About an hour had gone by since Timmy had been in William's office.
William had an investor meeting scheduled for 11 AM and that time was fast approaching. I contemplated giving him a call to inform him and I also contemplated knocking on his office door to let him know. Both of which seemed like scary, risky options because either method could result in him snapping at me for interrupting his meeting with Timmy.
My eyes stayed fixed on the time on my computer screen, with each passing second another level of anxiousness increasing in me. Immediately the time hit 10:56 AM, I stood to my feet.
Screw it.
Whatever approach he preferred me to follow; I guess I'd find out.
Which pretty much sums up how I've been learning how he liked things.
It wasn't like he communicated his preferences to me anyway.
As if on cue, his office door pulled open revealing himself and Timmy, speaking in quiet tones like they were just wrapping up their conversation.
Both their eyes landed on me immediately.
I squared my shoulders, "Sir, you have an investor meeting in less than 3 minutes."
"I'm aware." He said, making his way towards the door. "Shall we?"
It took a second for me to realize that he was speaking to both Timmy and me.
I wasted no time in picking my tablet up from the table and walking over to where they stood. William had already walked out of the office, ahead of Timmy and I.
Timmy gave me one last friendly look before he gestured for me to go first, like a gentleman. I returned his friendly smile and did just that.
***
I stood by the glass wall of the boardroom, clutching my tablet like a lifeline.
Abut fifteen men and four women in sleek suits filled the table. All older. All clearly used to being in this kind of room.
I didn't realize the gravity of this being the very first high-stake meeting I was being present at until I stepped foot into the boardroom. It felt entirely overwhelming and nerve-racking being there.
William Torres sat at the head of the table, sharp in his black suit and dark tie, looking exactly how he always did; like he owned everything and didn't care to explain why.
I wasn't technically part of the meeting—just there to take notes. Or so I had been told.
William didn't even glance my way. His voice cut through the room, deep and even:
"Let's begin."
Charts flashed across the screen. Revenue projections. Acquisition targets. It was all happening so fast, I could barely keep up.
Until I noticed something.
The numbers on the last slide didn't match the ones in the file I had reviewed earlier this morning. It wasn't a catastrophic error, but it was one enough to raise eyebrows if anyone caught on to it.
My stomach flipped.
Should I say something?
Was it even my place?
William's voice stayed steady as he discussed the numbers, but I caught it; a slight pause in his tone.
He caught it too.
The entire room was still. Heavy.
Before I could stop myself, my feet already led me closer. I cleared my throat softly.
"Excuse me, Mr. Torres," I said, careful to keep my voice even. "The Q3 projection on slide twelve… I believe there's a discrepancy. It should read 4.3, not 3.4."
Every head turned toward me.
My heart raced uncontrollably against my chest and my palms started to sweat.
William's gaze lifted, slow and sharp.
The room felt frozen for three long seconds.
Then William spoke, his eyes not leaving mine:
"She's right."
There was a quiet shuffle as one of the executives corrected the slide.
William leaned back his chair, his expression unreadable.
"Next time," he said smoothly, "check your numbers before you walk into my boardroom."
No one muttered a word in argument.
The meeting rolled on.
But for the rest of the hour, I could feel eyes on me every now and then. Brief glances. Quiet approval. Maybe even something else.
***
The rest of the day rolled by smoothly.
I had carefully followed through William's schedule and attended to memos and reports without making him upset. I gave myself a mental high five for having managed the day the way that I had.
Just as I was putting my things together, I received a call on telephone from none other than my sweet, delightful employer.
"Ms. Clarke," He said immediately, "a word."
"Okay, sir." I told him, dropping the telephone back in place.
I couldn't help but wonder what he possibly wanted to speak to me about as I made my way to his office door. Making sure to knock first, I stood firmly in my spot till he said that it was okay to come in.
