Dream eater, p.1
Dream Eater, page 1
Dream Eater
Smashwords Edition
C.L. Walker
Copyright
Copyright 2022 C.L. Walker
All Rights Reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Cover design by Mayhem Cover Creations
Editing by J.H. Fleming
Chapter 1
Lily
During my life, I had been sure of many things, but I had never been sure of myself. Fated to a life of near invisibility, I was the girl perpetually in the background. Not to say there were not worse fates, of course. There were many things I was grateful for, and going unnoticed did have its perks.
However, being in the spotlight was something I had never become accustomed to; it was a rare occurrence for that light to dare shine on me. Whenever it was my turn to present in front of the class, say how I felt, or approach a situation that required confidence, I floundered.
Of these occasions that rendered me speechless, motionless, and seemingly unintelligent, firsts were the worst of them. They were terrifying.
And here we go again… It never got easier, but I always did what was needed. To survive, I had to accept that the world couldn’t cater to everyone’s individual needs. I had no choice but to leap time and time again.
Once on the elevator, I pushed the number thirteen. I wasn’t superstitious, but I wasn’t too keen on working on the thirteenth floor, either. I was also afraid of heights, so if my office was by a window, it was going to be a problem.
A problem that would go unvoiced because I didn’t dare bite the hand that feeds.
The shiny, silver doors started to slide towards each other until a dainty hand stopped them. A short girl with square, mousy brown hair slipped inside, and when I smiled at her, her mouth fell into a flat line. She spun around quickly, punching a button for a different floor, and I stepped back towards a corner.
Before the doors could close, another person appeared, and then another, and another. Some six people later, I found myself flush with the wall, having received not a single smile in return. Ten seconds later, I sighed in relief when we reached my floor. I was hopeful that the people I was to work with would be nicer, or at the very least able to return a smile.
Straight ahead was a large, mahogany desk and two doors, one to the left and one to the right. Stepping towards the desk, I made eye contact with the gorgeous blonde who sat behind it. Approaching her nervously, I brushed a hand down my green blouse, which was tucked into high-waisted slacks.
“Hi,” I said warmly. I assumed at the very least the secretary I would be seeing every morning would respond kindly.
She arched a delicately curved eyebrow. “And you are?”
Scratch my previous, grossly inaccurate assumption. This building is a hive for assholes.
“I’m Lily.” I stuck my hand out to shake hers. “It’s my first day.” I hated the way I said it, like it was my first day of kindergarten when I was twenty-three years old. What a nerd.
When she didn’t take my hand, I pulled it back with a nervous laugh.
She gestured to my left. “His office is that way.”
“Thank you.” She wasn’t nice, but I couldn’t bring myself to stoop to her level. I’d be a doormat before I'd be a bully. Which I realized was a whole other problem of its own.
As I walked through the pristine, white room, my heels tapped against the marble floor. The sound grated on my nerves; I knew it to be a sound that drew attention I didn’t want.
With a deep breath, I stopped in front of a dark wooden door. A sign with the word “Intrigue,” written in glittery, black cursive, hung on it.
Laughter burst from my throat, prompted by a mixture of nervousness and humor. I was about to begin working for one of the industry's most popular name-brand lingerie companies in the world, and I was wearing white cotton granny panties. The irony was not lost on me.
It was crazy that I’d let Mara convince me to apply, and even crazier that she’d thought it wise to hire me as a secretary for a man rumored to be as sexy as he was cruel, two traits I didn’t respond well to. He was going to crush me if the rumors were true.
Wren Everly… He was the owner and CEO of Intrigue, my new place of work, located in downtown Seattle. A place I had lived my entire life, but not amongst the elites, so I was out of my element.
Just as I was working up the courage to go inside, the door opened and a hand reached out, grabbed my wrist, and tugged on it. “Oof.”
“Why the hell are you standing out here, Lily? I’ve been waiting for you so we could talk, but now there isn’t enough time. You have to get in his office right now or you’ll lose points with him already.” Mara pulled me inside a hallway that was sapphire colored and dimly lit.
“An empty hallway behind a door?” I asked, confused over the strange layout of Intrigue’s offices.
“He likes the quiet, so he had this side remodeled.”
“What? Is it just him back here?” She confirmed with a nod. “I’ll be alone with him?!”
“Yes.” She frowned, likely because I was being immature. But I was so nervous, I couldn’t help it. “Your office is behind that door straight ahead. Hurry up!” She pushed me towards another door with a sign on it, but this time it had his last name written in the same glittery cursive.
As we walked towards the door, lights came to life horizontally through the middle of the walls. “Wow. Who designed this place? It’s unreal.”
She sighed from behind me, and I could just imagine her mossy green, imp-like eyes rolling. “Wren did, down to every last detail. He likes pretty things.”
“Then why am I here?” I mumbled, running a hand through my light brown hair self-consciously.
