CLAMPED WITH ME FOREVER

Emily's POV

My heart pounding, I stood outside Blackwood Enterprises' tall glass construction. As Julian Blackwood's secretary, it was my first day and the weight of that title seemed both exciting and terrible. The light glinted off the skyscraper's sleek skin, evidence of the riches and force latent inside. Though I haCHAPTER ONE:

The New Secretaryd always dreamed of working somewhere like this, now that I was here I felt little and unimportant.

I inhaled deeply, straightening my top and tweaking my skirt. Having picked my clothes deliberately, I wanted to exude professionalism while yet feeling a little self-conscious. Unlike the blazing heat outside, the cool air conditioning assaulted me as I passed through the spinning doors.

"Welcome to Blackwood Enterprises," a receptionist said with a brilliant smile. You really have to be Emily Wilson. Mr. Blackwood is here expecting you.

"Thanks," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. With my heels clicking on the floor, I trailed her along a long corridor decorated with contemporary art and soft rugs. Every stride felt like a reminder of how far I had come from my small-town background, when aspirations sometimes felt like far-off illusions.

The receptionist stopped as we came across a set of double doors. Just a warning: Mr. Blackwood may be really strong. Still, he is an outstanding manager. You'll be alright.

"Intense," I said, swallowing fiercely. Whispers of Julian Blackwood's brilliance in the boardroom and might to be reckoned with had reached me. I had also heard, though, he was merciless and a man who forbade errors.

"Good luck!" she exclaimed, then turned aside to let me pass into the lion's lair.

The scene before me gasped me when I pushed open the doors. The office was large and had floor to ceiling windows providing an amazing perspective of the city skyline. Julian Blackwood spoke on the phone from behind a sleek mahogany desk, his back to me low and strong.

"...I have no interest in the fallout. Get it done, he said, his tone free of debate. At the power in his voice, I shivered along my spine.

I felt his presence as he at last turned around. Julian was tall, his dark hair framing his sharp face. I felt underdressed and unworthy as his sharp blue eyes seemed to look straight ahead.

"Ms. Wilson," he continued, his voice silky but strong. "You're late."

I stammered and looked at the wall clock. I assumed I arrived on schedule. I mean, I apologize for dragging you around waiting.

He arched an eyebrow, his look incomprehensible. "Time in this company is money. You ought to be on time.

Indeed, of course, I said, trying myself to meet his stare. "I'll see to it it never happens once more."

Good. Sit, he insisted, pointing to a chair across from him. I sat fast, attempting to calm the anxiety building in my gut.

I looked about the office as I settled down, appreciating the opulent décor and striking collection of accolades on display. I had only seen this in movies; now, at least temporarily, I was a part of this planet.

Julian remarked, "Let's review your responsibilities," pulling out a binder and sliding it over the desk. "You will handle letters, schedule my calendar, and help with other initiatives. I look for prudence and efficiency.

Of course, I said, my voice now more steady. I won't let you down.

He nodded, his visage relaxing just a little fraction. Not is what I hope not. I am not patient with ineptitude.

I discovered myself engrossed in the rhythm of the office as the morning drew on. I filed papers, made calls, and even kept up with Julian's rigorous pace. Though he was unrelenting, his passion caught me in and had a certain appeal.

" Emily," he said, cutting off my ideas. "Can you bring me the last week's meeting's report?"

"Sure, I'll get it right away," I answered, fast getting to my feet and for the filing cabinet. I could feel Julian staring at me as I sieved through the documents, a strange mix of inquiry and inspection.

"Are you always this organised?" he questioned, seeming slightly amused.

Turning to face him, I said, "I try to be." "I think everything should be kept orderly."

Good. I admire this quality in my staff, he remarked, reclining in his chair. "Most people not see the value of details."

His comment made me smile and gave me a flutter of confidence. "Thanks, Mr. Blackwood."

"Call me Julian," he responded, his voice softening somewhat. "We will be working closely here."

"Okay, Julian," I said, tongue-based testing the name. Dealing with him so casually was unusual yet exciting.

As I relaxed into my position, I started to observe the little things about Julian the way he wrinkled his brow when deep in thought, the tiny twitch of his lips when he was delighted, and the intensity in his eyes when he was concentrated.

But around him, there also was a loneliness. Even with his authority, I sensed an emptiness under the surface-a yearning for something more than success.

