Chapter Five

**CHERYL**

I stepped through the doors of Grayson Sons & Co and smiled at Pamela, the receptionist seated behind the circular reception desk.

“Good morning, Pamela,” I cheerily greeted her as I approached the large desk.

She glanced up and a huge smile broke out on her oval–shaped face. “Hey, Cheryl, long time no see.”

I chuckled. “I could say the same to you, though you're looking quite radiant this morning.”

She blushed a fiery red. “Oh, you didn't know? I got engaged!” she threw out her left hand and proudly displayed the huge rock seated on her engagement finger.

I ‘oh–ed’ and ‘ahhed' over the magnificent masterpiece. “Wow, it's really beautiful, Pamie.”

She beamed and brought the finger closer to her face, her thumb slowly caressing the ring fondly. “I know right, Jared really outdid himself. He told me he got this ring when he was in France a few months ago”

“Uh, Jared?” I asked, perplexed. “I thought his name was James.”

“Oh,” she scoffed and rolled her eyes. “I had broken up with James two months before I met Jared.”

I blinked. “So you've been with Jared for–”

“Two months, three days, thirty minutes, and six seconds.” she recited.

I blinked rapidly. Well, that was fast. “I'm really happy for you, Pamie. I hope you would invite me to the wedding whenever it comes up.”

“Sure, of course.”

“So,” I leaned in. “I wanted to know if Mr. Grayson was in.”

“Yup, he came in a few moments ago. Are you here to meet him?”

“Yes, please do let him know that I'm here.”

“Of course, just a moment.” she focused on the screen in front of her, steadily punching away at the keyboard, before she pressed down on the intercom on her desk, probably ringing Mr. Grayson.

I exhaled and glanced down at the file I was clutching in my hand. If this goes as planned, Heron Industries would be winning another prestigious client and be another step closer to clinching the Industry award yet again. Satisfaction bloomed in my lower stomach and spread throughout my body.

Pamela released the intercom. “All done, you may go on now, Cheryl. Mr. Grayson is waiting.”

I smiled at her. “Thank you, Pamie. And good luck with your wedding.”

She mirrored my smile. “You're welcome.”

I turned and took a step towards the elevator when my phone began to ring.

“Oh, com'on, people. I'm in the middle of something important right now.” I groaned under my breath and then dug my hand into the small purse that I was carrying to retrieve my phone.

Looking at the caller ID, I groaned even more. “What is it, Mia, I'm in the middle of something very important right–”

“Cheryl, you've got to get your ass back to the company, right now!” Mia yelled with urgency.

My steps faltered as my brows drew together. “Why? I just left there not so long ago. So what could be the possible–”

My mind immediately flew to someplace worse. “Is the building on fire or something?”

“No!” Mia shrieked so loudly that I had to pull my ears away from my phone for some minutes. “But it will be if you don't get here in the next ten minutes,” she added in a low whisper.

“Now you are not really making any sense.” I rubbed my fingers across my forehead. Is this some kind of a prank? But Mia is sounding quite panicked.

“Just get back right here, Cheryl. Please.” and then the line went dead.

So I'm either going to go out on a limb and take Mia seriously or I can brush her call off and carry on with what I was here to do. I eyed my phone and sighed.

God, I can't really believe that I'm doing this.

I turned and stalked off towards the entrance, my fingers already flying across the screen of my phone, sending an apology text to Mr. Grayson on the basis of an ‘important emergency’. I am seriously going to kill Mia if this later turned out to be a prank.

I flew past Pamela who gaped at me with bewilderment.

“Wait, Cheryl, what happened–”

“It's an emergency, Pamela, I will come in again later in the day!” I threw over my shoulder as I exited the building.

A few minutes later, I'm hailing a cab and headed towards Heron Industries. Later on, I stumbled into the all-familiar building, and a strong sense of foreboding washed over me.

