Chapter 2 - His Secret Obsession

Eros Ramazzotti

2 years later ..

So it's been 2 years since Athena has been working for me. He dosen't know if he should call himself crazy for the way he acts around her sometimes. Strangely enough he has no idea why his eyes are always pinned on her when she's so poorly and badly dressed, she's definitely not like the models he date or even plays around with, and even now he can't believe how fucking irritated he is right now.

For the past 2 years he found himself secretly drooling after her and he just can't find the reason why! She's freaking married although sometimes he wishes she wasn't..

He has definitely lost count of how his embarrassed himself in front of her and fucking flirted with her.

Fury slams into my head. The guy at the immigration counter continues to look her up and down. Then the smarmy bastard lifts his eyebrow in a completely inappropriate way. My hand clenches the handle of my briefcase to stop myself from going over to him, knocking his head off, and shoving it up his ass

Jesus. Christ!

Where the hell did that come from?

What's she turned him into??

Athena Ramirez is not my girlfriend. She’s my damn PA! She works under me, scratch that, for me. Plus, she’s married. I never mix business with pleasure. And she is the last person to turn my head. I’m pretty certain that I’ve never met a woman who is more determined to look like someone’s grandmother. Terrible nerdy glasses, not a lick of makeup, severe bun, dowdy clothes. She’s got it all.

Working with Athena Ramirez unattractive self for 2 good damn years is a whole new freaking level of change. He has never had just one secretary for that long, but here she is, With him on a business trip in Shanghai china.

Although, to be honest, her utter lack of sex appeal was one of the reasons I hired her. I make it a point not to work with attractive women. I didn’t always have that line in the sand, but I’m thirty-four now, and I’ve bedded enough women to know the score

Basically, I’m sex on a stick.

That’s not bragging or conceit. It’s just the way things are. I see the looks I get from women when I walk by. Their eyes widen, their lips part, and they focus on me like nothing else in the world exists. Throw in the fact I’m filthy rich into the equation and suddenly, I’m irresistible. That’s fine outside of the office, but in an office environment, it’s a damn nightmare.

I want to keep things strictly professional. Partly, because I don’t need that kind of complication, but mostly, I just don’t want to be the guy who bangs his secretary. I find the whole idea sleazy and vulgar. It’s not who I am.

Hiring married, dowdy women like Athena Ramirez makes it easy to stick to my rule. Even if they are the type to cheat on the side, they understand I’m not in their league. It’s great for me too; I’ll never be distracted or tempted. Sure, some men might find her sexy. Notice the reaction of the fool at the counter, but not me. My type runs to models, ‘it’ girls, or just straight up bimbos. At least, this is how it’s supposed to work in theory. And how it has worked for the last two months she’s been with me.

Peanuts for brains returns her passport and she hurries to join me. My theory has worked for the last two months and there is no reason it should not work for the foreseeable future. Deliberately, I glower at her.

“Sorry, it took so long,” she says meekly, tucking her passport into her purse.

“Try to keep up, Mrs. Ramirez.” Turning on my heel, I start striding away. I can hear her sensible librarian shoes clacking on the polished floor as she jogs alongside. I know I’m being an ass, but I’m still reeling from the crazy moment in my head when I got all possessive over her.

My nostrils flare suddenly. “What’s that smell?”

She blushes. “One of the stewardesses spilled some sardines on me.”

Now, I can’t help staring at the color seeping up her neck and into her cheeks. I frown with irritation. I’m losing it. What’s wrong with me? Sure, I’ve been working flat out all week and I was exhausted before the nineteen-hour flight from New York, but this just isn’t me. I don’t lust after my secretaries. Especially, plain Janes like her.

I glance at her brown turtle-neck top. “We’re in Shanghai. Why are you dressed as if we are on a trip to Alaska?”

“Uh…huh, I thought it might be cold in the hotel,” she mutters, her eyes sliding away.

I shake my head and carry on walking towards baggage claim shaking my head.

The airport is ultra-modern and clean, but it’s packed with travelers, clogging up the walkways in the terminal. Although, the crowd parts easily in front of me. I tower over most of the people here. They move out of my way like I’m going to knock them over if they don’t. It’s not far from the truth. I feel impatient and restless. I put it down to the fact that I’ve got a lot riding on this trip.

“Did you confirm our reservations for this evening?”

“Yes. Table for six 8.00 p.m.”

ll be our first step toward breaking into the Asian markets. An entir

rse, Mr

on tom

starts at eight, but the two speakers you were interested in listening to, start at nine and eleven respectively. You have an hou

nch with Math

oked a table at a ver

ill be joinin

ou nee

u’ll have to ta

ge the res


our presentation

ht the slid

in my s

k. The airport is fully conditioned and I am a

ught you might want some free time

y taking it easy and walking around like a goddamn tourist. We’re here to work. See about scheduling something fo

st tho

keep my life running smoothly, so I can think. Speaki

ike under all the layers of clothes she wears. Today, she is wearing a pant suit. It’s a nice suit. Very professional. The probl

a grey suit that was so meritless and ugly I nearly said something,

ls being negotiated that need my input. I give the senior vice president his instructio

r travelling in coach with screaming babies all around her and the air stewardess spilling fish sauce on her. I consider saying something nice, but I bite t

ms into me. It’s like being in a sauna. “W

, concerned. “He

nyone with a placard

s for that now

ey use,” I s

er pocket. “Let me call and

I sent the correct instructions and the flight was neither delayed nor early.” She pauses. “How long will it take you to organize another car?” She listens then frowns. “No, we can’t wait here for an hour. I’ll find alternative arrangements. For the record, I’ll be exp

t stand by and let someone treat her like shit. She doe

she says, holding the phone

not you I’m referring to. It’s the asshole on the oth

sn’t want to, but she knows better than to disobey

it to

ng, he’s going ape-shit. His accent is thick, b

ere I cut him off. “

ked he stops

r the line. If you were here in person, I would teach you a lesson in manners. And if I didn’t have better th


you could fu

moment, before making the mistake of o

tes that your car service is blacklisted. If I were a betting man, I’d say the majority of your clients are businessm

ring at me

back to her. “T

oss her face. “Could be,

all your friends

ead in confusio

nes you deal with on a daily basis. Tell them never to use this car service again.

I will. And

it, Mrs.

you,” s

at way. Not while I’m around. Now go find us an