

"We're both screwed. I tried to join in but he kicked me out. He actually kicked me out. He's going to fire me, I know it."

Roy attempts to assure me that that isn't going to happen as he tries to get a good look into the conference room by stretching his neck out as far as it can go from his desk.

"Well bend me over and fuck me sideways. Has there ever been such a man?" he asks before biting down on the cap of his pen looking like he had just ejaculated in his overly tight trousers.

"I called him an asshole in the elevator," I reveal.

Roy's amber eyes grow wide and he brings his hand to his chest in astonishment. "You didn't..."

I pout like a child on the brink of throwing a tearful tantrum at my desk. "I didn't know who he was. I don't understand why Mr. Warfield never bothered to introduce him before. It's bullshit! This is a global, billion dollar company. It is not how things are supposed to go and now I'm getting fired. Fuck what am I going to do?"

"Yeah honey, I think you are," Roy finally admits spinning his chair around to face his computer. "It's a shame. I really liked working for you."

I throw a pen at him and he lets out a high-pitched chuckle.

"Shut up. Where else am I going to find a job in which the executive assistant has an executive assistant?"

"You're not," Roy replies typing away on his computer. He doesn't look the least bit worried about the fact that we are missing the meeting, the meeting that I had personally spent two weeks planning only it had been originally scheduled for later on in the afternoon as per Mr. Warfield's request; older, sensible Warfield.

Roy and I chat over coffee at our desks and after two hours, I grow privy to the very real possibility of getting fired. I anxiously wait for the meeting to conclude, but it cuts well into everyone's lunch hour.

I lift my phone when a text comes in flashing a downright awful photo of Keegan on the screen.

"Who is that?" Roy asks curiously.

"It's just Keegan letting me know that he paid our electric."

"How is Keegan?"

I furrow my brows in confusion. "Why do you care?"

"Have you fucked him yet?" he asks casually as he files down his nails with a glass nail filer.

"Roy please do not go there. I have to hear it from everyone else and now you're going to subject me to it as well? We only tolerate each other because he was Andrew's best friend. Two people can in fact just be friends. Why does everything have to be about sex?"

"Because everything is, Addison. You two are some of the most attractive people I know. Fuck – you two are most attractive people I know," he says as if personally realizing it for the first time.

"The fact that you live together but are not together is like going against nature. Besides, when was the last time you got laid? Is your vagina even in proper working order anymore? It's probably closed shut isn't it? You've heard the expression sweetheart, use it lose it."

"Please don't talk about my vagina...you may want to consider opening an anatomy book once in a while. I get laid plenty, thank you," I snap. "Keegan...he...he's not my type," I reply fumbling around with some papers atop my desk.

"Tall, handsome with piercing teal eyes and textbook muscle tone isn't you're type? That's everyone's type," he lectures condescendingly.

"Andrew would have a heart attack if he was still alive and he learned that I was seeing Keegan. Besides, he's stupid." I shoot back instead.

"Oh, honey you keep telling yourself that."

He sighs and spins his chair around to face his desk. I lean back in my own my chair and peer into the conference room for the hundredth time to finally see everyone disbanding. I immediately rise from my seat and attempt to smooth out my outfit when I spot Mr. Warfield exiting the room and walking in my direction as he fastens the button on his gray, fitted coat. An indiscernible expression washes over his face when he looks at me – baffling me, and my eyes automatically skim his broad shoulders before I find myself admiring the way his hair is combed away from his forehead in a perfect, matted, modern coif.

"You," he says pointing at me. "My office, now," he demands walking past me.

I make the short, sharp turn into his office and close the doors behind me attempting to hide the fact that I am shaking which is incredibly out of character for me. He unfastens his coat with one hand before rounding his desk in order to take a seat and waves his fingers at me, instructing me to step forward.

"Have a seat."