Immediately he did, I pushed the door open and stepped inside. My heels clicked softly against the floor as I walked further in. This time, he didn't act like my presence was irrelevant by focusing his entire attention on his computer screen. I could feel the weight of his gaze till the very moment I stopped in front of his desk.
"You wanted to see me, sir?"
"Yes," He said, tugging on the edge of his suit jacket as he straightened his posture in his seat. "I wanted to discuss your choice of… work clothes."
I could've expected a million things to come out of his mouth, but never that.
"Pardon?"
"During your orientation, were you given a specific dress code?" He asked me, picking up a pen from his desk and fiddling with bob at the tip of it.
My brows came together in confusion, "Corporate attire that is office appropriate."
"I hardly believe, Ms. Clarke, that your dress is… office appropriate." He said, his voice low. "Both this, and the one you had on yesterday."
"I'm not sure I follow." I said, trying my possible best not to let my irritation become visible on my face. "What's wrong with them?"
The dress I had on today wasn't much different from the one I had on yesterday. The only difference was the color, of which today's was black, and the neckline and fabric pattern. It was just as fitted as the other one and the length at mid-thigh. And, yes, I was putting on a black panty hose.
"They're quite provocative, don't you think?" His voice trailed off as he continued to let his fingers dance around the edge of his pen. "…Distracting."
My brows etched in even more confusion.
"You're no baby, Madelyn." He spoke again. "I'm sure you noticed how Timmy and the rest of the executives couldn't keep their eyes off you in the boardroom today. If you're going to keep attending these meetings with me, I can't have you posing as a distraction to my executives. Do you follow?"
You have got to be fucking kidding me.
Something in me told me to simply nod and agree to do just as he said.
But the words came flying out of my mouth before I could even stop myself.
"With all due respect, Mr. Torres, I believe those eyes were on me at the boardroom today because of the comment I made." I kept going. "And even if they weren't, how is it my fault the way those men choose to stare at me? I am, in fact, not wearing anything revealing. I am covered from head to toe and dressed no different than majority of the women who work here. So, excuse me, if I still find your request a little confusing."
Shit.
Your mouh, Maddy, your fucking mouth.
William's head cocked to the side, like he was finding it hard to believe I had the audacity to say anything in opposition at all.
Well, I also was finding it hard to believe that he asked me in here to discuss my choice of work clothes when this conversation could've been had with the executives instead, telling them to focus on whatever task they had on ground rather than staring the CEO's secretary down.
Even if they found me attractive, so what? I was attractive.
And I wasn't going to apologize for that.
Did he think if he put me in a sack, men wouldn't stare at me?
Women stared at him all the time, you didn't see anyone telling him it was a result of the way he dressed.
William rose to his feet, making his way around the table until he was standing directly in front of me. Until he was close. Maybe even too close.
"Let's get one thing clear, Madelyn," He said, his eyes boring into mine. "You work for me. Your job is to keep your mouth shut and do exactly as I say. No complaint."
I could feel his breath fan against my face with each word that left his lips.
"If I tell you I have a problem with your choice of work clothes, you fix your choice of clothes." His voice was as sharp as ice. "You're walking on very thin ice here, Ms. Clarke. And believe me, if you go on with this defiant slip up attitude you have going on, I wouldn't hesitate to relieve you from this position. Do you understand me?"
Heavy breaths escaped me due to how furious I was.
I was fuming.
I was outraged.
If not for the situation I found myself, I would've told him to suck it and kneed him in the balls for speaking to me the way that he was.
"I don't think you heard me correctly." He spoke again, this time his voice sharper. "Do. You. Under. Stand. Me?"
I felt like there were blades in my mouth when I forced myself to say, "Yes, sir."
The edge of his lips moved upward in a mocking smile, "Good."
"Any other thing, sir?" I asked, never once shifting from his gaze.
"No." He straightened his head. "You may leave."
I didn't waste any time in turning my back to him, my ponytail swinging in every direction as I stormed off his office.