Naughty Camille

Camille's POV

"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!"

Gavriel Donovan was a hard man, to please. It had been a month since I began working for him, and I couldn't count the number of times he had yelled at me.

Nothing I did seemed good enough for him.

Currently, he sat behind his desk, glaring at the tablet before him as if it were a piece of disgusting metal. His eyes moved from the device to me, and I pressed my lips together, wondering what I had done wrong this time.

"Camille," he said in a deadly cool tone.

"Yes, Mr Donovan?" I said in a false cheery voice.

"What is this?" He gestured at the PowerPoint presentation playing on the tablet.

"Your presentation, sir,"

"Why," he gritted his teeth before he continued "does it have pink doodles all over it?!"

I blinked. That was what he had a problem with? The doodles? I resisted the urge to facepalm myself. Every single time I forgot, he was way older than me, he reminded me by acting like this.

And how could I not forget?

He looked so ho