Chapter 3

Charlie

Tears streamed down my face as I woke up, haunted once again by those torturous dreams that had plagued me for four long months. In those dreams, I encountered the perfect man, who provided me with unparalleled pleasure in the most extraordinary locations. But just like clockwork, it always had to end.

Perhaps it was time to consider seeing a therapist. Could my mind come up with this dominant figure to compensate for my lackluster sex life?

After my recent breakup, I had embarked on a journey of sexual exploration, discovering my submissive nature and embracing my bratty tendencies. However, none of the Dominants I had encountered thus far had truly captivated me. It felt as though everything I craved was just out of reach, mirroring the frustration in my dreams. Why was it so challenging to find someone who could manage my bratty behavior and take control? Was it too much to ask?

Lost in these melancholic ruminations, I resolved to pull myself together.

Today was the most important interview of my life, and I couldn't afford to let depression and thoughts of my sex life distract me. I needed to impress and leave a lasting impression.

It had been six long months since I graduated, and finding a job that truly valued my designs was a constant struggle. Either the interviewers didn't grasp the depth of my creations or they felt threatened by a knowledgeable woman. However, I saw Appletree Engineering and Architecture as the perfect match for my eco-friendly designs. While my fully self-sustainable home was still just a concept, I believed that once technology caught up, Appletree would be the ideal platform to make my ideas marketable.

Fully dressed in my power suit—a pencil skirt with a flared bottom, a pale pink blouse, and nude heels —I felt empowered and ready to conquer my interview. With ample time, I left for the subway with anticipation.

As I arrived at the towering skyscraper housing Appletree's headquarters, a mix of excitement and certainty flooded my being. Eagerly, I stepped into the lobby, walking with purpose toward the receptionist's desk. My posture was straight, and a genuine smile graced my lips as I introduced myself.

"Good morning. I'm Charlie Phillips, and I have a 10 am appointment with Mr. Daniel Summer."

My optimism wavered as I received a scowl from the receptionist, casting doubt on the smoothness of my appointment.

Concerned that I might have received the wrong date or time or that my classmates had played a prank on me, I inquired further.

"I highly doubt you'll be meeting with Mr. Summer. He's notoriously private, and—" She suddenly stopped speaking, her mouth hanging open. Her expression transformed into one filled with pure hostility as she narrowed her eyes and sneered at me.

"How on earth did you even manage to arrange a meeting with Mr. Summer?" Her voice was almost screechy as she examined me critically, her disdain clearly evident.

"I... I don't know. I wasn't the one who requested this interview. I was contacted by Mr. Summer's executive assistant, Ms. Michaels," I replied, puzzled by her hostile attitude.

"Take the elevator on the far right to the fiftieth floor. The secretary there will escort you to Mr. Summer's office," her tone laced with bitterness.

With a curt smile in response, I thank her. Stepping into the elevator, I took a moment to center myself, practicing deep breaths to regain my composure. My face relaxed into a confident smile as the doors opened on the fiftieth floor. Confirming that I had reached the correct destination, I stepped forward, greeted by the sight of a stunning secretary.

Thankfully, this secretary appeared more approachable than her downstairs counterpart. As I approached her desk, she wore an apologetic smile, gesturing toward a headset.

After a few minutes, she turned her attention back to me.

"Nightmare client who calls every day, expecting to speak directly to the CEO or CFO. As if they have nothing better to do, right?" She giggled. Her warm and welcoming demeanor was a refreshing change.

"I completely understand. I'm a little early for my appointment. My name is Charlie Phillips, and I have a meeting with Mr. Daniel Summer at ten," I told her, offering a friendly smile.

To my surprise, her eyes widened. "Oh, I'm sorry. When I saw the name 'Charlie' on the schedule, I assumed you were a man here for one of the assistant positions." She appeared slightly uncomfortable, removing her headset.

"I'm afraid I'll need to see some identification before I can escort you to Mr. Summer's office. It's a security protocol. Could you take it out, please? I need to verify its authenticity." she requested, an apologetic tone coloring her words.

"Not a problem," I replied, removing the ID from its plastic sleeve, and maintaining my bright smile.

"This way, please," the tall, willowy woman—whom I presumed to be Ms. Michaels—guided me through the door she had emerged from earlier. She led me down a hallway, passing by several conference rooms, until we arrived at another reception area adorned with glass cases displaying architectural models. The models, illuminated from above, covered an entire wall, captivating my attention. I yearned to examine them more closely, but my focus shifted as the graceful secretary halted abruptly as an exceptionally tall woman with sharp features emerged from behind a door.

"Ms. Michaels, this is Charlie Phillips, Mr. Summer's 10 am appointment... and this is where I leave you," the charming secretary said, smiling warmly at me.

"Thank you, um..." I realized with a tinge of embarrassment that I hadn't asked for her name.