Blizzard of Emotions

<<< Raya >>>

As the first snowflake settled, it whispered secrets of a winter’s tale waiting to unfold… Hold on a sec! I do a double-take! Seriously? That sounds like it was ripped straight from a bad rom-com. Or worse, it’s like someone dug up a dead poet’s notebook. This is cringe-worthy! Is our marketing team sleep-deprived? Or did they let an AI loose and that’s the best slogan it could spit out?

I step in for a closer look at the ad, studying the couple on the poster. The man is proposing, and the girl appears utterly shocked. He’s on one knee in the freezing snow, surrounded by swirling snowflakes. It’s practically a blizzard out there. Who in their right mind chooses to propose during a blizzard? Did he think getting pelted with ice-cold snowflakes was romantic somehow? I shake my head at the marketing team’s efforts.

Why does the young woman look so shocked, as if the idea of him proposing never crossed her mind? Wouldn’t they have discussed it beforehand? If a proposal blindsides someone, then they haven’t talked about it enough to get engaged.

Alright, I’ll be honest, I might be a tad jealous that she has someone proposing to her. Okay, fine, I’m green with envy! Meanwhile, here I am at 26, still flying solo. I’ve never really found that connection with someone that just felt right. Plus, I’m dedicated to my career, which doesn’t leave much room for a relationship. I’ve never had a boyfriend or even been kissed. I know, it’s pretty pathetic!

I scoff, rolling my eyes as I stroll away from the sign. I don’t need another painful reminder that I’m all alone in this life. I hustle up the mall stairs, making a beeline for my desk. It’s 7:54, and if my butt isn’t firmly planted in my seat by 8 AM sharp, my boss, Phoenix Storm, will have my head on a platter. I’ve been his trusty assistant for nearly a year now. He’s a man who never falters and is all business, no matter what. But then again, that’s to be expected from a billionaire CEO who owns malls scattered across the globe.

I arrive at my desk with a few minutes to spare. Phew! I’ll chalk that up as a win, considering how my morning kicked off. I should’ve accounted for extra driving time, especially during winter when a Colorado blizzard can sneak up on you. Growing up in Aspen, I should have known better. I forgot to check the weather app before hitting the hay - which happens more often than I’d care to admit. And then there’s sleepy me, playing tag with the snooze button one time too many. I swear, she’s got a mind of her own - absolutely hating mornings with a passion.

I sink into my chair and gather my few items before my boss summons me. Glancing at my watch - 7:59:57. In three, two, one… I wait, and right on cue, the buzzer sounds.

“Raya, my office,” the robotic voice commands through the intercom.

I swear my pet rock, Herman, who’s situated on my desk, has a better personality than my boss. It might seem strange to have a pet rock at my age, but it’s been my good luck charm since I was five. I glued green felt on the top to mimic a turtle shell and added two googly eyes. I pet the velvety surface, seeking some extra luck today.

Juggling my belongings, I step into his office. The décor is modern and cold, mirroring Mr. Robot’s personality to a T. “Good morning, sir," I greet him. It’s always satisfying to sprinkle in the ‘sir’ and delivering it with just the right amount of snark. He can’t call me out on it; it’s just subtle enough to slip under his radar. It’s my way of rebelling.

With a forced smile, I maintain a cheerful attitude. “How was your weekend?” One of these days, I’ll manage to chip away at his tough exterior and coax out the tiniest hint of a smile. But, apparently, today isn’t that day.

“Fine,” comes the curt reply from the robot.

I place his gigantic coffee in front of him. Always an XL black coffee - plain just like his personality. This man practically survives on coffee alone. Maybe since he lives and breathes work - a classic workaholic. I wonder if it’s possible to hook him up to an IV drip of pure caffeine? Mental note: Check into that. It would certainly simplify my life, not having to constantly fetch him coffee.

