Chapter 5 Shayla

I jump awake when I hear my alarm chirping away on the bedside table next to me. I reach over and feel around for my phone; eyes still closed, I managed to find it and snooze the alarm. Ahh silence. Just as I’m about to doze off again, I remember it's my first day at my new job, and I jump out of bed excited. It was seven-forty-five, and I had to be there at nine o’clock. Satisfied I had enough time I drag myself to the bathroom to shower and get ready.

I stare at my reflection in the mirror as I brush my teeth. Eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep and a weekend of heavy drinking had me looking like something out of the night of the living dead. After a steaming hot shower and two mugs of strong coffee, I was feeling a little better. I was trying to convince myself the fluttering around in my stomach wasn’t nerves. Why would I be nervous? I can do this job in my sleep. Ugh, butterflies explode in my stomach again at the thought of work.

I was applying my mascara when my bedroom door bursts open, and Jo walks in with Aimee in tow. I jump at the intrusion and get mascara all over my eyelid ruining my eyeshadow I spent a good ten minutes blending.

“Where in the seven kingdoms of HELL have you been?!” Jo hollers glaring at me, her eyes wide and hair tousled from sleep.

“Shayla we were worried sick! We thought something awful happened to you!” Aimee chastises me.

“Jesus Christ, you scared the bloody shit out of me. And you ruined my mascara!” I grumble annoyed, picking up a cue tip to remove the black blob on my eyelid.

“Stuff the mascara! Where the fuck have you been all weekend? We thought you brought that hot guy you left with back to the apartment, but you weren’t home.” Aimee explains walking over to sit on my bed. “Then we figured maybe you went back to his, and you’d be back Saturday, but you didn’t show up, and your phone was off.”

“Do you have any idea, how scared we were, that you were face down in a ditch somewhere,” Jo adds, placing her hands on her hips to illustrate her annoyance.

“You should have thought about that before you let me go off with a stranger. What the hell were you thinking letting me go off with some rando?”

“You seemed really into each other, and he was hot, so we thought you’d gone to get a little nookie,” Aimee says with a shrug and smirks. “Speaking of, how was the nookie? Must have been good if he didn’t let you leave all weekend.”

“Oh my god!” I pick up a brush and throw it at her which she dodges skilfully, and grins quite pleased with herself. “You know why I wasn’t back Saturday. Let me tell you why— because I was in Vegas.”

“Vegas?” They say in unison, and I nod. “As in Las Vegas…”

“Yes! Vegas, as in Nevada, Las Vegas!” Jo looks over at Aimee, who stares at me, her mouth agape. “I can’t remember a damn thing. I was so drunk I somehow ended up on a private jet flying to the fucking states.”

“With that guy?” Jo questions, a dumbfounded look on her face.

“Yes, with that guy,” I say, pulling my lacy black top on. “That’s not even the worst part, oh no, it gets better. We got married by Elvis. Like legally married.”

Silence.

They gape at me. “You…you got married?” Jo sputters, shaking her head. I nod and apply my lipstick.

“So, wait, let see if I got this right. You met a hot guy at a club, who flew you in his private jet to Las Vegas and married you?” I nod, and she chuckles in response and scratches her nose. “Tell me you at least putout?”

“Aimee!” I exclaim, rolling my eyes and hurl a bottle of primer at her; she falls on the bed and laughs heartily.

“Shayla. Who is this guy?” Jo asks, and I shrug. I pick up his card from the table and hand it to her.

“I don’t know who he is. All I know is his name, Tristan Cole something.”

Jo stares at the card, and her eyes grow wide. “Oh, my God. Shayla…” Jo gasps, staring at the card in her hand and looks at me. “Tristan Cole Hoult! That’s who you’re married to?”

“No fucking way!” Aimee howls, jumping to her feet and snatches the card from Jo. “I knew I recognised him! Oh my god. Shay, do you have any idea who this guy is?”

