The ceo’s secretary

Jason Stokes

**Two Months Later**

“Mr. Stokes! Mr. Stokes!” Jada called, tapping me awake from the couch.

“Huh?” I mumbled, disoriented.

“Good morning. The meeting will be starting in an hour and a half,” Jada reminded me, her tone insistent.

“And?” I muttered, struggling to focus.

“And you have to be in the office earlier to sign some crucial documents related to the meeting,” she added, her eyes glancing around the room littered with empty beer bottles.

I sluggishly got out of bed, accidentally kicking a half-empty beer bottle that rolled across the floor. It had become part of my daily routine.Exclusive content © by Nô(v)el/Dr/ama.Org.

“Again?” Jada snapped, frustration evident in her voice.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, making my way to the restroom to freshen up.

As we headed to the garage, I staggered towards Lexi’s car, a pang of longing hitting me hard. “I would have given you the world if that was what you wanted,” I thought bitterly before turning back to my own car.

“Are you sure you can drive?” Jada asked, her concern cutting through my haze.

“I got this,” I replied, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

The past two months had been a blur of despair and routine, each day blending into the next. Despite Carl’s continued efforts, Lexi remained missing, leaving a void that no amount of work or alcohol could fill. I was barely holding on, but the thought of Lexi, somewhere out there, kept me going, even if just barely.

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As soon as the meeting ended, I headed straight to my office, locking the door behind me. It had become a disturbing routine-a desperate attempt to feel close to Lexi. I pulled down my trousers, imagining her touch as I began to stroke myself.

I closed my eyes, trying to relive our moments together. I could almost hear her moans, feel her reactions as l entered her, the way she whispered my name when she was about to come, and how she mouthed that she loved me.

“Aaaahhhhhh,” I growled, my body tensing as the pleasure surged through me.

I grabbed a handkerchief to clean myself up, feeling a pang of guilt and sadness once the act was over. Just as I finished cleaning, a knock on the door jolted me back to reality.

I opened the door, expecting Jada, but found my father standing there instead.

“Jason, we need to talk” he said, walking in and taking a seat across from mine.

“There’s nothing to talk about unless you bring her back’ I replied sluggishly, barely able to muster the energy to be angry.

“Jason, the company is suffering,” Dad said, his tone a mix of frustration and concern.

“You should be thankful l’m even trying to show up at all. Do you have any idea how much money I’m spending to find her? I don’t know where she is, if she’s still alive, or what you’ve done to her. And you expect me to be happy?” I retorted, my voice breaking with the weight of my frustration and despair.

“I’ve told you I’m sorry” he said, trying to placate me.

“You’re not sorry. The only reason you’re apologizing is because your business is suffering” I shot back, the bitterness in my voice unmistakable.

“I’m genuinely sorry, Jason. I wouldn’t have done it if I knew she meant this much to you,” he said, his tone softening as he looked at me with a mixture of regret and helplessness.

His words did little to soothe my anger. “It’s too late for apologies, Dad. Unless you can bring Lexi back, there’s nothing you can say to fix this.”

“You knew damn well she means everything to me,” I snapped. “I told you on Mom’s birthday, warned you to stay away from her. There’s nothing to discuss until I find her, if she’s even still alive.” I locked eyes with him, my gaze burning with accusation.

“What are you insinuating? That I killed her?” His voice rose defensively.

“I’m not insinuating anything,” I said coldly. “I’m just speaking my mind.”

“Jason, no jokes-this company is suffering. We’ve lost millions,” he implored, his tone bordering on desperation.

“Tell me that when you bring her back,” I retorted, cutting him off as I walked out, leaving him with his guilt and my unspoken fury.

I got to my car and immediately called John.

“Hello,” he answered.

“Hello. What’s up? Where are you?” I asked, trying to push my father’s words out of my mind.

“I’m just about to close for the day. You?” he replied.

“Same here. Are you coming to the club tonight?” I asked, needing the distraction more than ever.

“Now you’re talking. You’re coming back to your senses!” John laughed, his voice full of cheer.

“Are you coming or not?” I pressed, not in the mood for his teasing.

“I’ll be there,” he confirmed.

“Great. See you then,” I said, hanging up and feeling a slight relief at the thought of escaping, even just for a night.

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I entered the club, spotting John at our usual spot and ordering a glass of wine as I sat down.