Typically, he has me working late at the office every single night. While he’s still buzzing from his caffeine high and eager to work, I’m exhausted. But I never complain. To be honest, I don’t have a life outside of work. So staying here beats being home alone. I’d just be sprawled out on my couch, binge-watching a show. I’ve always been a loner and always will be, it’s how I roll. My work crew are the only friends I have. Occasionally, we’ll go out to lunch, but only when I’m free and not catering to Mr. Robot’s every single whim of the day. If he ever ties the knot, his wife is going to have her hands full. I pity the future Mrs. Robot.

This job pays exceptionally well, which is one of the reasons I applied right after graduating. College took longer to attend than I expected because I had to work full-time while going to school. But one day, all my hard work will pay off. I plan to climb the corporate ladder, gaining experience along the way until I eventually reach the CEO position. That’s the reason I stick around at this company; I need the experience from Mr. Robot to help me achieve my dream. He’s shrewd, and I want to learn from him so I can mimic his business tactics. One day, I’ll be at the top of the world, not at the very bottom where I began.

The thought of my childhood, spent in an orphanage, fills me with bitterness. The feeling of being unwanted is a tough pill to swallow. Yet, I’m grateful for how those experiences have shaped me. They instilled a drive in me to one day rise to the very top. Perhaps my ambition stems from wanting to prove to my parents, who abandoned me, that I’m not worthless. I want them to regret casting me aside like trash. I’ll make a name for myself even if it kills me.

I lock eyes with Phoenix. He has these striking gray eyes that look like steel - matching his stiff exterior perfectly. He always appears rigid when around me, for some unexplainable reason. It’s as if I’ve unknowingly shoved a stick up his butt.

Well… I must admit, the man’s got a pretty nice butt. I’m sure there are jealous marble statues out there. I’ve snuck a peek or two. Alright, okay, maybe every time I’m following him. Can you really blame a girl? A gorgeous man like him deserves a little ogling, especially when he’s strutting around in a three-piece suit. Oh, my! It fits him like it was custom-made - well, because it was. I’ve been to his tailor’s before to collect his new suits.

One of those suits likely costs more than my entire month’s salary. He fills it out perfectly with all his muscles. It might sound a bit weird to admit to stalking him online, but I shamelessly have. I was on the hunt for a shirtless picture just to get a sneak peek under his suit. I wonder if he’s got a six-pack hidden away. It definitely looks that way. Despite my hours of searching, I was left empty-handed; he’s never been photographed without his shirt. Where are the paparazzi when you need them? Seems like they’re snoozing on the job.

I let my eyes wander. His light brown hair is styled as usual - parted to the side and slightly swept back. One of the front pieces consistently curls up at the bottom, falling into his face. It dangles in front of his right eye, practically begging to be twirled around a finger. His perpetual five o’clock shadow is meticulously groomed. He must visit the barber every week.

He pops a thick, perfectly shaped eyebrow at me, waiting. Shoot, I know the routine like the back of my hand, but his gorgeousness briefly distracted me. I hate it when that happens, and sadly, it happens more than I’d care to admit.

“Oh, right,” I say, flustered. “Here’s your schedule,” I announce, placing it in front of him. “And here are the files for your meetings later today. Please review them and let me know if any changes are required.” I arrange them slightly staggered so each one remains visible, even with the overlap. “Would you like lunch from your usual place, or would you prefer something different today, sir?”

“I’ll stick with the usual,” he replies curtly. His lips form a tight line, almost as if he’s suppressing an urge to say more. Then, he looks away from me.

Well, color me intrigued. That expression on his face is entirely new to me; it’s about as rare as a unicorn sighting. Usually, his lips are all pouty and perfect - all the freaking time. Frankly, he seems like he’d be a top-notch kisser with lips like those. I almost laugh. Who am I kidding? He’d probably be horrible since he wouldn’t put an ounce of emotion behind it. So, while those lips might look like they were made for smooching, I have a feeling any kiss from him would be about as exciting as watching paint dry.

Standing there, I might as well be holding up a “Speak now or forever hold your peace” sign, since he remains mute. My curiosity is practically doing somersaults.