Strangely enough, everywhere was oddly calm with a dash of eerie apprehension. Nicki was missing from her position and there were no visitors in sight in the reception area.

With my heart in my mouth, I got into the elevator and fervently prayed that it was not something serious.

“Oh, my God! Thank God you are here,” Mia said as soon as she caught sight of me getting off the elevator. Visible relief passed over her face and the feeling of foreboding building in my chest blossomed into something more dreadful.

I walked over to her. “What's going on, Mia,” I threw glances around us. “Where's everyone and why the hell did you–”

“It's Mr. Heron.” she blurted out and I frowned.

“What?”

She exhaled and visibly slumped a little. Even her ever-perfect made-up face was a little blotched and pale. I swallowed.

“I know this might sound crazy but you need to go in there.” she threw a hand towards Damien's office.

I made my way to his office with a heavy heart, already knowing what was coming. I could hear his voice even before I pushed open the door.

“What do you mean the client is not happy with the proposal?” he boomed, his voice echoing off the walls.

I stepped into the room, hoping to pacify him. And as soon as my gaze landed on Kendra, Molly, and Frankie from the client maintenance department. My stomach dropped.

Oh boy, this can't be good.

“Mr. Heron, I understand that the client is not completely satisfied with the proposal, but we’re working on making the necessary changes-“ Kendra the bolder one began with a tiny quiver in her voice. I'll applaud her later, not many can speak when Damien is in a mood.

“That’s not good enough, Kate!” he interrupted, slamming his fist down on the desk. They all flinched and drew a step back. “Do you even know how long it took to get this client? We can’t afford to lose them now.” he bellowed, his voice rising an octave higher.

Frankie was now shaking terribly, his lower lip trembling and Molly was dividing wide-eyed glances between the door and Damien, probably bidding her time to bolt. Kendra herself blanched an unhealthy shade of white.

“What's the name of the other company competing for this client with us?” he asked, a pulse throbbing frantically in his temple.

“Blac…k woo..d Indus–” Kendra stuttered but came to a stop when Damien pinned her with a look so dark it will rival the devil's. Personally, I felt shivers skirting down my spine.

His eyes narrowed to slits and his hands furled into big balls of fury. “What. Did. You. Just. Say,” he ground out from tightly clenched teeth.

My heartbeat stopped. No, no… any company but Blackwood Industries, our biggest competitor and Damien arch enemy for reasons known to him.

“It's my fault, Mr. Heron,” I butted in and sporadically mentally slapped myself. What the hell am I doing?

Rest in peace, Cheryl Chastain.

His enraged glare cuts in my direction and pinned me to a place with its intensity. After a few minutes, the inferno in his eyes dimmed to a little fire.

“What do you mean, Ms. Chastain,” he growled.

Ok. Keep calm, Cheryl. You can do this.

My lips suddenly dried and I immediately wetted them and then I went out on a limb to save my colleague's jobs and probably their heads.

From the corner of my eyes, I glimpsed the three of them gaping at me with identical stunned expressions on their faces. I know they're probably wondering what I am up to but the truth is, I still don't know myself.

You are doing this for a good cause, Cheryl… Kendra, Frankie, and Molly would keep their jobs but me? I would probably be thirty-two feet under in the next hour.

I was suddenly craving a hot chocolate drink… probably has to do with the imminent death staring at me in the face.

Keep calm, Cheryl.

Damien arched a brow at me and it came to my notice that I was just standing there without saying anything.

“Oh,” I cleared my throat and pushed a finger up my nose– a nervous habit. “It's my fault the client is not completely satisfied with the proposal. I should have done more research on them before forwarding the project to Kendra and her team over here.”

I slightly bent my head in mortification. God, Cheryl, what none sense are you spewing? “I'm truly sorry, Sir.”

He cocked his head to a side and regarded me skeptically. “Is that so?”

I bit into my lower lip and grimaced. No. “Yes, Mr. Heron, so don't blame them. It was my fault and I take full responsibility.” I said instead.