I scurry over and gracefully attempt to take a seat across from him. I cross my legs and study his face taking notice of the fact that he is incredibly young and incredibly attractive as he stares at me with an intensity in his hooded, blue eyes that makes my blood pressure spike. He doesn't look a day over thirty and I promptly begin questioning his grandfather's ability to accurately assess his grandson's capability to run the company at such a young age. In my short experience, chief executive officers were older, overweight from excessive self-indulgence and unreasonably bad-tempered; and al though Mason is neither old or heavy, it isn't difficult to decipher that he is a complete asshole.

"I take my coffee black, sprinkle of cinnamon," he begins. "You will report to my office promptly at ten a.m. every morning with said coffee in hand and will lay out the day's itinerary on my desk. I expect you to plan, schedule and attend each and every meeting, conference, presentation and social gathering in regards to this company and you will be painstakingly diligent in your presentation and note taking. You will audio record all assemblages and provide me with a transcript of the recordings within twenty-four hours and I expect each transcript to be properly labeled, organized and filed into its corresponding depository."

"Of course, Mr. Warfield," I quickly respond. Those were all things that I was accustomed to doing under the older Mr. Warfield but his grandson must be deluded to think I'll be making his coffee.

"Mason," he replies pulling me from my thoughts before giving me a onceover. I immediately grow hyperaware of the state of my clothing when a disapproving glare befalls his chiseled face.

"If this is your idea of proper business attire, Ms. Kepner you might want to consider investing in a new wardrobe. You will need to be properly prim and pressed if you are to be seen in public with me."

My mouth drops open despite being fully mindful of the fact that I look like shit.

"Noted, Mr. Warfield."

"Mason," he repeats.

"Is that all, Mr. Warfield?" I ask rising from my chair. "I have a lot of work to do."

He flashes me a smile that doesn't quite reach his dark, cobalt eyes as he leans over his desk and laces his fingers together looking downright evil.

"That's humorous considering the fact that you didn't seem to have anything to occupy yourself with for four hours while the meeting transpired. You were blathering away with Mr. Vela." He cocks his head to one side and peers at me, his eyes cold and deprecating.

"Furthermore, Ms. Kepner, I do not appreciate you interrupting my meeting, shouting obscenities in my building or expelling food straight from your mouth onto my floors. If an episode such as the one that took place this morning arises again I will make sure that no one in Vancouver ever even entertains the idea of offering you employment again. Is that understood?"

Despite being unaccustomed to being spoken to in such a way, I nod. And I find myself thinking that perhaps my my constant, acrimonious demeanor has finally caught up with me in the form of Mason Warfield.

"Excellent. Now please, tell me about yourself," he instructs leaning back against his chair before lacing his hands together.

His comportment has shifted and I tilt my head to the side and blink repeatedly wondering what the fuck his damage is until he raises his eyebrows at me urging me to begin. Dick.

"Well I'm currently enrolled in the microbiology and immunology program at UBC. At twenty-one, I'm the youngest assistant your grandfather ever – "

"Thank you that is all. You may go. Please shut the doors on your way out and fetch me my coffee."

I press my lips together and nod before rising from my chair. I begin walking myself out before spinning around to face him again.

"Actually, with all due respect, Mr. Warfield there are plenty of people in this office who will jump at the opportunity of fetching you a cup of coffee, people that are much more equipped than I am."

Mason raises a thick, dark brow before tossing his pen across his desk. "Do we not have an abundance of intricate coffee machines? Should I send out for more or are you simply refusing to bring me a cup of coffee, Ms. Kepner?" he challenges.

"No sir, I just – "

"Good. Again, please shut the doors on your way out."

I scoff and turn on my heel.

"Oh and Ms. Kepner?"

I stop and take a breath before plastering a fake smile across my face and turning to face him again. "Yes, Mr. Warfield?"

"It's easier to do your job right than to have to explain why you didn't," he says with a absurdly attractive smirk on his face.

I snigger before crossing my arms. "Did you come up with that on your own or is it something you snatched straight out of the latest issue of Forbe's magazine?"

The words spill out of my mouth and I flinch at my own outburst. I am amazed when Mason simply curls his thin, pink lips into a smile and turns his attention to his computer. My eyes remain on his lips despite being witness to what is arguably the best view of the Vancouver skyline in the background. His mouth is oddly distracting.

