Read Shake Her World (Restrained Book 1) Online
Authors: Sylvie Nathan
Shake Her World (Restrained Book 1)
Sylvie
Nathan
Shake Her World
Copyright ©
2015 Sylvie Nathan
First Published in the United States
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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Table of Contents
Being able to see the future has its perks. It gives you a chance to prepare for all the bad things that might come in your way, but it mostly just sucks, because as it turns out actively interfering with your or other people’s fate is the surest way to fuck everything up. Then there is the whole secrecy issue. It shouldn’t be a big deal, after all what sane seer (or whatever you want to call it) would want to be either hunted and sacrificed on the altar of religion or hounded by people who want to know what fortune is waiting for them in the future?
Except it is a big deal, because it’s usually not about keeping your mouth shut about your wondrous abilities, but about not outing yourself accidentally by saying something you shouldn’t know. Like that your gorgeous, hard-ass boss is a pliable ball of fluff around her cats. Or that she sleeps in colorful, striped socks because her feet get cold. Or that she’s actually biggest dork you’ve ever seen.
Ariana does her best, really. She’s rarely late from work even if she has to sprint through the foyer of Wouldridge & Mason with a piping hot coffee in her right hand and her bag in the left. In five inch heels and a pencil skirt. So, okay, she’s usually a spectacle, but the girls at the reception desk are used to her just like Phil, the security guard, who always greets her with an exasperated smile. But she’s always in the office before her boss, waiting for Ms. Mason’s arrival with a sunny, if totally fake, smile plastered onto her face.
Ms. Mason rarely smiles. Her disgustingly beautiful face is always etched into a pinched, stressed out expression when she storms into the office, barking orders even before taking her coat off. She’s terrifying and bossy as hell, which drives most employees crazy, but Ariana just can’t muster up the energy to feel threatened by her. Because striped socks and fluffy kittens. So it’s hard, but not unbearable, because at least, Ariana doesn’t have to dream about Ms. Mason having sex with her boyfriend, like it happened one time with her best friend.
She doesn’t even really think about why Ms. Mason frequents her dreams so often. They spend a ridiculous amount of time together, even if Ms. Mason only deigns Ariana worthy of her attention when she wants something. Or when she’s chewing her out for whatever dumb mistake Ariana is accused to have made. Or when she’s demanding more coffee. Either way, it’s natural that her dreams latch onto her, because Ms. Mason is practically the only person she sees for more than a couple of hours at best.
And it’s not like Ariana minds the dreams. They’re sweet and harmless, but above everything, they don’t make Ariana feel guilty for not preventing some life-changing event to happen. Not to mention, seeing a different side to her boss gives her a sliver of hope that maybe one day, Ms. Mason will finally understand that she doesn’t need to try so hard to be respected by her employees. She’s a brilliant computer programmer and every single person working at Wouldridge & Mason knows this.
Ariana is content to let things go on without saying or doing anything for as long as the dreams keep finding her, but then everything changes and her dreams are not so sweet anymore. It starts with her seeing Ms. Mason’s boyfriend fucking another woman, which is not only maddening as hell, but also unfair. Because the thing about interfering with people’s lives making everything worse? Honestly true. Which means Ariana has to keep her mouth shut even though she wants to do nothing more than bash the bastard’s face in when he saunters in the next day, all charming grins and shamelessness.
“Hey there, Anna,” he greets cheerfully, mispronouncing her name like always. “Sophie in?”
“Ms. Mason is at a meeting with Mr. Wouldridge, Mr. Thompson,” Ariana answers as politely as she can. “Do you want to leave a message?”
“What, no coffee and offering me to wait for her in her office?” Thompson jokes, flashing another wide smile.
“Ms. Mason locks her office every time she leaves for longer than 15 minutes.” It’s really hard to bite the “you moron” back that just wants to spill out of Ariana’s mouth.
Seriously, how long have this clown been Ms. Mason’s boyfriend? Over a year, and he still acts like he doesn’t know that Ms. Mason never leaves her office open, because she’s paranoid about her work being stolen. Or just rightfully suspicious, because who know what Thompson would do if he got full reign their unsupervised.
