Page 1 of Shy Girls write it Better
Cassie
Cassie felt like a James Bond Girl, minus the grace and the fake boobs, as her fingers flew on the keyboard, typing the super-secret words no one could ever see.
Hearing steps behind her, she minimized the document she was working on, opening up a spreadsheet as quickly as she could – given the antediluvian system she was working with, that could take a while.Thankfully, the incriminating window consented to disappear in time.It just wouldn’t do for one of her colleagues to glance over her shoulder and read the wordcock.
It wasn’t her fault – not really.If her boss sent anything even remotely challenging her way, she wouldn’t feel bored to tears by eleven every morning.At the start of her employment at Harris Toys, she’d done her very best, always eagerly asking for more projects, but each time, Michelle Davis, her direct superior, just sent her on a coffee run or an equally boring task.There was nothing wrong with being treated like a secretary; when you were one.
Cassie was an accountant with a double major in business; after working her way through college and amassing more experience than your average thirty-year-old, she’d received a good dozen job offers right out of school.
She’d accepted Harris Toys’ offer because, come on, it was Harris Toys.Not only did the company specialize in really cool children’s toys, half of which were crafted for the use of kids with special needs, but it also generously gave to just about any cause that seemed worthy these days.Thatwas the kind of company you could boast about at a high school reunion.But not when you were a glorified secretary-occasionally-doing-payroll.
As it became clear that Michelle refused to let her do her job, Cassie resorted to two equally underhanded behaviors.Firstly, she’d started to schedule her occasional trip to her boss’s desk when Michelle’s own superior was within ear shot, to make it clear that she wasn’t the slacker Michelle was trying to show she was.
She was all smiles as she said things such as, “Is there anything I can do for you, Michelle?I’m done with the last expense report.”
Because Cassie was shy – terminally so – people mistakenly believed they could walk all over her.Not happening.
Her second coping mechanism, when she had nothing else to do, consisted of plugging in her USB stick, opening up her last document, and writing the naughty books she’d never had the time to focus on until now.
After adhering to the routine for over seven months, she had three books under her belt and the hearing of your average German Shepherd, as catching approaching steps had become her biggest challenge in her cubicle.
Lifting her head to see who the newcomer could possibly be, she dropped it right back to her keyboard quicker than usual, hunching her back to disappear behind her screen.
Patrick Johnson, the CFO, Michelle’s boss, came down at least twice a week, so she’d gotten as used to him as she could – although Cassie would never feel comfortable with a man like him: tall, broad, with a killer smile and too much charisma.She preferred them to stay where they belonged: in fictitious romance.
Still, she could deal with Trick.He was one of the nice ones; he remembered her name and asked how she was until she felt comfortable enough to return the greeting.
The problem was that Trick hadn’t come alone today.Oh, no.He’d brought his best friend, the founder and CEO of Harris Toys, Carter Harris.
Given the fact that she was working for him, Cassie had seen him a few times; on her first day, for one, and maybe once or twice in the elevator.Okay, seven times.Yes, she’d been close to hyperventilating at each damn occasion.
Trick was an upgrade on the All American guy, light brown hair, with amber eyes and a ready smile, while Carter was his exact opposite.Dark wavy hair he styled like Superman and cold grey eyes always penetrating whatever they landed on.Everyone in the room held their breaths and not only because he was signing the paychecks.Well, not literally; Cassie was the one who signed them.
He was the kind of person who effortlessly dominated whatever space he entered.
She risked a peek up from her screen and regretted it immediately: he’d just been looking in her corner – her movement brought his attention to her.Shit.
That’s when, in her mind, she confidently got up, walked straight up to him and grabbed his jacket, kissing him deeply right then and there like they were alone in the world.If it had been one of her books, her protagonist would have done just that.In reality, though, she kept her ass firmly planted on her chair, and blushed like there was no tomorrow.
To her surprise, the corner of Carter Harris’ mouth curled up, although he soon turned to look at everyone else in the room.
“Morning,” his deep voice greeted them.“Don’t mind us – maintenance is redoing the carpet in the three upper floors; we’ll just borrow some of your space for a couple of days.”
Yeah, sure.No worries.Great news.
She was dead.Her nerves would not survive “a couple of days” of seeing Carter Fucking Harris for eight hours straight.With a bit of luck, he’d choose the office behind her back, and she could always do without using the coffee machine nestled against it; that meant she’d only spot him when he came in and left…
Her hopes were dashed as the man carelessly waltzed in the large office right in front of her; as the walls were entirely made of glass, he might as well have been in the same room.
Great.Better get a heart surgeon on speed-dial.
He walked in and made himself at home, placing his cool MacBook on his desk as he talked with Trick, who nodded a lot, without lifting his head from his phone.
Cassie just observed them, hypnotized; so when his gaze offhandedly landed on her, he caught her right in the middle of her ogling.
Perfect.The week was starting outbeautifully.She’d get fired for slacking on the jobanddie of a heart attack, all by Wednesday.
To her absolute shock, and terror, her boss’s boss’s boss – although she might have missed a boss or two in between – smiled directly at her, and winked, before returning to his computer.