“I’m not even going to address the stupidity of that question right now. Suffice it to say, he needs a good secretary he can trust, not some shiny thing to put on display.” She pointed to her watch and tapped it. “Now get your ass in there.”
Right. And I am that girl… No shine here.
She opened the door, shoved me through, and left.
Inside, there was a small desk in the corner with a computer on it, and everything a secretary might need. There were two doors. Behind one was a break room of sorts, so the other had to be his office.
After I knocked softly, I was given permission to enter.
When I pushed the door open, I was taken aback once more. His office sported deep red baroque wallpaper, black Chesterfield sofas, and a black desk. It was a dark and elegant space. But what really caught my eye was a painting of a woman that hung above a sofa pushed against the wall. For a moment, I couldn’t look away from her tear-stained cheeks and dark red lips, which reminded me of my own.
Touching my lips, which were free from color, I stepped towards the painting absentmindedly. Something strange stirred within my gut that left me nearly breathless.
Seconds later, realizing my error, I dragged my eyes from the painting to the intimidating figure before me. He stood in front of the glass wall overlooking the Puget Sound with his hands clasped behind his back.
“You’re late.” His voice was deep and smooth, his accent English. He had the kind of voice you felt across your skin and in the pit of your stomach. It was terrifying and alluring.
His black hair was shorter on the sides, longer on top, and gelled back. There wasn’t a single hair out of place. His black pinstripe suit looked expensive and was tailored to his form.
As I drank him in, I chewed on my lip nervously. It was all I could do as I waited for him to turn around.
When he finally did, his harsh, crystal blue eyes met mine with disinterest. They were wide and striking, and they looked familiar, but I couldn’t place them. Surely, I would have remembered him if I had met him before. Even if I had just passed him on the street, I would have remembered him. His face was not the kind you forgot.
Not only was he tall and commanding, and in possession of hauntingly beautiful eyes, but he also had a straight nose, a strong facial bone structure, and a generous mouth. The rumors were true: he had been carefully crafted with the heartbreak of women in mind.
Masculine perfection.
It was a good thing I already knew pretty things weren’t meant for me. I would quietly appreciate his appearance and never suffer from wanting what couldn’t be mine. Besides, I wasn’t so shallow as to want someone just for their looks anyway.
“I’m sorry for being late,” I said, realizing he was waiting on me. “I was quite taken with the decor of your offices, so I found myself walking slowly through them. It's somewhat of a dream in here.”
Unmoved by my confession, he sat down at his desk without replying. He began to shuffle through a file I surmised was mine. He kept looking down at it and back at me as if he were trying to reconcile the information with the hot mess in front of him.
“This is a place of work, not a place for dre
“Yes, sir.” I desperately tried to keep my composure despite feeling as if I were lost at sea, nauseated, and disoriented.
“As I am sure you’re aware, your primary duties will be screening phone calls, setting up meetings, keeping track of my schedule, coordinating with other departments, filing paperwork, sending out emails, etc. Also, you will attend all my meetings and take notes. They may occur with little warning and are occasionally out of state.”
He closed the file and laid his hand across the top of it. My eyes went immediately to the rings he wore, one on his pointer finger and the other on his pinky. They were both silver, and the one on his pointer finger had a small sapphire jewel on it.
His hand curled into a fist as he cleared his throat. “I trust that won’t be a problem.” His crisp, eloquent articulation made me hyper aware of my inferiority. He outclassed me in every regard. That much had become quickly apparent.
My clenched palms were beginning to sweat. I was already cracking from the pressure. It was my first high profile position, and I wasn’t sure I could handle it.
“Of course not,” I said, wiping my palms down my thighs.
After a short pause that felt like it stretched on for an eternity, he asked, “Am I correct in assuming that’s your best attire?”
Looking down at my feet, I cringed. There was something on the toe of my shoe that hadn’t been there when I left my apartment. It was my best outfit, and one of only a few that were appropriate for an office setting. I was hoping he wouldn’t notice until I got my first paycheck so I could purchase a few more.
But who was I kidding? Of course he’d noticed. Everything about him was shiny and new, so him noticing and questioning the bleak spot in the room wasn’t surprising.
“Yes.” I tried to stand taller and maintain some of my pride. But the problem was, I didn’t have much to begin with.
“I see.” He picked up his phone and pressed a single button before he said, “This won’t do. Take her shopping after lunch, please.”
He returned the phone and stepped over to me with his hands clasped behind his back once more. I had to tip my chin higher to meet his eyes once he stopped in front of me.
As he watched me, I rocked back on my heels, suddenly overwhelmed by the smell of sandalwood and jasmine. It, too, was familiar, but even stranger was its ability to nearly lull me into a mindless state. All I wanted was to take a step closer to him, if only to be further submerged in his enticing scent.