He gazed at me for another unnerving moment before his voice boomed once again. “Leave us.”

My head jerked up at lightning speed. ‘No, don't’, I mentally pleaded with them only for the traitors to bolt right out the door without a backward glance.

Wow, so much for team spirit and togetherness.

Damien strode purposefully toward me, his dark, piercing brown eyes locked on mine. He came to a stop before me, towering over me, his incredibly broad shoulders blocking out the afternoon sunlight streaming through the ceiling-to-floor window.

Resisting the sudden urge to shrink against the wall behind me, I stood my ground and stared right back at him. His eyes slowly roamed across my face as if he was actually seeing me for the first time, but it was when his hot gaze settled on my lips that my belly quivered.

And just like that, the air between us changed, crackling with the latent heat and sensuality that pulsed between us.

My eyes widened as if realizing what was happening. What. The. Actual.Fuck. Was.That.

Damien's brows furrowed as if confused by the whole situation but seemed to regain his composure faster than I did.

He jerked away from me so fast and walked over to his chair. “I am going to let you off the hook this time, Ms. Chastain. But I wouldn't be so merciful next time, do you understand?”

“I understand, Mr. Heron,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm and level when everything inside was turning into a wreck. “We'll work through it and make sure the final proposal is up to their expectations.”

He stared at me for a few moments before finally sighing and leaning back in his chair. “Fine. But I want you to personally oversee the changes and make sure it’s done right.”

“Of course, Mr. Heron,” I said.

He nodded, dismissing me with a wave of his hand. I turned to leave, relieved to be out of his presence.

As I walked out of his office, I couldn’t help but think about what just happened back in there. I reached up and squeezed my neck lightly to get rid of the lingering shit swimming in my belly.

Just as I was about to walk into my office, the traitor trio accompanied by Ellie and Mia appeared from nowhere.

“So how did it go, did he believe you?” Molly asked with her eyes wide open and nervously wriggling her fingers. “Mr. Heron isn't going to fire us, is he?”

“How can you say that, Molly? Mr. Heron wouldn't do such a thing.” Mia tried consoling her but grimaced as soon as the words left her lips, 'cause yeah, Mr. Heron is capable of doing such a thing.

Frankie shook his head vigorously, a sheen of sweat coating his forehead. “I don't think so, Mia, he looked pretty angry back there,” he shuddered. “I nearly shit my pants, you know.”

Welcome to the club, man.

“Well, for the record, no one is getting fired,” I said and all three of them heaved a deep sigh of relief at once. “But, you guys owe me one. Big time.” I made a point to stare pointedly at each one of them.

They all bobbed their head frantically. “Of course, Cheryl, thank you so much,” they said in unison.

I smiled. “You're welcome but all hands must be on deck to make sure you guys prepare the proposal very well this time. He might not take it lightly like this next time,” I said and I meant it. “Don't hesitate to ask for my help if you guys ever need it, okay?”

“Yes, thank you once again for saving our butt back there. For a moment there, I thought he might catch onto the lie but he didn't and I'm grateful,” Kendra said and they all nodded.

“Now, wait a minute,” Ellie finally spoke up and for a moment, I thought that she had somehow seen what had transpired between Damien and me at the last minute. I held my breath.

She narrowed her eyes at me and shifted it to Damien's door. “I still don't get it,” she sighed. “How come you managed to calm him down within a few minutes of your arrival.”

The tension in my shoulders disappeared. “Personal assistant luck, huh?” I tried shrugging it off as nothing.

“Right!” she drawled and clutched onto my upper arm and tugged me towards the direction of the elevator. “Com'on let us treat you to a nice meal for helping us avoid putting off fire here.”

We all laughed and as we all walked to the elevator, I shoved the remnants of that “incident” into a deep dark recess in my mind and slammed a lid on it.

Cause that's where it belongs. In my imagination.