I Woke Up Next To A Half-Naked Bad Boy in School [27] And He Suddenly Made Me His Personal Slave?!

I was so sick of parties that if I have to face another one I might vomit. But here I was, arranging a social gathering for Rachel Laurent, and trust me this second one was more impossible than the first one. First of all, who the fuck was Joshua Bryan, CEO of the Humphreys Corp? How the heck was I suppose to invite someone if Rachel herself didn't know his phone number?!

BAM!

"Here's the list and records you wanted," I said to Brandon, who was sitting by the window with his legs resting on the coffee table in front of him. He looked up and then his gaze fell on the 3-inch thick file. "You should really hire a secretary," I said nonchalantly. He smirked.

"Why would I when I have you?"

"Samantha!"

Oh for god's sake!

I stomped out of the room and went on the first landing of the stairs. "Yes, Rachel?" I asked as sweetly as I could. What was now? The shrimps were too bloody small?! "I specifically ordered for that six thousand dollar cake. Why did the bakery called and said that they would deliver a fondant cake worth a hundred dollars...today?"

You'd think I would know stuff like that.

"Ugh, I'll deal with them later!"

"I want it to be deal with now."

"Sam, fetch me my laptop downstairs."

Fetch it yourself.

"Now, Samantha," Rachel's voice demanded. "Fine, fine!" I muttered under my breath as I skipped down the stairs two steps at once. I took the phone from Rachel and 'handled' my way to get the cake right.

Pfft, and Amber was wondering why I sounded so cranky over the phone.

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"Brandon," I said, trying to get the topic about how much I dislike doing the event planning work for the 50th time, but he pretended he wasn't listening...or at least, he was really not listening since he was too engrossed with his phone.

Tomorrow's the 'big day', and I had too much work that still needed my attention. Three important figures decided to not show up at the last minute, and 5 other decided to show up...and I had no idea where I could find a 'decent' limo service.

I meant, weren't all limo services were decent? I brought my hand up to my forehead furiously. "Brandon," I shouted to get his attention, but he held up a hand. "Can't you see I'm fucking busy?" he mouthed, clearly annoyed.

Fine. Who needed him anyway?

"So what time will you arrive?" I heard Brandon muttered. "Right. Okay. Night then."

"Brandon--"

"Could you fax this to our lawyer's office?"

Stupid deal. Fine. New plan. Search for a new job first then go away, if I could.

I nearly ripped the papers in his hand and went into Rachel's study room where I saw a fax machine there once, but when I walked into the room, she was sitting there, glaring at me as she smoked. "I need...to use that," I said, feeling the heat rose to my cheeks.

I was angry, but I still had a bit of my patience. But patience could only get me so far...

"You look awful in that ghastly shirt. Is that what you're planning to wear for tomorrow? Do you want to destroy my reputation along with Brandon's?"

I seethed as I went over the fax machine. After that, I went straight into my bedroom with a phone in hand and 500 list of tasks to do.

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"Jake," I said as I saw the familiar back of a blond guy sipping champagne. "That's for the party," I hissed and took the flute away from him. "You look outstandingly horrible," he said, surprised when he saw me. "What are you doing here?" I asked.

"Brandon invited me over," he explained. "I've met him earlier so, don't you fuss yourself," he said, looking at me from top to bottom. I rubbed my nose, feeling a tad embarrassed all of a sudden. "You need a drink," he finally said.

"I had. Coffee," I said, pulling a face. I never thought I could get the awful liquid down my throat, but the caffeine did well for me, I guess. "What's wrong with Brandon nowadays? He's the one who's looking awful."

"New problems," Jake sighed. "The business is falling down so fast that sooner or later there won't be a Compton Industries. He's trying to save everything he could, focusing on the London's office," he said. "Now, let's not talk about such horrible topics. Did you arrange all of this?"

"It look like crap, I know," I said. He looked at me in utter amazement. "What do you mean? It's great!"

The guests had not arrived yet, but the garden looked hectic with the caterers running around here and there. Not to mention they screwed up the menu, which I was sure Rachel would kill me for it. Part of me felt a sadistic triumph over the mistake, but part of me was scared to death that she would actually...literally, kill me.

"I'm on the brink of insanity, Jake," I murmured before I could stop myself. "And the one who is driving me off of the cliff of pure hell of insanity is Rachel. She couldn't stop changing little details over the time, and I hate it. You see that cake?" I asked, pointing to a 5 foot tall vanilla cake.

"Yeah?"

"She nearly killed me when she found out that there were 30 sugar flowers instead of 20. So she made me eat the other 10."

The corner of Jake's lips twitched, amused. "I'm serious," I said, frowning. "And those invitation cards? Yeah, they're no good."

"And why's that?"

"Because I sent it in a light pink envelope instead of this ugly shade of green," I said. He finally burst out laughing. "Oh and my writing looked like - according to her - scribbling of a 2-year-old and that a cow would probably do better than me."

"D'you have a sample?" he said in between laughter. I fished out a crumpled envelope out of my pocket and smoothed it out before handing it to him. "I can read this," he said. "I know!" I exclaimed angrily. "She complained because to her eyes it was too small!"

Talking about this didn't help at all. In fact, I felt more pissed off by the minute.

A few hours later, the guests started to pour in and a soothing music started to play as a sign of greeting. Though, I must say I didn't felt calm at all. Rachel was on a rampage.

"Who the hell asked you to invite Lord Gilbert here?!" she hissed. I cocked an eyebrow and crossed my arms absent-mindedly. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you didn't want him here. You said to invite all of the people from your contact list--"

"Except for him! What are you; deaf?!"

My fingers itched to rip my hair out.

"I'm beginning to think that I would be so if you won't stop yelling to my face!" I shouted angrily.

My patience had officially comitted suicide.

"I've arranged everything, EVERY SINGLE THING!" I said, unable to keep my voice in a low hiss. "You didn't even ask me, you demanded me to do them! And I did it, sacrificing my summer nights which by the way, I thought would be fun and exciting, for these boring, crappy party in which I have to wear this ugly--" I seethed, pinching the creamy suit covering my body, "--piece of junk! I did it for free, Rachel. Free! I didn't even have a say in this and you kept working me to the bones!"

"Shut up, Bennett," Rachel hissed, glaring but shooting nervous smiles to the curious faces around us. "And this is the thanks I get?!" I exclaimed. "You didn't even thanked me for the last event I've arranged for you!"

"Thank you. Now shut the hell up."

"You don't even have the time to acknowledge Brandon's presence!" I barked. As soon as I started, my tongue was on a bitching frenzy. I couldn't stop, after all the pent up stress I had for the past two weeks.

"Don't you think I don't know that you missed 8 lunches in a row with him so far because you have to go to a spa! And the only time when you're interested in his stories were the ones about the money you would earn, or else you would ignore him all the way," I said through gritted teeth. "And that cake!" I exclaimed, suddenly feeling hysterical. I wanted to laugh, I really did. But I didn't know why.

"That cake wasn't even delicious! And you paid thousands of dollars for it! My god, you are so pathetic!"

Okay. I swore to god that last statement wasn't even planned. It just slurred out of my mouth!

I stomped my way to the cake table and grabbed a fistful of the sugar flowers. "You want your sugar flowers? You can have em'," I said. And on impulse, I threw the edible flowers towards Rachel.

A few shocked gasps echoed around the garden before Brandon stride towards me and grabbed my arm. "Come on," he beckoned curtly. "Let's get you a cup of tea to calm you down."

As if I needed one, but he dragged me forcefully inside the house anyway.