Chapter 14: Chapter 14

KRISTIN

A package from Dija was in the office before I got there.

It was a basket, completely covered with a flower-designed wrapping foil.

I made myself comfortable, smiling as I set eyes on the package placed by Edith in the centre of the table.

The table brought back memories.

Just as the package laid on the table, so had Dija yesterday.

The thought brought a smile to my face. I am pretty sure the noticeable change in her gait before she left my office yesterday followed her home.

Still smiling, I opened the wrapped gift.

Neatly arranged within the basket were four items: a bottle of champagne, a body spray from the first samples from her company, a wristwatch, and three scented soaps packed in a box.

A small note placed on the items read:

'A LITTLE APPRECIATION FROM MY SORE PUSSY TO YOU. XOXO.'

I grinned at the note. That was what women enjoyed, isn't it? To be fucked good, used, dominated.

I put the basket aside.

A knock my attention to the door.

"Come in."

Edith walked in, smiling, and holding a pen and paper attached to a clipboard.

"Hey, Edith." She was dressed in a tight orange shirt that exposed a large part of her abdomen and a black shirt that barely got to the knee.

"Hi, Kristin." It was a pleasure to see that she was finally getting used to calling me by my first name.

"Hey, Edith," I repeated and ushered her to a chair opposite me. "Please, sit."

She pushed the clipboard to my side of the table before sitting. "I ran through the samples with the model and came up with the perfect one. On that paper are all the properties the makeup has that make me feel like it will be the best option."

I pushed the paper back to her. "Good job. Send it to Dija."

"Oh, really?" She asked, surprised. "I was hoping you will go through—"

"I don't need to. I trust your judgement. By the way, I know little to nothing about this stuff."

She exhaled. "I'm happy you are okay with it. I thought I may have to make some changes."

Just as she packed up and made to stand up, an idea struck.

"Hold up, Edith. I was thinking if we could do a little celebration for this deal we struck with Dija, just something little here in the office. Everyone deserves it. We put in all the work."

Edith's eyes twinkled like that of an excited child. "Really?!"

"Yeah, really."

"I should tell the others!" Before I could say anything else, she spun around and raced out of the office.

I scoffed in amusement. When the door banged behind her, I burst out laughing.

*. *. *. *.*

It was more than I bargained for.

When Edith came in moments later to tell me that everything was ready, I thought it was a joke.

It wasn't.

The entire workspace outside my office had been cleared and chairs were put around a large table.

There wasn't an inch of space on the table since drinks and snacks were arranged on it.

It did not come as a surprise to see that they hung balloons and celebration signs all over.

"Congrats, Kristin!!!" everyone echoed at the same time.

I smiled warmly. "That congratulations is for us all. We all did the work, remember?"

A three-step cake caught my attention.

"Where did you guys find the time for all these?" I whined, concerned that they may have spent a lot trying to make the mini-celebration a success.

"It's okay," Edith beamed in delight. "We all contributed something. Is it to your liking?"

"Of course!" I said incredulously. "This is just perfect. I love it." I scanned the faces before me. "We are not complete."

"Linda is sick."

"I think Lauren is yet to come back from the vacation."

"Rose said she has an emergency to attend to."

I listened as my staff and models gave out one excuse or the other. In the end, I smiled, "I hope they forgive us for celebrating without them."

They all chuckled.

We sat down, each person fighting to sit beside me on either side. Edith ended up taking the chair to my left while David, a photographer and dancer, sat on my right, grinning in satisfaction at the displeased model he dragged the seat with.

The drinks went around. I snatched a bottle of gin from David before he poured some into his drink.

"The alcohol can wait until everyone is ready to get off work. I need everyone sober. We don't know what may come up."

And just like that, a childish whine started from the other side of the table. It soon spread around.

I looked at them, laughing when they began to fake tears streaming down their cheeks.

"I'm damn serious," I said, chuckling. "Nobody should touch anything with high alcohol percentage. I will skin y'all alive."

"We are supposed to just sip on juice like kids?" a voice whined from the far left.

I nodded in confirmation. "Exactly, sweetie. Funny, but I actually feel like a kid! We will have a little drink competition before everyone goes home."

"Yayyyyyy!" they echoed like kids.

I work with kids; I swear, I really do. They all behaved this way with me. I was already used to seeing adults whine and stomp their feet at the slightest denial from me. It was even cuter whenever they decided to call me Daddy.

We chatted, made jokes, and laughed.

When it was time to cut the cake, someone raced with a phone and tripod stand and set the camera on a timer.

I saw him run back before I realized what was going to happen.

"You have ten seconds to prepare yourself before five pictures click!"

We arranged ourselves, some of them leaning over me from behind, while others sticking their tongues out while giving the camera thumbs up.

Laughing, I pulled the knife down, slicing the cake as the camera clicked the first.

Poses changed.

It clicked again.

For each click, they all made different crazy signs for the camera.

The last two pictures were better since they composed themselves and just smiled.

Happiness bubbled within me like boiling water. Considering the stress of the week, it was a relief to hang around people whose jobs were to entertain me, treat me like a father, and get paid for getting me money.

I sat down and watched them as they fed each other cakes from their plates, laughing like lunatics. It turned messy when Edith was fed a spoonful and some of it fell on her dress. Thinking it was intentional, she scooped up some cake and threw it at the offender.

To my delight, the game started.

I got up to join.

In the evening before everyone goes home, I will—once again—show them that I'm a better drinker than they will ever be...