THE BOSS' MISTRESS

ANNA SAT IN THE sleek, modern waiting area, her fingers lightly tapping against the edge of the chair, her legs crossed neatly. The room smelled faintly of polished wood and coffee, a subtle reminder of corporate efficiency. She kept her posture straight, reminding herself to stay composed, even as her mind raced. The interview was important-this could change everything-and she forced herself to focus. Each tick of the clock on the wall seemed to stretch time, but she remained calm, almost serene, letting the anxiety simmer beneath the surface rather than letting it show. She observed the other candidates, all busy adjusting ties, clearing their throats, checking phones. Anna didn't need to perform any of that. She had prepared, she had memorized strategies, marketing approaches, and even the company's recent campaigns. All that was left was patience. Minutes passed, and then the door to the boardroom opened, and a few executives stepped in. Anna's attention was immediately captured, and her breath caught-because there, at the center of the board, sat Blake. Blake, with that same magnetic presence that had consumed her the previous night.He looked... normal. Professional. Like he was simply another board member conducting business. No trace of the wild, electric night they had shared lingered on his expression. He didn't smirk, he didn't glance her way with a hint of recognition. He was entirely unreadable. Anna's heart skipped a beat, and a slow realization dawned on her. He was the one behind this. He'd arranged for her to be interviewed again. All the connections, the push she hadn't understood before-it made sense now. And yet, the calm, collected look he maintained made it impossible to guess what he was thinking. It was as if the previous night-the intoxication, the closeness, the heat-they had shared never happened at all. She sat even straighter, smoothing her skirt and adjusting her notebook on her lap. She would not falter. She would not give him-or anyone-an indication of the storm that surged within her. She was just another candidate waiting her turn, patient, composed, and determined. Her pulse, though, betrayed her. Every so often, her eyes flicked toward him discreetly, catching his profile, his posture, the way he tapped a pen against the table absentmindedly. The contrast between the man in front of her and the man from last night was jarring, and yet, oddly thrilling. She reminded herself to breathe, to wait, to be patient. Soon, it would be her turn to step into that boardroom-and she would walk in not as a woman marked by desire or surprise, but as a professional ready to claim her place. Soon her name was called into the room. Be calm Anna you've prepared for this " Miss Jenkins, why should we hire you over the ten other applicants who have more experience in wine marketing than you?" Anna took a deep breath, preparing herself once again for the battle ahead. " Because experience means little without innovation. I understand the traditional market, but I also understand how to capture modern consumers through digital story telling and data- driven campaigns". There was a nod among the boards before another member spoke. "Interesting. How would you reposition a poorly performing red wine brand that hasn't sold in the past six months?" " Firstly, I'd study the target market; their taste preference, age range and where they spend their time. Then I'd redesign the label for better shelf appeal, use influence marketing platforms and launch limited time offers with user generated content campaigns " "What's the most important element in advertising a luxury wine product?" The only woman in the board asked. Till now, Blake had barely spoken a word , he just sat, watching her. " Emotions. You're not selling grapes. You're selling celebration, exclusivity, and taste. The imagery, language and even background music must reflect that." " And if a budget cut slashes 40 percentage of your marketing spend?" Mr Kingsley asked leaning towards her. " I'd double down on high RO platforms. Cut traditional ads, push SEO, email campaigns, retargeting, and brand partnerships. Quality over quantity." "She's not here to play " the woman whispered to Kingsley. They were both taking in low tunes until Blake cleared his throat. " What's our biggest weakness?" Blake asked, his gaze boring deep in Anna. This wasn't about an interview alone. He was scaling how smart she is. "Your digital presence. Your website is outdated, SEO is weak, and you're barely engaging social platforms. In this era, a premium wine should have premium visibility. " You seem confident. What makes you think you can survive the pressure here?" Blake asked. " I've survived worse than pressure. I thrive on challenge, and I don't fold. Give me a chance and I'll prove that no one will sell Valencia better than I will." " Interesting" Mr Kingsley said as e eyed her, intrigued. Blake wasn't done yet. " You talk a good game, but this is a male dominated boardroom. What makes you think we'll listen to you ?" "You don't have to listen to me. Just watch the numbers after I'm hired" Anna replied calmly but firmly. " And what if we don't hire you? " Blake asked rising to his feet. Everyone from the boardroom rose along with him. " Then you'll hire someone safer and in six months, you'll still be having this same meeting, wondering why your numbers haven't moved. There was silence as Blake stepped away, moving to the door. " I want you here tomorrow by 5." He said and walked out of the room. Yes Anna couldn't hide her joy more better. She did it! Finally she's going to get the best medical attention for her brother. Anna stepped out of the boardroom with her heart still pounding-not from the questions, not from Blake's unreadable stare-but from the weight that had been sitting on her chest since morning. She didn't even wait to reach the lobby. Her hands trembled as she dug out her phone, scrolling immediately to the name she had called too many times in her life. She pressed call. It rang once. Twice. And then his soft, familiar inhale came through the speaker. "Anna?" Her breath broke a little. "Hey, sweetheart... how are you feeling?" There was a long silence-too long. She knew that silence; it meant he was overwhelmed, trying to gather words that didn't want to line up for him. "I didn't like when you left ," he finally whispered. "Everything felt... wrong." Anna closed her eyes, her throat tightening. "I'm so sorry, Jay. I didn't want to leave you. I just... I had to go for the interview." "You didn't say bye." A tremor in his voice-so small, but it stabbed straight into her. "I know," she breathed. "I know. I rushed. I should have said it. I should have looked at you before I left. I'm so sorry that I didn't." On the other end, she heard the faint clicking noise-his fingers tapping his wristband, the one he used when he was anxious. "Did they shout at you?" he asked suddenly. "People always shout during interviews." She swallowed a shaky laugh. "They asked very hard questions, but I answered them. I think... I think I did okay." "You did good," he said immediately, with absolute certainty. "You're always good when you try." That undid her. Her eyes blurred. "Thank you," she whispered. "Are you coming now?" Hope. Fear. Need. "I am," she said softly. "I'm leaving here soon. I just wanted to hear your voice first." Another pause. "Anna... I was scared today." Her breath hitched. "Why?" "Because the nurse closed the curtain and the lights felt different. I don't like when things change." A small, shaking inhale. "And I couldn't ask for you because I knew you were busy." Her free hand pressed against her heart. "Oh, Jay... you can always ask for me. Busy or not. I'll come." She heard the quiet rustle of him nodding. Then, in his small, honest voice: "I want you to come now. Please." A tear slipped down her cheek. "I'm already on my way." "Okay..." His voice softened, fragile but calmer now. "I'll wait. I'll count the ceiling dots so time goes faster." She smiled through the ache. "You do that, sweetheart. I'll be there soon." "Okay... bye, Anna." "Bye, my love." The call ended, and Anna stood there for a moment, letting the weight of everything settle-her brother's fear, her exhaustion, the interview, Blake's cold eyes pretending nothing had happened. Then she wiped her face, straightened her shoulders, and walked toward the exit-because Jay was waiting, and he always came first.