Alpha's Private Plaything (Elsa and Drake Stone) novel Chapter 101

Chapter 101

I returned to my desk to find Susan hovering nearby. Her first day had

officially begun, and she looked completely out of place in her

designer outfit and impractical heels. Her resemblance to her brother

Allen was striking, but where he exuded competence, she radiated

privileged naivety.

“Elsa! Finally!” She rushed over. “I’ve been trying to figure out the

filing system for like, half an hour. How do you organize the digital

reports again?”

I suppressed a sigh that would have turned into a scream if I’d let it

escape. Is she serious right now? We spent an entire fucking hour on

this on Friday. “The same way I showed you on Friday, Susan. By date

and department code.”

“Right, but like, where do I find the codes?”

“They’re in the orientation packet I prepared for you.”

She blinked at me. “Oh. I think I left that at home.”

Of course she fucking did. “I’ll email you another copy,” I said, already

pulling up the file.

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Chapter 101

That set the tone for the entire morning. Every fifteen minutes

brought a new question:

“How do I transfer calls?”

“Where’s the supply room?”

“Which spreadsheet template should I use?”

“Is Drake–I mean, Mr. Stone–always so serious?”

By noon, I hadn’t completed a single task on my own to–do list. I

skipped lunch, hoping to catch up while Susan was out, but she

returned after only twenty minutes, chattering about the “adorable

little café” downstairs while I was trying to cram a month’s worth of

work into the few minutes of peace I’d been granted.

This has to be some kind of cosmic joke. Or Drake’s idea of

punishment. Replace me with someone who requires me to do twice

the work for the same fucking pay.

My patience finally snapped around two o’clock when she interrupted

me for the third time in ten minutes.

“Susan,” I said, trying to keep my voice level while my inner wolf was

howling with frustration, “I know you’re eager to learn, but you

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graduated from Twin Moon University. These are basic office

functions that should be covered in any business course.”

She twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “I was a music major.

We didn’t do much with office software.”

A music major? Working as Drake’s assistant? You’ve got to be

shitting me. “Even so, I’ve shown you how to use the customer

database three times now. You might want to take notes.”

Her expression shifted from confused to offended. “Are you saying I’m

stupid?”

“No, I’m saying you need to pay attention. I can’t stop my work every

five minutes to-”

“My father says I’m a quick learner,” she cut in, chin lifting. “Maybe

you’re just not explaining things clearly.”

I counted to ten silently. One, two, three–don’t tell her to fuck off-

four, five, six–don’t mention her daddy’s money can’t buy

competence–seven, eight, nine, ten. “Susan, everyone has a learning

curve. I’m just suggesting that-”

“You know what? Fine. If I’m such a burden, I’ll just call my dad’s

assistant. Janice has an MBA from Cornell. She can explain things

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properly.”

Before I could respond, Susan had pulled out her phone and was

rapid–firing instructions to someone on the other end. Twenty

minutes later, a severe–looking woman in her forties arrived,

introduced herself as Janice, and efficiently set up at Susan’s desk.

Susan, meanwhile, stretched out on the office sofa, scrolling through

her phone.

I stared at the scene in disbelief. Holy shit. Is she seriously having

someone else do her job on her first day? And Drake calls ME

unprofessional?

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