“And you don’t happen to have a spare key?”
“Mr. Thompson, do you need me to look for a neurologist for you?”
“Now, why would I need that?” the guy asks, surprised.
“To check your apparent case of senility,” Ariana deadpans, earning an eye roll and a rueful chuckle.
“Harsh, Anna. I just wanted to surprise, Sophie.”
“Ms. Mason doesn’t like surprises.”
“I’m sure, she’d love this. If you know what I mean.” He even wiggles his eyebrows, as if the suggestion that he wants to fuck his girlfriend in her office during the busiest time of the day isn’t revolting enough in itself. After cheating on her with some poor girl who probably has no idea that he’s been in a long-term relationship with the CEO of a multimillion dollar company.
He’s a fucking piece of shit and Ariana wants to gauge his eyes out with her five inch heels.
“Well, you’re out of luck.” She shoots Thompson a toothy grin. “I don’t have a spare key.” It’s a lie, but the jerkwad doesn’t need to know that. “So can I take a message?”
Thompson’s face sours, but he’s quick to cover it up. “Nah, just tell her, I’ll pick her up after work tonight.”
“I’ll do, Mr. Thompson. Have a nice day.”
And please, get hit by a bus.
“See you, Anna.”
He leaves with a little wave while Ariana flips him the bird the moment his back disappears behind the tinted glass door that separates her tiny office from the bullpen. She turns back to her screen, staring at the open planner worksheet blankly. Ms. Mason could do so much better than Neil Thompson. She definitely deserves much better than Neil Thompson. Someone who would accept her and love her just the way she is, and not a complete asshole who cheats on her behind her back and talks down to her whenever they’re in company.
Sadly, Ariana can’t do anything to open her boss’ eyes. So she forces herself to concentrate on entering Ms. Mason’s schedule into the digital planner and getting lost in double checking the seemingly endless dates of meetings and other events Ms. Mason has lined up for the next week. She doesn’t look up until she hears the soft clicking sound of Ms. Mason’s heels, and has to muster up all her courage to force a smile onto her lips at the sight of her boss’ thunderous expression.
“Any messages?” Ms. Mason asks, the coldness in her voice making Ariana cringe inwardly.
“Mr. Thompson was here but left when I told him he couldn’t wait for you in your office,” she answers dutifully. Ms. Mason’s eyes narrow.
“He perfectly knows no one is allowed in my office when I’m not present.”
“He wanted to surprise you.”
If she didn’t know better, she’d swear twin spots of dark red appears on Ms. Mason’s mocha colored cheeks when she presses her lips into a thin line. Apparently, Ariana couldn’t hide the derision from her tone enough to prevent her boss from catching onto the hidden meaning.
“He said he’ll pick you up after work tonight,” Ariana adds, changing the subject quickly.
After a few heartbeats of silence, Ms. Mason nods. “Thank you. Anything else?”
“I finished double checking your schedule for next week. And Mr. Carlisle called to confirm your attendance at the Alan Turing Foundation’s Annual Charity Gala tomorrow.”
“Have you checked my appointment for the final fitting with Beatrice?”
“Of course. She’s expecting you at eight tonight.”
“Paul?”
“He’ll be at your apartment tomorrow at four.”
“Christine?”
“Her team will go with Paul.”
“The car?”
“Will be waiting for you and Mr. Thompson at seven.”
“Good.” Ms. Mason nods, her anger slowly melting away. “My speech?”
“I left it on your desk alongside with the list of guests you should know about.”
“Anyone in particular?”
“I highlighted the most important people’s names.”
Ms. Mason hums in assent. “Thank you, Ana.”
“Would you like some lunch?”
“No. Carlos’ assistant ordered lunch for us.”
“Okay.”
“I don’t want to see anyone for the rest of the day,” Ms. Mason says before she goes to unlock her office and leave Ariana to her work.
