Perfect Boyfriend For The Savage Lady

It was another Monday morning. While almost all the working population of the world hated Mondays, fortunately she was among the few percent who loved it.

She raised her head as she stepped out of her car, a red 2016 BMW 2 series. Even in the lobby of the building where she worked, the employees already had their heads down, acknowledging her presence. In her office, she was highly respected and envied.

Through the glass doors of the office, she could see everyone chitchatting inside the premises. But the moment she badged in, they became alert and returned to their respective cubicles. She was aware that they were a bit afraid of her, not intentionally, but because she was strict with her rules and regulations in the office. Also, she wasn't one to engage in small talk or laughter, which led them to interpret her as unfriendly. She realized it was probably for the best to maintain discipline and professionalism among her staff.

"Good morning Miss Vee," greeted her most reliable personal assistant, Candy. Candy was a year older, a former beauty queen of her region. Despite being a single mom, she handled her job efficiently. She was with her almost 16 hours a day, but even Candy kept a bit of distance.

She nodded to acknowledge the woman.

Candy followed her into her office to provide her with the schedule for the day. After that, she noticed Candy hesitated a bit before mentioning her first appointment for the day.

"Ah... Miss Vee..."

"Yes?"

"Your first appointment is Amanda Richards, the wife of an important client. She didn't come here for business though. She just wants to talk to you."

Amanda Richards. She raised an eyebrow. Yeah right. Amanda Richards, she remembered her. A former classmate.

"Did she schedule an appointment?" she asked, skeptical. Because that woman was not the type to go through the proper channels. She knew exactly the kind of person she was.

"Yeah. Three weeks ago, her husband called asking for a little time with you. Since he's a VIP, he was accommodated."

She let out a sigh.

"Fine, let her in."

A few minutes later, Amanda Richards came in. She deliberately ignored her and kept her eyes on her computer monitor.

"Same old you, Vee," she said in the most pretentious manner. She felt like covering her ears. Well, to get this over with, she looked at her.

"Have a seat," she said curtly, raising an eyebrow.

The woman exuded wealth in her signature outfit. Amanda was wearing a red dress, Prada shoes, and a collector's edition Louis Vuitton bag. A typical former school cheerleader, campus queen image. The heck.

She didn't sit down. Instead, she roamed around her spacious office, examining the plaques of recognition hanging on the walls.

"Not bad for a school nerd who always had her nose in books. It paid off really well for you, Vee," she commented.

"I'm not a school nerd. I'm just out of your league. I don't open my legs for a living. What do you want from me, Amanda?"

Her smile was infuriatingly fake. She really couldn't stand being in the same room with this woman without feeling suffocated.

"You really haven't changed a bit. You're still anti-social. I was actually expecting you to kick me out right away, and I wasn't wrong."

"Well, since you know, why did you even come here? You even used your husband's connections just to talk to me."

"You still don't have friends, do you? Your personality hasn't improved, has it? Even your employees look scared of you. Roar!" she teased.

She had enough. "Do you want me to have security escort you out? I won't freakin' care if you're a VIP's wife. I can have another client in a minute!"

Amanda was left speechless. Even with her glasses on, her sharp gaze could pierce through.

"Ok. I'll tell you why I'm here. It's about the school reunion next month. The org just wants to remind you that it's strictly prohibited to be absent. I know you're not fond of parties. You'd probably prefer to refuse the school than---"

"I'll attend."

Amanda was taken aback. It seemed she didn't expect that answer. The invitation was obviously just a façade.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"I said what I said."

Amanda nodded hesitantly, clearly still in disbelief. She chuckled. It felt good to put people like her in their place.

But she had her comeback. "Are you aware that most of our batch mates have partners? Most of them are married to loaded guys. For sure they'll be flaunting their partners. Are you up for the challenge, Ms. Frosty Ice Queen?"

Her head was pounding from this conversation about trivial matters. So what if she didn't have a partner? She didn't need one. She was a self-made woman after all. She didn't need a man to rise in life.

She scrutinized Amanda, the kind who climbed up in life through seduction. Married an older foreigner almost double her age. Just for instant gratification of luxuries and cosmetic surgeries.

"You didn't answer that. Are you backing out?" she said with a laugh. "Well, I understand. You don't have a boyfriend to show off. We're all expecting you to become an old maid---"

"I have a boyfriend," she cut her off. She stared at her with intent.

A more extreme surprise crossed Amanda's retouched face. "Liar."

She felt insulted. She felt like her dignity was being trampled upon. What did this woman think of her, that she had some sort of contagious disease that repelled men?

Amanda bit her lip. "Oops...sorry, no offense meant, Vee. Hmm, I guess I understand. You really don't have to lie."

More fakery.

"So, you'll bring him to the party, right?"

She tapped her foot impatiently under the desk. This woman was really testing her patience.

"We wanted our relationship to remain private, so I can't bring him there."

"Why not?" she laughed. "Oh my God, Vee. Don't tell me you've become desperate because no one's courting you, so you settled for a nobody. Is he ugly? Poor?"

"You're pissing me off!" she raised her voice. "Of course he's not. He's rich, he's good looking. And even if you combine the husbands of all the members of your cheerleading squad, you still won't match him. You understand? Don't compare yourself to me, Amanda. Because no matter how hard you try, you will never beat me in any field. I'm smarter than you, more successful. And even if you get your face retouched a dozen times, know that I'm still more beautiful than you!"

Now it was Amanda's turn to get irritated. She felt smoke coming out of the woman's ears in anger. Her eyebrows shot up, her face turning red from frustration. She had reopened an old wound, she thought.

"You'll regret everything you just said. You want war, frosty queen? I'll give it to you. I'll make sure to tell everyone that your so-called boyfriend is coming, and make sure he lives up to their expectations, because I assure you, you will be embarrassed."

"War is on. Bring some tissues, okay? Because just like in college, your eyeliners and mascara might run from crying because you'll be the one losing again."

She left her room fuming.