“Lily,” he said, pulling me out of the fog.
With wide eyes, I peered into his, which only added to my growing discomfort, since they were so unnerving. “I’m sorry.”
His mouth pulled slightly at the corner, a cocky half grin nearly making an appearance. But it was gone so quickly, I wondered if I’d misinterpreted the small movement.
“Mara will take you shopping,” he said. “You will acquire enough outfits to wear a different one every day for two weeks. I don’t mind if they are to your taste as long as they are appropriate for a secretary. Though, it should be obvious when you walk into a room that you work for one of the top companies in the fashion industry.”
My face pinched at the thought of drawing unwanted attention to myself by wearing impractical clothing.
He gazed down at me as if I were gum beneath his shoe. “The outside should hint at what’s underneath, peak curiosity, and entice even the most prudish. If everyone in the room isn’t curious about what you look like beneath your work attire, then you aren’t dressing right for this job.”
“That makes sense.” If he only knew what undergarments I was wearing, he would expire on the spot. “However, I don’t have the means to purchase that many outfits. I was planning on buying a few after I get my first paycheck, so if you could give me two weeks—”
“Consider it a sign-on bonus.”
“Sign-on bonus?”
“Did you not sign a two-year contract?” he asked, shifting his gaze to the wall.
“I did.”
“Then, as I said, consider the wardrobe a sign-on bonus and think nothing of it. You may leave.” He returned to his desk.
“But that many outfits will be expensive.”
Without looking at me, he asked, “Miss Stassen, do you know who I am?”
“Wren Everly…”
“You understand, then, that I am a man in possession of an exuberant fortune. So, an appropriate wardrobe for you…” His gaze measured me once more, making me desperately want to know what he was thinking. “…will go entirely unnoticed.”
“Okay.” My apologies, your greatness.
“You may take your leave.”
Resisting the urge to cry, I left and practically ran out of his suffocating office. There was a time and place for breaking down, and at work was not it.
On my desk, I found a manual, directory, and login information for the computer. I had a lot to go over, and I was determined to make quick work of it. I wanted to prove to myself that I could become a great secretary, one that Mr. Everly would also recognize and appreciate.
When I was nearly seated, the phone rang, and I lifted it off the hook with no small amount of anxiety. “Intrigue. This is Lily speaking. Yes. Well, no… But if you would just— I understand.” The dial tone blared in my ear before I could say goodbye. “Jeez.”
Head down, I walked back to his office and knocked.
“Enter.”
Once inside, I folded my hands in front of me and walked over to his desk.
“Back so soon?” he asked, leaning back in his chair.
“Elle called and she… Uhm…” I hesitated at the sight of his deep frown.
“She what?” His tone was impatient, whether with me or Elle, I didn’t know.
“She said, ‘Tell that arrogant, pigheaded, tiny-penis-having prick that I’m canceling my contract.’ Then she said something about not caring about being barred from working with any other companies for six months.”
“That’s excessive.”
When he stood up, I glanced at the crotch of his pants, wondering if there was any truth to Elle’s words.
“I don’t sleep with our models,” he said, as if he’d read my thoughts.
“Of course not.” If I weren’t terrified of him and so nervous I could barely keep irrational thoughts out of my head, I might have rolled my eyes at his claim.
He watched closely and I lingered awkwardly, which was an exhausted talent of mine that I longed to be rid of. I couldn’t figure out how to just be without feeling out of place and responsible for the silence.
“Make a call to Mara and tell her we’re a model short for our spring line.”
“Spring? There’s seasonal lingerie? Are the designs even any different from other seasons?”
“Yes, they are.” The look he gave me made me realize it was a silly question to ask. “However, this is in regard to the introduction of our first swimsuit line.”
“Oh. Right. Okay. I will go make that call.”
When I turned to leave, he said, “Wait.”
“Yes?” Oh, no! What?!
“Do you know anything about lingerie?”
Mara had told me to get familiar, but I guessed looking through a Victoria’s Secret catalog had done little to help my understanding. And, admittedly, I’d thought it was a simple thing. It was underwear. How hard could it be?
“I do. I love fancy lingerie, especially when it’s made by Intrigue. It’s beautiful and… Uhm… Comfortable!” Stop. Talking.
“Comfortable?” He pondered my words as he made his way to me. He circled me as I breathed out slowly and managed to remain still under his perusal. “We do aim for comfort, but given the type of lingerie we sell, we can only offer so much. Our customers know this.”
“Well, I’m easy to please.” Which was true, because I didn’t ask for much. But I was also lying out my ass. I had never worn lingerie from Intrigue.
If his words were any indication, I’d made a mistake calling his lingerie comfortable.
“Visible panty line, bunching, high waisted…” He stopped in front of me, his facial expression giving the impression that he wasn’t pleased again. “While I do understand why they would be preferred, granny panties are not something we sell.”
