Heather

"Check this out dudes and dudettes, the view here is insane!" Geoff exclaims, standing in front of the ceiling to wall windows in my apartment living room and then taking his phone out to snap a picture.

A smile creeps up my lips. The view is pretty amazing.

"Heather?"

I turn around to see Lindsay walking over to me with her phone in her hand. "Um, how do I connect my phone to the speakers? I want to play music."

I roll my eyes. "Here, I'll do it. What music did you have in mind?"

"Taylor Swift," Lindsay replies.

"Good choice," I say as I connect Lindsay's phone to the speakers in my living room. I open the Spotify app and then press play on the Reputation album.

"Woo! Let's get this party started!" Geoff cheers. "A toast to Heather and her new penthouse apartment!" he adds, raising his glass of beer in the air.

"To Heather!" Courtney says, as others in the room cheer.

"Thanks Geoff and Court," I smile, taking a sip of my champagne.

As everyone scatters around in the living room, I make my way over to the couch and sit next to Courtney.

"So, I've decided that I'm going to talk to Chris about my promotion on Monday," I say. "I've got nothing to lose."

"Go for it, Heath," Courtney replies. "I support you. Chris is psycho and we need to take charge of our own careers."

"Yes," I agree. "We work hard to smash that glass ceiling."

"Exactly," Courtney echoes. "And if anyone's deserving of a promotion, it's you."

"Thanks bestie," I smile.

"Of course!"

We continue chatting until about 8:45 pm, when there's a sudden loud knock on the door. "I'll get it," I say as I place my champagne glass down on the coffee table and head toward the door.

I open the door to see the Ale-whatever guy from next door standing there, wearing some silky deep red pyjama shirt and pants. Okay, that's some fancy shit right there.

"What do you want?" I cut straight to the chase, not bothering with a greeting. He better not be trying to drag me into another one of his pretend girlfriend or fiancé schemes.

"Señorita, do you mind turning the volume down, por favor? You're interrupting my bedtime," he says, his voice somehow both calm and exasperated at the same time.

I look at him and raise a brow. "Seriously? It's not even that late."

"Well, my body is my temple, so sí, I do value my ten hours of sleep where possible," he states.

I can't help the snort that escapes from my mouth. "Your body is your temple? That is literally the lamest line I've ever heard."

"How else do you think I maintain a body like this?" he says in a velvety voice, pointing to himself.

Ew. This guy seriously needs some humbling down.

I roll my eyes. "Whatever. Anyway, we're having a party here so I guess you're just going to have to find a way to deal with it."

An annoyed expression crosses his face. "Dios, some of us are seriously trying to sleep."

"And some of us are trying to enjoy a party, so I guess one of us is going to have to compromise," I say, whilst faking a sugary sweet smile.

"Tell me, are you always this inconsiderate?" he scowls.

My mouth nearly drops. How dare he call me inconsiderate?! The audacity of that jerk!

"And are you always such a jerk?" I retort as I glare at him.

He sighs and throws his hands up in the air. In doing so, I catch a brief glimpse of his muscular arms through his pyjama shirt sleeves and then internally curse myself for staring there.

Nope, we're not falling victim to his 'my body is my temple' bullshit.

"Señorita, can we please just have a civil conversation?"

"Stop calling me señorita," I firmly say as I fold my arms.

He lets out another sigh. "Chica, can you please just—"

As soon as I hear the word 'chica' come from his mouth, I immediately reach for the door handle.

"Hey, hey, don't shut the door, we're not done here—" he frantically says as his emerald green eyes dart around.

Too late. He doesn't get to finish his sentence because I promptly shut the door in his face. Ha. Bye jerk.

I hear some more knocking on the door but I simply stand there with my arms folded, pretending that I don't hear it.

A few moments later, the knocking stops and I cautiously open my apartment door again a little, only to see Alejerkdro still there standing there, although he's now staring at a different direction.

As if on cue, Jerkface jerks his head around and I freeze. "Hey—" he begins.

"—Nope," I quickly interject before immediately slamming the door again.

"Who was that?" Geoff suddenly asks from inside.

"Oh, no one important," I reply as I dust my hands against my skirt.

"Hey guys, a little announcement," I then call out to everyone in the room. "All the food and drinks tonight are on me, so feel free to order more and please enjoy!"

There's some loud cheering in the room.

"Also, let's turn up the music a little, shall we?" I continue. "Make this the party of the year!"

