Dark Revenge Of A Jilted Bride: Till Life Do Us Part!-Chapter 17: First Day III

A knock disrupted Gianna’s work.

She was standing before the board in her office, adding sketches to an already-sketched work—not entirely completed though—her head cocked contemplatively to the side, wondering if she was producing well the image that had flashed through her mind when she thought of new designs and old.

The disruptive knock wasn’t the first, but the fourth, and when it did come, she hissed softly, not pleased with the unwanted shakings it did to the image in her mind.

She turned to the door, glaring at it hard, wondering who it could be. It couldn’t be Grace, because she had told the latter that she would be engaged in intense work for four hours.

Or was there an emergency?

Her eyes caught the time on the clock then and she cussed beneath her breath, darting away from the board as if it was a leper, dropping her pencils on the table.

She should have been with the deputy director forty minutes ago!

Four hours had passed an hour ago. Why hadn’t Grace tapped in and informed her? Wasn’t she with her schedule?

"Come in." she said when the knock came for the fifth time, as she ruffled her curly hair into place, tapping gently on her face with a powder dab. She shouldn’t go to meet a fellow so high up the ladder looking deteriorated.

But who came in wasn’t her secretary.

It was Mason, a frowning Mason. A frowning director.

What was he doing in her office?

For a second, Gianna let the old fear creep in, cold fingers dragging at her spine, but she banished it just as immediately. She dabbed her face until she was satisfied, before closing the plastic packet and keeping it on the table.

"Good afternoon, Director Mason."

Mason stood just away from her shut door, hands in his pockets. "Gianna, I see you have settled in nicely."

Gianna nodded once. "Yes, thank you. The company has been welcoming."

"Good to hear that."

He didn’t move from the door. He hadn’t stopped frowning. 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

"Gianna..." he paused, as if not sure how to put his words in a good train.

This only made Gianna curious, a little uncomfortable. Had something happened? Did they want to take away the benefits?

But how could they, when she already signed the contract—an hour before immersing herself in deep work—when she already test-drove the beautiful, efficient car they had given her?

"Talk to me, Mason." she finally said when Mason wouldn’t talk, clasping her hands on the table.

His speechlessness, as much as it worried her, surprised her. She had thought him too confident, smug even, but seeing him struggling with words, she wasn’t even sure what to think.

Mason sighed, and immediately his demeanor snapped into place, even the frown dissipated to reveal the ever-present smirk on his lips.

Gianna didn’t know when an exhale of relief left her lips.

"Nothing much. My father isn’t happy with you."

Gianna’s breath caught. Already? It’s just her first day at work!

"Didn’t you have an appointment with the deputy director? Why did you snub it?" he continued, when she remained silent.

Gianna conceded. After all, she was wrong. "I am sorry, Mason. I was busy... told my secretary to let me know when the time was right. She has my schedule."

Mason looked around the office, and so his eyes caught the sheets of paper on the board. He immediately walked toward it, to satisfy his curiosity.

The designs he saw lifted his mood, and he believed his father would let go of his anger when they saw these designs.

"I see... your secretary mentioned though that she had told you."

Gianna smarted, her jaw tightening. "She said what?"

Mason only turned his head to appraise her features, and seeing the barely-there anger, he knew that Grace was foolishly playing with her job to satisfy Esme.

He wouldn’t call the latter to order though—Gianna could handle her troubles, and he loved drama. His life had been devoid of entertaining ones for a while now.

"Seeing your face, she didn’t?"

He heard Gianna release a soft curse, and smiled. The drama was cooking.

He smiled wider, eyes now back on the designs, when she said: "I think I need a new secretary. Mine is currently not graced enough."

"You will have to take it up with my father when you go meet him... also apologize to the deputy director when you meet her... I think a notion has been formed about you, one that is gaining rounds around the company already."

A pause.

"You might be a genius in this field, Gianna, but it wouldn’t do you good to have all the employees hating on you."

"Of course, Director Mason. Of course. I am aware of that."

A slight pause. "Thanks for letting me know."

As Gianna got up, her face was back to a blank slate. "I will follow you to your father’s office?"

Mason shook his head. "No need. He is back in the board room. The deputy had reported you... they are contemplating the matter..."

He finally turned to her. "We are a family here, Gianna. When one of us, especially a leader, is hurt or disrespected..."

"I know. I apologize again." Gianna cut in, feeling guilty enough.

She should have set a reminder on her phone instead of depending on a secretary whom she had foolishly thought had been cowed enough by her earlier phrase ’root out’.

"I think you should take your designs... it will help with your appeal."

Gianna nodded, beelined to the board, packed up the skeletons of designs she had worked on this morning, not even buzzed at the close proximity she shared with Mason as she picked off the designs.

Mason was surprised, however, at the flush of heat that went up his arm as she grazed him, as her breath fanned his face when she stretched across him to pick a design at the far end to his right.

For a second, he was tempted to place a hand on her waist, yet he was wise enough to know—having seen and observed a lot over the years—that this woman wasn’t interested in being handled like an attractive object, nor did she appreciate being sweet-talked unnecessarily.

He had fumbled with that earlier when he stepped into the office, not wanting to scare her away with harsh words, but when she said placidly ’talk to me, Mason’, he had known she wasn’t a cub that needed pampering or sweet talk.

No, she was a lioness, and expected to be treated as one.

And oh, was he beginning to have plans for that.