Five on the clock started me to assemble my belongings. Feeling a bit let down by the idea of leaving, I said, "I'll see you tomorrow, Julian."

"Wait," he whispered, stopping me squarely in my tracks. "I want you to remain a bit longer. I want to talk about something.

Turning around to meet him, my heart surged. Of course, What is your need?

With a sobering tone, he said, "I have a business dinner tonight and I need you to help me prepare." You will be joining me.

" Me? I objected, feeling undeserving of such an invitation, saying only your secretary.

"Exactly. I need someone who can manage themselves in a high-stakes situation, he said, staring straight ahead. "You will be good."

I stopped, not sure of myself. "Okay; I'll try my best."

"Good," Meet me here at seven, he said, his voice devoid of space for debate.

That evening as I left the office, ideas for the supper flew through my head. Could I keep up with the elite gathering? If I embarrassed myself? Still, there was a part of me that was thrilled-this was an opportunity to challenge myself outside of my comfort level. Later that evening, I stood before my mirror straightening my dress and correcting my hair. I had decided on a basic yet sophisticated wardrobe in an effort to find the ideal mix between business and approachability. Applying some eyeliner, I couldn't get rid of the anxiety that started in my gut.

The lights were dark when I got back to the workplace, and the air seemed filled with expectancy. Julian arrived early, looking perfectly in a fitted suit that highlighted his broad shoulders. As I absorbed his powerful presence, my breath seized in my throat.

"You look nice," he remarked, his eyes darting over me with a force that had my heart pounding.

"Thank you," I said, flushing over my cheeks. "Ready to go"?

"Let's get this over with," he replied, a little smile flickering on his lips. And keep in mind that simply be yourself.

We were clearly tense as we entered the elevator. His stare seemed weighty, and for the first time I questioned whether Julian Blackwood was more than simply the merciless CEO everyone discussed. From the Restaurant

Comprising the city's elite, the restaurant was an elegant venue. Heads turned and whispers trailed after us as we arrived. Anxiety and thrill washed over me in mixed doses.

Julian said, "Stay close," his voice low as he led me through the throng. And don't let intimidation scare you. You fit right here.

As we walked to a table full of known people, I nodded and tried to absorb his comments. I became proud of myself when Julian brought me to know his colleagues. I belonged to something more than simply a shy secretary now.

I had talks throughout the evening and surprised myself with how effectively I kept my own. Julian observed me intently, a contented look on his face as I gently negotiated the conversations.

But as the evening drew on, I observed a woman seated at the table across from us. She was striking, confident and with long dark hair. I knew her right away-Alexandra Petrova, a competitor entrepreneur with a reputation for guile.

"Julian," she whispered, leaning forward and her voice full of appeal. "I didn't expected to see you here with such... company."

"Alexandra," he said coldly, his face ins unreadable. "What a surprising statement."

She looked at me, her smile piercing, and I felt a cold go down my spine. And whose might this be? Your upcoming small project?

" Emily Wilson," I said, trying not to lose control. Julian's secretary is "Julian."

"Ah, the secretary," she answered, trying to seem interest. "How pleasant"

Julian's jaw tightened, and I felt the strain in the air. "Alexandra, Emily is not just a secretary. She benefits my team greatly.

"Is that so?" she asked, mischief glistening in her eyes. "Well, dear, you should be ready for the difficulties that accompany it."

Though I felt a flood of anxiety come over me, I resisted allowing her comments to define me. I set out to prove myself to Julian as well as to the surroundings.

The dynamics changed as the evening went on. Julian's protective quality surfaced, and I came to see that under his gruff façade was a man truly loving people he trusted.

But the sensation that this was only the start of something far more complex persisted in me as we exited the restaurant. The shadows of authority hovered over us, and I realized negotiating this planet would provide difficulties.

"Are you alright?" Julian asked as we entered the chilly evening air. Around Alexandra, you seemed a little uptight.

"I'm good," I said, feigning a grin. "Just trying to keep up."

He glanced at me briefly, his face softening. You performed quite nicely tonight. Let her threaten you no more. You are more robust than you could possibly imagine.

"Thank you, Julian," I responded, a warmth filling me at his remarks.

I was wondering what lay ahead for us as we traveled back to the workplace. Corporate finance was a merciless field, and I was only starting to realize Julian's life was complicated. One thing was evident, though I was prepared to meet whatever obstacles presented us, particularly if it meant supporting him.