"Woo! All hail Queen Heather!" Geoff cheers.

"Heather? Are you okay?" Duncan walks up to me, a stunned look on his face.

I scowl. "What? Is it that hard to believe that I can be a generous person too?"

"Technically, yes," he states.

"Then no free food or drinks for you," I say, folding my arms. "Boo hoo, partypooper."

Duncan rolls his eyes and walks off. "Whatever."

"Hey, that's my phrase!" I call out. Ugh. Annoying Duncan and his mohawk. I don't even get how Court stands him.

I make my way back next to Courtney and we continue to chat. After another ten minutes, there's another knock on the door. I exhale sharply. Ugh. Not again.

I march straight to the door and open it. "I have nothing else to say to you so you can take your fancy pyjamas and crawl back to—" I begin and then promptly stop when I realize who's actually standing there.

It's the security guard from the apartment complex lobby.

I let out a nervous laugh. "Uh, sorry Sir, I wasn't talking to you."

"Ma'am, we've received a noise complaint from one of your neighbors. I'm afraid you'll have to call it a night," he says.

That jerk! I can't believe he actually called security!

"Alright, no worries, Sir," I reply. The officer acknowledges me with a nod and then leaves.

I shut the door and turn back around to face everyone. "Alright guys, party's over," I announce. "Security was just here. You should all go."

There are some groans and sighs in the room.

"Does that mean you're still paying if we order more food?" Lindsay innocently asks.

I roll my eyes. "I don't know Lindsay, read the room. There isn't exactly a party anymore, is there?"

Lindsay frowns. "Oh."

"Well, it was good while it lasted," Geoff sighs. "See ya around, Heather."

"Thanks for hosting," Bridgette adds.

"See you at work on Monday," Courtney says as she pulls me into a hug.

Once all the guests leave, I immediately open my emails until I find the document I'm looking for—the strata bylaws. Scanning through the document, my eyes widen when I read the sentence that confirms my suspicions. I knew it! Oh, that jerk is so going down.

The next moment, I storm outside and make a beeline toward Alejerkdro's apartment, before knocking—no, pounding—on his door. It takes about five knocks before he finally opens up.

"Can I help you?" he says, a smirk on his face.

"You called security," I hiss, glaring at him.

"And I see they've done their job," he smirks. "I'm sorry about your party," he adds in a sarcastic tone.

I scoff. "You're not fooling me. I checked the strata bylaws and the rule is no loud music after 10 pm. It was only a little before 9 when security came over," I say, folding my arms. "So did you bribe him?"

He immediately scowls, an offended expression plastered across his face. "Of course not. What kind of person do you think I am?"

"So how did you—" I begin and then realization hits me. "Oh I know. You probably flirted with Hannah, that girl from concierge and asked her to call security," I say, rolling my eyes.

Surprise taints his emerald green eyes and he opens his mouth but no words come out.

Ha, caught red-handed.

"This isn't over, jerk," I tell him. "Mess with me, and it's war."

"Your threats don't scare me, chica," he smirks, before leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms.

His posture causes me to once again notice his muscular arms and I immediately drift my gaze elsewhere.

Don't look at his arms. Don't look into his eyes either.

Abort. Retreat. He might have won the battle, but you'll win the war.

"Screw you, Alejandro," I hiss, before walking off.

"Gracias, goodnight to you too," he sarcastically says from behind.

"Jerkface," I mutter under my breath as I step back inside my apartment.

***

I walk inside one of the large meeting rooms at TD Consulting's office on Monday morning and take my seat next to Courtney.

"Morning Court," I say, stifling a yawn.

"Hey Heath," Courtney replies. "Ready for another week of torture?"

"You bet," I sarcastically say. "But if we can get through Monday morning, we can get through the week."

As if on cue, our Managing Director and boss Chris McLean walks to the front of the room, wearing a teal colored business shirt. I've been working here for almost two years now, and I don't think I've ever seen him wear anything else.

Chris opens his mouth and I instantly resist the urge to let out a loud groan.

Here we go again.

"At TD Consulting, we put our clients at the heart and center of everything we do. Our values are innovation, collaboration, impact and accountability...We are team...TD Consulting!"

I block out the majority of words in Chris's speech as he continues to ramble on for about five minutes, whilst waving his hands in a dramatic up and down motion.

