Chapter Three

**Cheryl**

A couple of hours later, I'm dragging my beaten and worn-out ass home and grumbling under my breath, tiredly. I could really do with a nice late-night meal and right now.

I suddenly regretted telling Gwen not to wait up for me. Turns out that one skill I have in the kitchen department, is only limited to making my own coffee and burning toast. All the culinary skills from my mom were inherited by my older sister, Sheila. I just got the brains.

Using my key, I opened the apartment but was stopped in my tracks.

I blinked once, and then twice to make sure I'm not imagining things due to my hunger.

“Please tell me that's food I'm seeing right there,” I pleaded earnestly.

I surveyed the room and motioned to the dining table which was set with assorted dishes. Gwen stood a few meters away with a huge contented sheepish grin on her face, her hands locked tightly behind her back.

“Well,” she clapped her hands together. “It's just a little something to cheer you up after your hectic day at work”.

A huge smile broke out on my face. “Really?”

“Yep. And feel free to shower me with praises later on for being awesome,” she teased, motioning me to the table. “Com'on, don't just stand there, the food is getting cold.”

“Right.”

I dropped my bag and eagerly walked to the table. Releasing a deep sigh, I sunk into the chair that she had drawn out. “Thanks.”

She beamed at me as she unveiled a dish in front of me. “Ta-da! Your delicious spicy chicken sandwich and chips.”

My jaw dropped in awe. “Wow, it smells delicious.”

Gwen nodded. “It is. Dig in.”

I grabbed a plate and filled it with the mouthwatering food. “Hmm,” I moaned with delight after the first bite. “This tastes so good.”

Gwen playfully rolled her eyes at me. “Duh! Am the cook.”

I chuckled and savored each bite.

“So tell me, how did it later go... at work?” she asked and examined me from head to toe. “Clearly, you weren't fired, or you would have been bawling your eyes right now.”

I suddenly felt less ravenous than before, I replied, “I don't know. Maybe it's because I'm still trying to figure out how much of a jerk my boss, ‘The Devil’ really is.”

Gwen leaned in closer, curious. “What did he do this time?”

I let out a reluctant sigh and took another bite. “He knew about it all along.”

“He knew about what?” Gwen pressed.

I gave her a meaningful look, and her eyes widened. “WTF! He knew about it and still didn't call you out on it like he normally did to the previous employees?”

I solemnly nodded.

“But why?” Gwen asked, her face contorted in anger

I shrugged. “I have no idea.”

Gwen pulled back with a nasty look on her face. “That's just mean. He probably did it on purpose to make you sweat it out.”

“Exactly,” I agreed.

“Just when I thought he wouldn't stoop so low, he goes on to prove me wrong. What exactly does he get from putting people on edge, huh?” Gwen seethed . And damn right, I was on edge.

“It probably helps him sleep at night,” I mumbled, taking another bite of the delicious chips.

Gwen turned her head towards me, eyes filled with rage and murderous intent. “Why aren't you fuming about this? You should be spewing out fire from your nostrils for fucks sake!”

I looked at Gwen, my expression less neutral. “Spewing fire from my nostrils?”

“Yes!” she exclaimed without hesitation.

“Well,thanks, but you seem more aigtated with the whole situation than I am.” I replied, waving my fork around her face. “And trust me, The Devil ain't worth that kind of a reaction. He's just wired that way, to torment those beneath him.”

Gwen grunted in response and stuck out her bottom lip like a petulant child.

“Besides, this isn't the first nor is it gonna be the last time something like this will happen,” I shrugged. “I've chosen to live with it. And let's not forget the incredibly high amount he pays me. Never forget the money.”

Gwen rolled her eyes. “Him paying you well doesn't make up for the fact that he's an asshole, Cheryl. I wonder how you manage to tolerate working in close proximity with him. I'd rather stab myself in the eye with a knife.”

I laughed, trying to keep it light with food in my mouth. “That's hilarious.” I moaned again as I tasted another chip. “Girl, this is really delicious.”

“Yep,” she pops the P at the end. “But trust me when I say that sex is even better.”

I choked on a forkful of chips and started coughing uncontrollably. Gwen rolled her eyes at me once again before handed me a glass of water. I grabbed the glass with both hands and rapidly gulped it down untill the slight burning sensation on my tongue subsided.

“Oh my god! What the heck, girl,” I croaked due to my sore throat.

“What?” She widened her eyes at me innocently. “It's true. I know food is good and all that stuff but, girl, sex is much more satisfying. Take it from an expert.” she winked at me, snatched a piece of fry from my plate, and popped it into her mouth.

I gaped and shook my head at her. “You're such a weirdo.”

Gwen rolled her eyes heavenward in frustration. “There's nothing weird about sex. In fact, it's an exhilarating pleasurable experience where a man sticks his cock into a–”

I quickly slapped my hands over my ears. “La la la la la la. I can't hear you.” I sang in a high–pitched voice.

Gwen wrinkled her nose in annoyance at me. “God, you're such a prude.”

I playfully glared at her “No, am not,” I defended myself.

She gave me a bored look. “You act like one,” She looked at me pointedly. “You really need to get laid and have some fun in the bedroom.”

“I'll keep that in mind, my lady, and maybe find time for it in my busy schedule,” I said, flashing an exaggerated smile.