Ariana doesn’t answer just turns back to her computer and pretends to be engrossed in the contract she should be typing up. It’s the first time her boss called her Ana instead of her full name or Miss Campbell, but she doesn’t want to read anything into it. Ms. Mason was probably just distracted and by tomorrow she’ll be back to the usual formality and cool indifference. Still, Ariana can’t stop smiling and feeling like they took another small step towards building a nice, friendly working relationship even if not an actual friendship.
At four, she runs out for coffee, knowing that Ms. Mason is too busy to keep track of time or her personal needs. She asks for two slices of sugar-free carrot cake to go with the grande Americano Ms. Mason prefers in the afternoon, and hopes her boss will appreciate the small gesture, at least a little bit.
Ms. Mason’s reaction is a surprised smile she can’t hide before Ariana notices it, and the sight of it alone makes Ariana light headed, because Ms. Mason is even more beautiful when she smiles than usually. And, sure, Ariana has seen her smile, hell even grin, in her dreams, but they can’t measure up to the real thing. Because the late afternoon sunlight just falls perfectly to turn Ms. Mason’s dark caramel colored eyes into pure gold and her full lips even shinier, and Ariana know she’s blatantly staring, but she can’t take her eyes off Ms. Mason’s breathtakingly gorgeous face.
“You wanted something?” Ms. Mason asks, raising an eyebrow and pulling Ariana back to the present.
“Ah, no, sorry.”
“Alright. Then you can go home.”
“Are you sure?” she asked uncertainly. It wasn’t unheard of that Ms. Mason sent her home early when she planned to stay late, it couldn’t be the case today because Thompson said he would pick her up.
“Yes. I set an alarm to remind me when I have to leave for Beatrice’s salon.”
“But what about Mr. Thompson?”
Ms. Mason’s face closes off and she glares at Ariana. “You ask too many questions.”
“Yeah, side-effect of my job,” she snipes back before she can control her sassiness. “Sorry,” she mumbles when she sees Ms. Mason’s unimpressed face.
“Just go.”
And Ariana goes. She keeps berating herself for her stupid big mouth all the way to home, silently praying to whoever is up there to let her not lose her job for back-talking to her boss. She had seen Ms. Mason fire someone for much less, and she actually loves her job even though it wasn’t what she imagined herself to do when she got her shiny new degree in Political Science two years ago. Actually, applying to Wouldridge & Mason was a last resort when she realized she had no chance of actually getting a job in her field unless she found some actually existing political connections or sucked the right people’s dicks like a champ.
She doesn’t know what Ms. Mason could have seen in her that made her hire her instead of one of the eager little computer geniuses who were all starry-eyed and drooling while they were waiting to be interviewed. She still can’t help but laugh every time when she remembers walking into Ms. Mason’s office and handing over her resume with utmost certainty that she wouldn’t be hired. She complimented Ms. Mason on her soft cream colored dress and asked where she got her lipstick, which caught Ms. Mason off guard.
But apparently, the fact that Ariana did not start fawning over Ms. Mason’s awesomeness and accomplishments also made an impression which earned her a well-paying job at widely respected and constantly progressing company. She might not be the government’s political correspondent like she wanted to be, but she can afford a nice studio apartment in Brooklyn, doesn’t have to worry about paying her bills, and her boss, while mostly neurotic and demanding, is a great, inspiring woman who’s also drop dead gorgeous.
And literally a genius. And really sweet when no one sees her. And has an amazing body. And the smoothest skin and shiniest hair Ariana has ever seen. And the most beautiful eyes. So okay, she might be a little bit gone on her boss, but it’s not like she has a chance, and who can blame her for kind of falling head over heels for Sophie Mason, when the woman is perfection personified? Everyone is a little bit in love with her at the office despite being terrified of her. She’s just that great.
Ariana sighs as she unlocks her front door, kicking off her heels the moment she’s in the apartment. Her feet and knees hurt, but she’s mostly used to the dull throbbing by now. It’s nothing a long soak in the tub can’t help. She hangs her blazer on a hanger and puts it back in her closet, making sure to place it in the ‘waiting for dry cleaning’ side. She walks into her bathroom, turning on the water to fill the tub while she slowly undresses and dragging a comb through her short hair a couple of times to get the worst of the hair products she put in it in the morning out.