"Have a good day Ms. Kepner."

I flee his office and shut the doors behind me. Roy immediately pulls me over to his desk and asks me if I've been fired.

"No he just...I don't know what that was. I'll tell you what though; you have officially earned the vital task of preparing his coffee. He takes it black with a little cinnamon."

"You got it, boss. Anything else?"

"Quickly before he has both our heads."

He grimaces and immediately disappears out of sight.

Stacey makes her way over and begins bombarding me with questions as I attempt to look over Mason's schedule for the following week. It is certainly a lot more frantic than his grandfather's and I quickly realize that I am going to have my work cut out for me and so I take a deep breath and mentally bid adieu to my social life.

"I'm going to get him to buy me dinner," Stacey boasts while holding up a compact mirror and applying another coat of hot pink lipgloss. This time around, it is me who is rolling her eyes as far into the back of her head as they can go.

"Good luck with that. The man is an conundrum and if I didn't know any better, I'd say he was made out of marble."

"You're just jealous because there's no way he would ever set his eyes on someone like you."

"Seething," I reply sarcastically as I click away at my mouse taking in all of the information on my computer screen.

Roy returns with Mason's coffee and I dial Mr. Warfield to let him know that it is ready. He instructs me to go ahead and deliver it before abruptly hanging up on me.

"My god even his voice is stimulating," Stacey mutters and I tell her to get a grip on herself and get back to work.

I instruct Roy to take the coffee in and he smiles excitedly, looking as if he is about to give the performance of his life before making his way into Mason's office with a spring in his step.

"Ms. Kepner!"

I quickly rise from my desk and make my way back into his office while Stacey speedily makes her way back to reception.

"Yes, Mr. Warfield?"

"Did I or did I not instruct you to bring me my coffee?"

"You did, sir but Roy is in charge of assisting me and since I was looking over your schedule for the following week I thought – "

He sighs exasperatedly and raises his palm in order to shut me up and I quickly stop talking despite the fact that I can feel my blood simmering in my veins.

"Let me make one thing clear. Things are going to be different from here on out. This company has been mismanaged for years and it must be restructured to keep up with its ever-growing demand. Of course, you two didn't deem it important to grace us with your presence on time today so you missed out on all of the shiny, new and exciting changes that will be taking effect. So at the very least I expect you to properly and efficiently follow orders."

"Yes, Mr. Warfield," Roy and I utter in unison.

"On Monday I expect you in my office at 10 a.m. sharp with my coffee, Ms. Kepner. I do not want to have to have this discussion with you again. Now get out, the both of you."

Roy and I walk out and it becomes evident that he was holding this breath in there when we walk out and he exhales sharply. He turns to look at me with a freaked expression on his face and I shake my head in anger as I plop myself back down on my chair.

"Is it strange that I got a little aroused in there? That is not a man. That is a god and I think we may be working for the next business tycoon."

"He's a power-hungry prick," I let out. "He's outrageous, not to mention completely delusional if he thinks that I'm going to take the time out of my schedule to bring him fucking coffee. I don't do coffee."

Roy chews on his lip and leans against his desk. "So what you're just going to let him fire you over a damn cup of coffee? It literally only takes three minutes to brew. I should be in charge of coffee, I'm good at coffee."

I dig the heels of my palms into my eye sockets before getting back to work. "Fuck his coffee."

☓

Hey guys, 

Just a quick note: Before reading any further, please take into consideration that this book is going to be incredibly messy. This is a first draft, so it's in its purest, rawest form, just like all my other books. This is not something that I would feel comfortable submitting to a publishing company for consideration as is, so please keep that in mind. 

Someone mentioned that they feel like the book is too cluttered, and that Addie never talks about how she feels. That's the problems with love triangles, they're messy. People go back and forth and people get hurt. Addison doesn't like to express herself. She keeps everything locked in, and you'll see that throughout the text, but I don't think that you guys won't be able to figure out how she feels. 

Everyone is entitled to their opinion. You guys are more than welcome to share it with me if you decide to continue reading. I know the novel is all over the place, but I think that it's still worth a read. 

<3