She nodded with satisfaction. “Good, because i'm setting up a blind date for you very soon.” She stood and turned to leave to her room.

My cutlery dropped with a clatter onto my plate, as I gaped at her back in horror. “Wait, what!” I cried out in utter disbelief.

She stopped in her tracks. “What you heard, girl. It's about time a man helped clean your webby-like pussy.”

“My pussy is damn clean, Gwen!”

“Whatever rocks your boat, girl!” she yelled back. “Who knows if that's what have been blocking your head from realizing how much of a dickwad your boss is.” she mumbled the last part.

“I heard that,” I called after her.

Her response was the sound of her door slamming shut.

Ugh! Did I ever mention that my roomie is quite eccentric and can be quite persistent? Well, now I have.

And that probably means I'm in deep trouble .

******★

Do you know how many times I've wondered if Mr. Heron is suffering from a case of spilt- personality disorder? Let's say like a thousand times since I started working for him three years ago.

But let's face it, for now, we only have Damien; the grump, Damien; the irate, and... aha! Damien; the asshole. Can't afford to forget the most important one.

Right now, we have the irate Damien. He came in this morning with a scowl darker than his heart and then began roaring fire at his lowly subjects. On days like this, I really feel like strangling him.

“Is he still angry?” A voice came from above me.

I raised my head and smiled... Well, it was more of a grimace, actually. “Yep, and he's not calming down any moment soon.” I said to Ellie.

She expelled a tired breath and ran a hand through her perfect blonde hair. “God, that man really needs to get laid,” She muttered under her breath.

I realeased an amused chuckle. Why is everyone around me saying things like this lately.

Ellie shook her head. “I just don't get it. How do you even cope with him?. I mean, you have been working for him for three good years. And no one, I repeat, no one has been able to work with him for a week without having a mental break down” She paused, leaned forward and stage- whispered. “So spill, how do you do it?.”

I pushed my glasses up my nose with a finger and lifted a shoulder. “Daily doses of aspirin, washed down with a glassful of tolerance topped with determination to totally ignore him.” I smiled. “Not so expensive, is it?.”

Ellie threw her head back and laughed. “Yea, I thought as much.” She cleared her throat, and sobered up. “Though, there have been some talks”

My brows slowly drew together in confusion. “Talks about what?”

Ellie cringed. “Well, I have over heard people saying that it's because you...” The tips of her ears turned red as if she is embarrassed about what she's about to say.

“That it's because...you sleep with him!” She blurted out so quickly and her cheeks instantly pinked.

“Oh... I see,” I said.

Ellie immediately rushed forward to me, hands stretched out. “But, I never hesitate to set them right and tell them that it's not true.” She then narrowed her eyes at me in a way that tells me she's waiting for me to either confirm the rumors or support her claim. I do neither.

This isn't the first time a co-worker has come asking this same question, all coming under the impression that they mean well but I know they're just fishing for gossip to spread in the coffee room.

I shrugged non-chalantly and smiled.

Ellie went quiet for a second waiting for me to elaborate more. “And that's it!” She exclaimed in disbelief.

She inhaled and exhaled “Look,” She walked forward to me and clasps her hand over mine. “Am not going to judge you if you are. Who the heck cares about what people think if the man in question keeps you happy and is quite good in the sack.”

I slipped my hand from under hers as my eyes rounded in shock. “Ellie!” I chastised her mildly as my eyes immediately scanned the arena for any possible listening ears and released a sigh of relief when I saw none.

Ellie rolled her eyes “Oh, please, Cheryl. God knows how many woman has sworn off hooking up with a man because it's quite hard to find one who's good and scales the requirements these days.” She added an additional, exaggerated roll of the eyes as if annoyed with the whole situation.

A giggle escaped my lips and I immediately draped a hand over my mouth to smother them.

“And, hey!” She reduced her voice to a low conspiratorial whisper. “Damien is quite a gorgeous man, alright. And if not that I am happily married to the love of my life –and receiving some actions every night– I'ad totally do him.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at me.

I couldn't hold it back any longer, I laughed. “Don't let Julian hear that, bet he won't be happy that his beloved is thinking of shagging another man.”

Ellie huffed dramatically. “He knows I would never do such a thing!”

We both shared a hearty laugh. Julian and Ellie has been married for over 5 years now, and still dote over each other like newlyweds. Ellie totally loves that man to bits and would never do anything to hurt him.

The door to Mr Heron's office was suddenly flung open — abruptly bringing our laugh to an end— and a small man carrying a mini brief case hurried out with a panicked look on his face. With one last petrified look at Damien's office, he scurried away to the elevator.

“Who's that?” Ellie asked and I sighed.

“Another receptor of the irate Damien, I guess.” I answered.

And yep, Damien the irate is still very much present and he's gonna call in three...two...o..

The intercom on my desk beeped, I exhaled, exasperatingly, and then press down the button.

“Yes, Mr. Heron.”

“My office. Now,” He said and hung up.

I sighed and turned to look at Ellie who just smiled. “You'd better go before he bursts his stitches and sets this building on fire,” She said with her lips set into a firm thin line and gestured for me to get going.

I nodded once and then scooped up any important files he might ask of and stood to my feet.

Time to brace the lion in his den, Cheryl.