Since I began working for him almost a year ago, he only looks at me in short bursts, never for an extended period of time. I’ve clocked how long, out of sheer curiosity. The longest his eyes have ever locked onto mine was a grand total of 22 seconds - a world record in our little office universe. Extended eye contact like this right now is quite rare. Normally, it’s more like a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it situation, barely making it past the 10-second mark. Every now and then, I’ve noticed something interesting: when I wear different outfits, he tends to stare a bit longer, almost like he’s checking me out before quickly catching himself. These are the outfits I keep reserved and only bring out sparingly, trying to get a rise out of him.

Newsflash - it never works! Shocking, I know.

“Alright then, I’ll leave you to it.” With that, I pivot and head towards the door. The click of my heels echoes on the hardwood floor as I straighten out the hem of my short blue skirt.

“Wait,” his rough voice hits me from behind.

It stops me dead in my tracks, and I whirl around to meet his gaze. Why does his voice carry a hint of emotion? Is he finally showing cracks in his icy exterior? After nearly a year of working for him, I was convinced that ice ran through his veins. It’s either that or he’s a robot. Lately, I’ve been leaning more towards the latter, considering he looks too perfect to be real.

He rises from behind his desk and makes his way around it, heading straight toward me. His gaze narrows on me, and my heart plummets into my stomach. Oh no... Am I about to be fired? Is that why he’s displaying even the slightest hint of emotion this morning? Is he upset that he’ll have to take time out of his busy day to find a replacement? I haven’t made any grave mistakes lately. My work ethic is usually flawless - I pride myself on it. Did I somehow mess up unknowingly? My heart quickens with each deliberate step he takes in my direction.

His fingers button his perfectly tailored three piece navy suit that hugs him in all the right places. I swallow hard, mentally preparing myself. As he approaches, he slips his hand into his pocket and then drops to one knee before me.

WHAT THE FRACK?!

Am I losing my mind? I blink rapidly to make sure I’m not hallucinating. There’s no logical explanation for Mr. Robot proposing to me. Or is this some strange, twisted dream I’m trapped in? He’s made appearances in my dreams before, but in those, he actually has a personality. Right now, he’s still as robotic as ever, so I quickly shoot down the dream theory.

He opens the ring box before me, revealing a massive princess-cut diamond ring adorned with tiny diamonds sprinkled around it. That monstrosity must be at least five, maybe six carats. Whoever wears that will need a strong hand. I’m assuming it’s from his jewelry store, parked on the first floor of the mall - the same place where I was just staring at that cheesy ad.

I feel like I might faint any second now. My hands fly up to my face, mirroring the shock of the woman in the ad. But this time, it’s because we’ve never discussed this before. To say I’m shocked would be an understatement. I think my brain might have just broke.

“Will you marry me?” He looks up at me with pleading eyes, as if begging for me to accept. It’s another look I’ve never seen from him before. Another emotion typically absent in robots. Could he be short-circuiting, leading to this unusual behavior? Yet, that faint smile dancing on his lips is nothing short of captivating. Dang, he’s stunning!

As he reaches for my hand, his touch jolts me out of whatever trance I’ve fallen into. It’s the first time he’s ever touched me, and it feels like I’ve been hit with a bolt of lightning. Electricity tingles through my hand, racing up my arm at his warm, gentle touch. Could his short-circuiting somehow affect me too? Yep, I’ll go with that explanation.

When I finally manage to speak again, I say, “What?” still clearly confused by the turn of events.

“I asked you if you’ll marry me,” he says, shifting his focus between my eyes, probably wondering why he has to repeat himself.

Why is he popping the question to me? He’s already taken, and it’s definitely not by me. I’ll never understand what Zara, aka Barbie, sees in him. Perhaps she’s into robots? Or maybe she’s just attracted to his wealth? He always seems disinterested in her.

I tilt my head, looking down at him. “Aren’t you supposed to be asking that question to your girlfriend?”

His face drops, returning to its emotionless state once more. “Please, never refer to her as that. She’ll never be my girlfriend, and I will never marry her. I need to marry someone else to avoid marrying her. I thought you’d be the best option.”

