Chapter Three

Greg Marshall watched as Miss Wells stood glued to a spot. She was in shorts and tank top, her auburn hair was in a neat bun and all he wanted right now was to see it down. He could see every shape of her body and wanted to run his hands over her. Damn, what was wrong with him?

Miss Wells looked at him, he couldn't see the emotions on her face and he concluded that she must be a really confusing fellow, why? She was an open book at one point and he could read every damn emotion on her face like at the conference room, but now her face was blank, he couldn't tell what she was thinking.

Greg still doesn't know what had captivated him about her at first, but he knew he was definitely captivated by her. The first thing he had notice about her was her eyes and the way she covered her face with her iPad when he looked towards her at the conference room. Well no, he won't deny the fucking crazy fact that she was frivolously beautiful, like damn the girl was freaking gorgeous.

He had chosen her for his secretary because he had been curious about her; she was someone who interested him and he intended to fill up his curious mind.

Greg's mind stopped spiraling when he saw the look on her face, a look of guilt. What was she so guilty about? He wanted to know. As far as he knew this was the first time he was seeing her. Her eyes looked very familiar with a certain girl, but he knew better. He ignored the look and smiled at her.

"Hello," he heard the nonexistent brunette standing at his front say. How come he didn't notice she was there? She had been the one to open the door for him, but could you blame him, Ashley Wells had taken up his mind. He smiled politely at her and tried to remember where he had seen her, then he remembered that she was one of the employees at the company. Damn, there were a lot of pretty girls at his father's company.

"I'll be in my room Ashley, I need to go to bed now," the brunette said and left before Miss wells could give her a reply.

"What do you want here?" Miss Wells asked not bothering to ask him to seat. He was sure her hospitality level was minus forty five percent.

"I thought I already made myself clear," he said as he took his seat on the only couch that looked healthy enough. He wasn't saying that the apartment was dirty, it wasn't. In fact it was very neat and pretty, but the couches in here were so old and faded. It looked like it must have been passed down from generation to generation. It was old and worn out, and looking very out of place in the apartment.

He looked up at Miss Wells who was right now shooting daggers at him for a reason known to her alone, "won't you have a seat." He pointed to the couch opposite to him.

"What!" she scoffed with disgust. She looked fully pissed but he didn't care right now. He was enjoying the look of anger on her face and he couldn't hide his smile, "inviting me to sit in my own house."

"I would like a cup of coffee if you don't mind."

"As a matter of fact I mind," she said. she sat facing him which was a surprise, he had thought she wasn't interested in sitting. "What do you want here Mr Marshall?"

He ignored her question and looked at her. He stared at her for quite a while, there was something so freaking familiar about that gorgeous Hazel eyes of hers. It reminded him so much of that same Hazel eyes from two years ago, but this eyes can never be the same one from before. This one held too much love and hope and fear and so much more that he couldn't describe.

"Now that you have confirmed the address I left is correct, can you please leave." He noticed that she was restraining herself from exploding and damn he wanted to see her explode, its been long since someone interested him this much.

"When is the coffee gonna be ready?" Greg asked nonchalantly. He saw the look she gave him and knew he had to back himself up, "you're my secretary starting from tomorrow, meaning you will also need to prepare my coffee, so I need to taste it now to know if you still stand the job."

"Huhhh making coffee...but that wasn't part of my job."

"Your job as my secretary is to do whatever job I leave to you, and one of it is preparing my coffee," he said with a smirk.

"Do you confirm every of your secretary houses and taste their coffee before hiring them?"

"For all I can remember you're my first secretary."

"Oh typical," Miss Wells said and walked briskly to a small kitchen at the right side of the room. Greg watched her as she left until she entered into the kitchen. After minutes of waiting for her he decided he might just look around. He stood up and walked to a corner of the room that was decorated with pictures. He inspected some of the pictures on the floral themed wall, most of it was of her and the Brunette, in sports cloth and different attire, and in several other dresses, and they were both so gorgeous. A few moments later she came in and handed a mug to him without saying a word, his hand grazed hers for a second making him flinch at the spark of electricity that shot through him. There was a permanent scowl on her face and come to think of it he had never seen her smile, but that shouldn't be an issue since he was just meeting her today.

"You guys must have being heartbreakers back at school," he said admitting that the two pair were definitely beautiful. He saw a Little blush creep towards her cheeks; he smiled, glad he was capable of making her blush.

He tasted his coffee and spat it out immediately, "what the fuck is this?" This was officially the worst coffee he ever tasted. The taste was foreign and strange on his tongue, it was still coffee but not his type of coffee. "What gave you the impression that I like my coffee black?"

"I just thought that would be your preference," she said. He heard her voice tremble a bit. The look on her face was that of fear and he felt really stupid for yelling, he didn't like the look of fear on her face, it reminded him so much of that night. Fear was the exact look he saw in that girls eyes at first, seeing it in Ashley Wells eyes, made it seem as though he was seeing the same person, but he knew better.

"I hate black coffee, understood," He said quietly. He gave the mug to her. She took it with shaky hands and looked up at him, and that was when he realized how short she was. He didn't notice that before, but with her looking up at him he couldn't help but notice.

"OK sir." she said looking him square in the eyes, "so what type of coffee do you prefer?"

"That's what you should have asked before going ahead and making black coffee. Cafe latte nothing else but that." He saw her face fill up with disbelief, "what? Is it weird that I like that?"

"No, it's just...it's the first time I'll see a guy that likes cafe latte, it's rare, especially a guy like you."

"What's wrong with a guy like me liking cafe latte?" he asked pointedly, this got her bursting into laughter. He smiled as he saw her laughing, it was so real no faking there, "huh huh." He coughed to get back her attention.

"I'll never forget your love for café latte Mr Marshall."

"Feel free to call me Greg," he said. He knew he had to get use to the whole 'Mr Marshall' shit, and he was already kinda used to it, but he hated it when she says it. It felt so brutal.

"I'm sorry but I can't do that, you're my boss," she said lightly.

"Well do what suits you, but I'll call you Ashley, if you don't mind, or do you?" he said.

"No sir."

"Okay, bye Ashley." He said, loving the way her name rolled off his lips.

"Good night Mr Marshall."

Stepping out of her apartment he couldn't help but question his sanity.

Why the heck had he come to her house?

He kinda felt a little stupid but a little happy. He wanted to see her and he had seen her, so.