“You’re finally coming back to yourself,” John said, a hopeful note in his voice.

“I don’t think so,” I replied, taking a sip of my wine. “I still miss her every day, every single second.”

“Do you think she misses you too?” John asked, concern replacing his usual joviality.

“I don’t know,” I said, my voice breaking. “She left me for a million dollars!” I gulped down the rest of my wine and ordered another. “A million dollars I would have given her without blinking.” Tears started to well up, and I couldn’t hold them back anymore.

“Jason,” John called softly, glancing around, “people are staring at us.”

“I don’t give a damn about them,” I said, the tears now flowing freely. “I would have doubled it for her, tripled it. I would have given her anything and everything.”

“Maybe what you need is… a distraction, you know?” John suggested, trying to be delicate.

“I know exactly what I need,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I need her. Her presence, her touch. She makes me powerless.”

I gulped down my wine and ordered another glass, my hands trembling slightly.

“Drink responsibly,” John urged, his tone gentle.

“I’m trying,” I said, staring into my glass, the weight of my loss pressing down harder than ever.

After my sixth round, John stopped the bartender and set me up with one of the girls.

“I’m not in the mood,” I whispered to him drunkenly, feeling the weight of my grief pulling me down.

“Give her a chance,” John insisted, smiling and signaling to the girl.

She led me to a room, undressing me down to my boxers before shedding her own clothes. Though my body responded, my mind was elsewhere, fixated on Lexi.

She straddled me, but the usual pleasure I found in physical connection was absent. I closed my eyes, trying to summon some semblance of desire, but Lexi’s image kept intruding.

After five minutes of going through the motions, I excused myself and staggered to the restroom. Turning on the tap, I started stroking myself, thinking only of Lexi. Her face, her touch, her voice filled my mind.

The climax came quickly, more out of desperation than pleasure. I cleaned up, showered, and staggered back to the room. Dressing silently, I left the girl behind without a word, the hollowness inside me more profound than ever.

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**One Week Later**

It was Sunday evening, and I had been drinking since morning. The haze of alcohol dulled my senses, and when someone knocked on the door, I staggered over, not bothering to check who it was before unlocking it.

It was Dixie.

“What are you doing here?” I slurred, heading back to my seat.

“I’m here to take care of you,” she said, closing the door behind her.

“You don’t have to. I didn’t ask you to,” I muttered, sinking back into the chair.

“But I want to,” she insisted, her voice softening as she approached me.

“I don’t need your help,” I replied, my words heavy with drunken defiance.

“Jason,” she called, dropping her bag and moving closer. “I’m here to take care of you,” she repeated, her hands caressing my shoulders. “You deserve more than this.” She gently pushed the beer out of my hand, her touch firm yet tender.

I looked at her, eyes bleary, and sighed. “What’s the point, Dixie?”

“The point is that you can’t keep doing this to yourself,” she said, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Let me help you, please.”

“Give that back! I don’t joke with that,” I growled, reaching for the beer Dixie had taken from me.

“You weren’t a drunkard when I knew you or the last time I saw you,” she said, holding the bottle out of my reach.

“And now I am. Give that back!”

“I’m not,” she said firmly and then, to my surprise, leaned in and kissed me. Her lips were warm and insistent, and against my better judgment, I found myself responding.

“Oh, I’ve missed this,” she murmured into my mouth, kissing me harder.

The taste of her, the familiarity of her touch, it all came rushing back. I deepened the kiss, pushing my tongue into her mouth as I guided her down to the floor.

“I’ve missed it too,” I said breathlessly.

“You can have it now,” she whispered, her hands tugging at my shirt, her body arching toward mine.

I drunkenly stripped off my clothes, and Dixie did the same. I pulled her closer, stroking myself briefly before positioning at her entrance.

“I’m sure you’ve missed this,” I said, licking my lips.

“Absolutely, yes. Give it to me. I want all of it,” she whispered, eyes gleaming.

I pulled back slightly, ready to push in, when my phone rang. I froze.

“You can take that later,” Dixie urged, her hands on my chest.

“No, let me take it now,” I insisted, stumbling to grab my phone. I checked the caller ID-it was Carl.

“Carl,” I said, stepping away from Dixie.

“Mr. Stokes, I’ve found her,” Carl said, his voice tense.

“You found her?” I asked, hardly believing it.

“Yes, I found her but…”

“But what? I demanded, my heart pounding.