Well, isn’t this just the most romantic proposal ever? I’ve always fantasized about a man saying those exact words to me, just as he did... NOT! What sane woman would say yes to this type of proposal? That’s right - NO ONE!

I glance around, trying to piece together what’s happening. Then it hits me - oh shoot, we’re in his office. There’s a massive glass wall lining the room, giving all my co-workers a front-row seat to our... I honestly don’t even know what to call this right now! I peek behind me and catch some of my co-workers staring at us through the glass. Freaking fantastic! UGH! The last thing I need is an audience for this incredibly awkward moment!

I sidestep my boss and stride over to his desk, giving the remote a firmer slap than necessary. I let out a frustrated sigh, realizing the poor remote didn’t deserve my wrath. I also hope I didn’t break it in the process. With a press of the button, the windows turn opaque, concealing his office from my gossipy co-workers. No doubt, everyone who just witnessed him on one knee before me is probably starting a new group chat at this very moment, conveniently excluding me.

I return to my original place in front of Phoenix, holding up my hand to him as I try to make sense of the situation. “I’m not understanding something. Why do you have to marry Zara? Can’t you just break up with her? It’s 2024, not the Middle Ages. You do have that option, you know.” He’s smoking hot, but I wouldn’t marry him if he were the last man on Earth. I expect my future husband to show some hint of emotion, and this man clearly never has - excluding the last 30 seconds. And if that’s all he has to offer, that’s still a big fat... NO!

“To secure Preston’s deal, he made his demands clear: no marriage, no deal. I was merely using Zara to gain access to her father. This account is critical for my malls, and I’ll do whatever it takes to seal it, but saying ‘I do’ to Zara, that’s where I draw the line.”

So, he’ll sacrifice me, but not himself? What a jerk! “He’s expecting you to marry his daughter, not me.”

“He was vague on the specifics, and I’m going to use that to my advantage. He only mentioned I needed to get married. He never specifically said to his daughter, just assumed.” Yep, that sounds perfectly like Phoenix Storm - the shrewd businessman. He’s always finding a way around an order, bending the rules to his own advantage. This man missed his calling as a lawyer.

“Won’t Preston be furious when he discovers you’ve married someone other than his daughter? Aren’t you worried this might come back to haunt you?”

“Trust me, it won’t haunt me, it’s just business. Preston might throw a fit when he learns the truth, but when he remembers the profit margins, he’ll come to his senses. We’re both in this for the money. I’ve got a plan in place. He’ll be signing before he even realizes I’m not married to his daughter.”

I give his arm a tug, helping him to stand. “Tell me one reason why I should agree to marry you?” There’s literally no reason he could give me that would make me say yes.

“Because you want to keep your job.”

Scratch that, direct hit. Why is he pulling this nonsense on me? I have zero interest in marrying him. Is he trying to propose some kind of fake marriage scenario? Forget it, I don’t even care to know because my answer is still a resounding no. It’s always going to be a no when it comes to him. Fantastic, now I’m probably going to get fired.

He slides the ring out of the box and onto my finger before I can even react. Oh dang, that’s one massive, sparkly diamond gracing my finger. The way it twinkles in the light, it’s almost like it’s casting a spell on me. And man, it’s heavy on my finger too.

“I expect an answer by the end of the day,” his words slap me out of my spell instantly. And there he is again, Mr. Robot, completely drained of emotion.

I reign in my anger at this man attempting to push me into such a situation. We’re not living in ancient times where this kind of behavior is acceptable. I despise every bit of this. Without uttering another word, I spin on my heel and storm out of his office.

I snatch my winter jacket and purse from my desk, my mind already planning my escape route down the stairs. If I ever decide to tie the knot, it’ll be with someone who doesn’t make me want to run for the hills. As I reach the stairs, the light bouncing off the ring nearly blinds me. I’ll think of this as my severance package, considering the firing squad I’ll face after rejecting his proposal.