Every Monday morning, Chris forces the entire company to listen to what he calls the 'McLean Monday Motivation'. It's the exact same speech, same words every single damn time. There's a theory around the office that Chris is secretly psycho which definitely makes sense. Anyway, the only person Chris is scared of is the CEO of TD Consulting Inc, Mr Hatchet. No one knows what his first name is and he barely shows his face anyway so for the most part Chris just walks around acting as if he were the CEO instead.

I glance around at the bored-looking faces of the employees in the room. Everyone looks like they'd rather be watching paint dry. Well, all except for one person.

"Woo! Go TD Consulting!" Sierra from HR cheers.

"Oh my god, I'm feeling soooo motivated," Noah from IT then sarcastically adds.

"Fantastic, Noah!" Chris exclaims with a smirk on his face. "In that case, since the janitor called in sick today, you can help sweep the floor."

Noah immediately lets out a groan and mutters something incomprehensible under his breath.

I roll my eyes. He should have just kept his mouth shut.

"Oh, that backfired buddy," Owen—I can't remember which department he's from because all he does is sit around and fart all day—laughs as he gives Noah a pat on the back.

"Alright, back to work people!" Chris then barks. "We have KPI's and targets to meet. And if we don't meet them, who does it reflect badly on? That's right, me," he adds whilst pointing to himself.

I roll my eyes again as I stand up from my seat. Courtney catches my gaze and I pull a face. She lets out a giggle and we begin to head toward the meeting room exit.

"Interns!" I hear Chris shriek in the background. "Where's my morning coffee?"

Two college interns who look like they've just sprinted a marathon and then been tossed into a pool of piranhas walk up to Chris. "Here you go, Sir," one of them nervously mutters, sweat dripping down his forehead as he hands Chris a coffee cup. I remember when they first started; they were eager, fresh-faced interns. Now it looks like they've just gone through a zombie apocalypse and aged ten years. Well, I guess it's true that once you get sucked into Chris's evil vortex of psycho, there was no cure. I kind of feel sorry for them, but at the same time, I also don't. Sucks to be them.

"That's disgusting!" I hear Chris yell from behind.

"Poor interns," Courtney says, as we walk together to our desks. Thankfully, mine and Courtney's desk spaces were right next to each other's, which made ranting to each other about work much easier.

"I'm just glad we were hired here as grads and never went through the internship program," I tell her.

"Yeah," Courtney mutters. "So any plans for this weekend?"

"Court, it's only Monday," I laugh. "But not much, I guess. Probably just chilling at home with Bruiser and then maybe a bit of shopping. You?"

"That sounds like the ideal weekend," Courtney replies as we reach our desks. "I'm probably going to be staying over at Duncan's place."

"Nice," I say, turning on my computer and typing in my password.

We get to work in silence. I check my emails and then take out my planner which has the list of tasks I need to get done today.

Thirty minutes later, Chris stops by my desk, a smirk on his face. "Heather, I'd like to speak to you in my office. Don't worry; you're not in trouble. Or are you? Guess you're just going to have to find out yourself, ha ha."

I roll my eyes as I reach for my notebook. If it weren't for the fact that this job was high-paying and TD Consulting was a prestigious firm, I definitely would have jumped ship long ago.

"You've got this," Courtney whispers.

"Thanks Court," I give her a smile.

With my notebook in hand, I stand up and follow Chris inside his office.

"Have a seat," Chris says, gesturing to the plush velvet chair in front of his desk.

I prop myself down on the chair and cross my legs, before taking a deep breath. "Actually, Chris, there was something I wanted to talk to you about too."

"Really?" Chris smirks as he sits down in his seat and takes a sip of his coffee. "Okay, you can go first."

"So, as you know, I've been working at TD Consulting since I graduated from business school," I begin. "My client and performance reviews have all been very positive and I think I'm ready to take the next step in my career, in a more managerial role. On top of that, you've also hinted at my promotion quite a few times in the past several weeks."

There's a slight pause. "That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about today," Chris then says.

My ears perk up. "Really?"

"Yes," he says, letting out a shrill laugh. "There's someone I'd like you to meet," he then smirks, before turning his head to his door. "Come on in!"

I stare at him blankly. This better not be some kind of joke.

Turning my head to his door, I immediately freeze at the sight of the tall, dark-haired man who's walking inside Chris's office, his steps steady, assertive and confident.

He seems to be caught off guard for a brief moment when he sees me, before a glimmer of amusement shines in his emerald green eyes and his lips tug into a tiny smirk.

This seriously can't be happening right now.

"Hola, chica."

I think I'm going to faint.