Making This Daddy Mine

Chapter 1

Chantal

Butterflies flutter in my stomach. It’s only been a week since I was promoted to this position, and I still can’t believe I’m here. I’m actually working as a secretary for tech billionaire Jonas Mattison.

As his new secretary, I’ve done everything in my power to learn the ropes as quickly as possible in order to make a good first impression. He’s known for being a perfectionist, so I have to work hard to live up to his standards.

The office building is slowly waking when I arrive early for the day. The smell of instant coffee hangs heavy in the air. I make myself a quick mug.

“Hey Chantal,” Chris, a fellow secretary, says. “Did you see the mess Mary left on top of the photocopier?” She rolls her eyes. “Interns, I swear to god.”

My heart sinks. As a newbie, it’ll be my job to deal with this along with everything else on the agenda for today. “I’ll go ahead and get that taken care of.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s her job, not yours.”

I shrug. “There might be something important in there, so it’s better if I just get it taken care of now. I’ll talk to her about organization later.”

“If you say so,” she replies. “But you really don’t have to.”

“It’s okay.” I pat her shoulder while passing her, and dropping off my coffee at my desk, I make my way to the copy machine. 

Chris wasn’t kidding. The place is a disorganized mess. Did Mary just randomly shuffle all the papers like a deck of playing cards? 

I make swift work separating out what needs to be copied and what needs to be filed. While I wait for the first round of copies, I impatiently tap my fingers on the machine.

I wonder what Ben is up to. Ellie, his nanny, usually has him up and dressed by now, so I bet they’re eating breakfast. 

Hopefully, he hasn’t had any nightmares. In the early days after the accident, he would wake up screaming almost every night. Now, it only happens a couple times a week, which doesn’t seem much better, but it is a definite improvement compared to before.

“You’re hogging the mirror,” one of the other secretaries, Cleo, complains as she primps her hair.

“Well, you should have gotten here earlier,” another, Yazmin, says as she applies her makeup.

In spite of myself, I roll my eyes. Sure, Mr. Mattison is hot. Anyone with eyes can see that. And he’s rich, which is always a bonus. 

But let’s be honest here: a man like that would never notice a secretary like us. He can have any woman he wants. Why would he consider dating his underlings when there are rich people who would love to be his partner?

“Would it kill you all to be more professional?” I mutter.

Chris, who had been taking some of the files I organized and putting them in their proper place, snickers. 

My cheeks burn. “Sorry. That was unprofessional of me.”

She leans against the wall beside the copy machine, keeping her voice low. “But you’re not wrong. I mean, I get why people are fawning over him, but he’s still a person. They’re acting like he’s a god on earth. Besides, they look silly getting dolled up for someone so basic. He’s not my cup of tea.”

I snort. “Really? He’s not your cup of tea. Then who is?”

With a shrug, she picks up the latest stack I’d organized. “Who said anything about me liking tea?”

I raise my eyebrows at that, but she doesn’t elaborate, and I don’t push. If you want people to let you in, you can’t force the door open.

“Don’t forget that the meeting is in ten,” she says, placing files in their designated cubby holes. “We can finish after.”

“Almost done,” I reply, placing the last of the papers on the copy machine. Once they’re out, I take the warm sheets and file them in their proper place.

“We really need to have that talk with Mary,” she says, brushing her hands. “That was a mess.”

I grab my laptop, legal pad, and final report before heading into the conference room. The butterflies in my stomach return with a vengeance. 

I’ve never met Mr. Mattison before, since he’s currently out of the country. While my hiring was internal, it was someone else who picked me to be his secretary, and the idea of introducing myself to him at a potentially critical meeting made my anxiety all the worse.

The laptop pings the moment I set the report on the desk. The message comes from Mr. Mattison.

Everyone,

 I regret that I will not be able to attend the meeting in person. It will have to be a conference call.

Jonas Mattison

There are a couple sounds of dismay surrounding me, but I let out a sigh of relief, some of the tension leaving my body. Without him here, I can focus on the work instead of worrying about first impressions. 

I work to quickly set up the virtual meeting and play it on a projector for everyone to watch. Soon, faces populate the screen and the meeting begins.

I hate to admit it, but Mr. Mattison does, in fact, look incredible. He has a face that belongs on the cover of Vogue and the charisma of a Hollywood star. I’m beginning to understand why everyone else is so obsessed with him.

But I have to focus. My job is to take thorough notes, not ogle the boss.

Admittedly, I’m not great with tech jargon, but I diligently take down notes, writing in shorthand to be transcribed later. It’s an old-fashioned skill, one that I learned from my mother, who was a court reporter, but it’s still incredibly useful to have.

As a bonus, most people cannot read shorthand anymore, so it lowers the risk of leaking company secrets. It’s sort of like analogue encryption.

My hand flies along the pad as I write down everything I hear. If anyone asked me, I would be able to tell them exactly what they said and when they said it.

The meeting goes well. Mr. Mattison uses his charm to get his point across, and the rest of the board seems to fall in line with what he says, like a general leading the troops off to battle. Soon, it’s all over and people start filing out one by one.

“Mary,” I call as the intern starts to leave with the crowd. She freezes like a deer caught in headlights, and I flash her a warm smile. “Could you help me clean up in here?”

At this, the girl relaxes. She can’t be much older than nineteen. This has to be her first time working in an office setting like this, so it’s no wonder that she’s so nervous. 

“So,” I say as I push in some chairs. “I noticed you left out some papers on the copy machine this morning. While I appreciate you taking initiative, it would be a lot easier on the rest of us in the office if you organized them a bit more.”

She joins me in straightening the chairs and pushing them under the desk. “Sorry, I didn’t think…I mean, I must have gotten distracted.” 

“Do you know where everything is supposed to go?”

Her embarrassed silence is answer enough.

“You’re allowed to ask questions, you know.” I shoot her a grin. “I mean, it’s not like I came out of the womb knowing shorthand and the intricacies of Microsoft Excel. You’re here to learn.”

She lets out a little giggle at that. “Good point. Um, do you think you can show me where it all goes and how you want it organized? I tried to do it myself, but I got confused and panicked.”

“I’d love to,” I reply. Once the room is straightened up, I take her to the photocopier and show her where the different forms and reports are supposed to go and how to organize them so that they don’t get mixed up.

Mary takes diligent notes on her phone and snaps pictures so that she’ll be able to remember next time. I smile to myself when I see how seriously she takes this.

It’s easy to assume the worst in people and write them off, but when given half the chance, most want to do right by others. Mary is clearly someone who wants to do well at her job.

“Thank you again,” she says as she heads to her desk. “I’ll make sure it’s perfect tomorrow.”

“If you have any more questions, don’t hesitate to ask.” I take a seat at my desk. That’s when I notice the coffee still sitting. It’s been long forgotten amid the morning’s tasks. 

Taking a sip, I wrinkle my nose. The only thing worse than instant coffee is cold instant coffee. But caffeine is caffeine, so I drink it.