I shrug and shake my head, staring at the both of them in bemusement. “No, am I supposed to?”

“Um, yes!” They both shout together startling me.

“You of all people should know, Shayla! He’s a renowned architect and the man is also a billionaire! He’s the hottest and most sought after CEO in the country. Look, this is him, right?” She shows me a photo on her phone, and I nod.

I frown and look between them. My head was starting to hurt again. That’s why he looked familiar to me. I’ve seen him in magazines. Oh shit. “Yes, that’s him.”

“Oh my god, you lucky bitch!” Aimee hops up on my bed. “Not only did you sleep with him, but you’re also married to a billionaire, Shayla!” I roll my eyes and pick up my jacket. “I can’t believe it.”

“Jesus. I can’t deal with you two. I have to go to work. I don’t want to be late on my first day.”

“Don’t go. You’re rich now.” Aimee sings jumping on my bed and dancing.

“Aimee, get the hell off my bed! I just made it up.” I grab her leg; pull it, and she tumbles over and rolls off the bed.

“Ouch. I think you broke my arse.” She pouts, rubbing her behind gingerly.

“I have to go. I’m already running late. Fix my damn bed.” I say throwing my pillow at her head and walking out of the bedroom.

“Yes, Mrs Hoult,” Aimee calls out and giggles when I flip her off as I walk to the front door. I can’t even think about the whole Cole fiasco right now. My head was a scrambled mess, and I’m pretty sure I'm still a little drunk. I need to focus on my career if I ever want to make it as an architect. I can barely remember how to spell my name at the moment. I am never drinking again.

I make it to work with five minutes to spare. Please don’t ask me how fast I was driving to make it on time because I’m expecting a fair few speeding tickets in the post.

“Shayla.” I spin when I hear my name, and see the girl that greeted me the last time I came in. Heather, I think her name was.

“I’m Heather. If you’re ready, let me show you around first and then we can go through Mr Hoult’s schedule for the day.”

“Yes, of course. Sounds good.” I follow her through the glass doors, and we walk through an open plan office with several fancy cubicles, high-tech computers with two monitors that are for drawing your designs.

“So, this is your desk, and you already know where Mr Hoult’s office is.” I nod, smiling, my eyes taking in the office, as she continues to go on and on about his schedule. “He’s very peculiar and likes things a certain way. For example, he has his coffee black, with skimmed milk on the side, ready on his desk at seven-forty-five. He has a sesame bagel with smoked salmon, and fat-free cream cheese at eight o’clock every morning, religiously.”

“Got it.”

“Excellent. A little helpful advice, he works a lot, like around the clock. So, he’s often quite grumpy because he’s tired. If you see him loosening his tie, and rub his temples, it means he’s angry steer clear unless he calls for you. If he does— do not speak. I found nodding helps. Do not enter his office without knocking; wait for him to gesture you in. Understand?”

I look over at the empty office and gulp. Oh boy, this man sounds like a real headcase. It sure is going to be a hoot working for him. I follow Heather back to the open office. “Well, I think you’ve pretty much got the gist of the job. I’m sure you two will get along great. He should be out of his meeting shortly, and we can head over and introduce you to him.” Heather explains as we walk over to the kitchen area where the coffee machines and fridges stocked up with drinks and shelves stocked with snacks. At least they look after their employees.

I was enjoying my caramel latte and people watching when Heather came bouncing along. “He is out of his meeting. Let’s go and get you acquainted.” I nod and follow her through the office toward the CEO’s office. I was real baffled every time she said the words ‘introduce you’ like I hadn’t met him at the interview. Maybe she forgot.

We walk into the office I had my interview with the silver fox. The painting on the wall caught my eye, and I was admiring it when I just about noticed Heather say my name. “Mr Hoult, this your new executive assistant, Shayla.” I spin and look at him. Our eyes meet first. I let my gaze wander the length of him, and my heart sinks to the pit of my stomach.

“You.”