Her Silverfox Boss

Chapter 1

Serena

The fluorescent lights hum above my desk as I scroll through the presentation deck one more time. Around me, the office buzzes with Valentine's Day fever - paper hearts, whispered plans, and the occasional squeal of delight from someone receiving an early gift.

"Did you see what Mark got Sarah?" A voice carries over from the break room. "A singing telegram!"

I tune out the chatter, my fingers flying across the keyboard as I refine the transition animations between slides. This presentation with Chloe needs to be flawless. The quarterly marketing strategy isn't just another project - it's my chance to prove I deserve that promotion.

Through the glass walls of my cubicle, I catch glimpses of red and pink decorations sprouting up like persistent weeds. Someone's stuck cupids to the windows. The sound of chocolate boxes being passed around mingles with excited conversations about dinner reservations.

Who gives a fuck about Valentine's Day, anyway? Not me. Not at all.

"Slide fifteen needs more impact data," I mutter to myself, pulling up our analytics dashboard. The numbers dance across my screen as I extract the metrics that will make our strategy impossible to ignore. Chloe won't be able to dismiss these results.

My coworkers' laughter echoes from the kitchen area, followed by the pop of a champagne bottle - probably another office celebration. I adjust my noise-canceling headphones and dive deeper into the presentation. The competitive analysis section needs tightening, and the market penetration statistics could use more visual punch.

A shadow falls across my desk, accompanied by the distinct click of Louboutin heels. The scent of Chanel No. 5 announces Chloe's presence before she even speaks.

"How's our presentation coming along?" Chloe peers over my shoulder, her designer sunglasses perched on top of her head despite being indoors. Her silk blazer probably costs more than most of our monthly salaries here at InnovateTech. The scent of her perfume is overwhelming, and I resist the urge to lean away from her hovering presence. "Oh, the format looks clean! So beautiful. Everyone's gonna be so happy with this."

"It would be coming along better if I had your sections." I don't bother hiding the edge in my voice. "I've been waiting since Tuesday." My fingers pause over the keyboard, fighting the urge to pull up the timeline email I sent her three times this week.

"Oh, don't worry about that." She waves her perfectly manicured hand. "I'm onto it. Just need to polish up a few things." Her dismissive tone makes my jaw clench. Classic Chloe, acting like deadlines are mere suggestions.

"The meeting is in a few days, Chloe." I turn slightly in my chair, forcing her to take a step back from my personal space. The champagne celebrations in the kitchen have died down, making our tension feel even more pronounced.

"And it'll be ready." Chloe adjusts her Cartier watch, barely glancing at my screen. "Just make sure the format looks clean. None of those garish transitions you used last time." She emphasizes the word 'garish' like she's doing me a favor by pointing out my supposed shortcomings.

My jaw clenches. The last presentation won us the Anderson account - our biggest client this quarter - but heaven forbid anyone acknowledge that. Especially Ms. Perfect with her thousand-dollar shoes and daddy's approval.

"Anything else?" I ask, turning back to my screen and focusing on the sales projections that actually need my attention.

"That's all. Keep up the good work." She pats my shoulder - a gesture that makes my skin crawl, like nails on a chalkboard - before strutting away to her corner office, the click of her Louboutins echoing through the open floor plan.

I watch her go, fighting the urge to throw my stapler at her head. Must be nice having daddy as CEO. While the rest of us work overtime to meet deadlines, she waltzes in late with her designer coffee and spends half the day on personal calls. I've lost count of how many times I've heard her planning brunches and spa days when we're knee-deep in quarterly reports. But hey, nepotism is alive and well at InnovateTech.

"The format looks clean," I mimic under my breath, returning to the slides. "I'll show you clean when I have to pull an all-nighter because you can't be bothered to do your job."

I glance at my monitor's clock - 1:47 PM. Three days until the board presentation, and still no sign of Chloe's sections. My fingers drum against the desk as I debate sending her another reminder email, just so she knows I'm serious about this shit.

"Hey, Serena!" Marcus from accounting pokes his head over my cubicle wall. "They've got these amazing heart-shaped sugar cookies in the break room. Better hurry before they're gone."

"Thanks, but I've got to finish these projections." I gesture at my screen, where the half-completed slides mock me. The weight of this presentation sits heavy on my shoulders - it's not just another quarterly review, it's my shot at showing the board what a woman of color can bring to the table.

"Come on, live a little. Even Johnson from legal took a cookie break. And you know how much of a pain in the ass he can be." Marcus grins, adjusting his tie. "Everyone's getting into the Valentine's spirit."

"That's exactly why I need to stay focused." I minimize the email draft I was composing for Chloe. "While everyone's distracted by hearts and flowers, I'm going to nail this presentation."

"Your loss." He shrugs, disappearing back to his side of the wall.

The sound of laughter and chatter drifts from the break room. Someone's started playing love songs on their phone, and the saccharine melody of "All You Need Is Love" filters through the office. I turn up my music to drown it out, letting the steady beat of my workout playlist keep me centered.

This is what sets me apart. While others coast through their days on sugar highs and office romance gossip, I'm putting in the extra hours. Making the extra effort. Fighting twice as hard to be taken seriously in rooms where I'm often the only woman, let alone the only Black woman.

I pull up our competitor analysis again, cross-referencing the latest market data. The numbers need to be bulletproof. No room for questions or doubt when I stand in front of those board members. They'll see more than my gender or my skin color - they'll see results they can't ignore.

Movement catches my eye, and I look up from my screen to see Chloe perched on Derek's desk, one leg crossed over the other, her skirt riding up just enough to be noticeable. She tosses her hair back, laughing at whatever mediocre joke he's telling.

"Oh my God, Derek, you're so funny." Her voice carries across the office floor. She places her hand on his arm, leaning in closer.

What the hell? Is she trying to find some poor loser to do her part in the presentation?

Behind her, James from IT hovers with a hopeful expression, clearly waiting his turn for attention. These guys fall for her act every time - the damsel who needs help with her computer, advice on presentations, or someone to grab coffee with.

I watch as Chloe shifts her position, making sure everyone gets a good view of her designer outfit. "I just can't figure out these spreadsheets. Maybe one of you could help me after work?"

My fingers pause over the keyboard, jaw clenching. The spreadsheets she's supposed to be contributing to our presentation. The ones she's had a week to complete. The same ones I specifically explained to her last Tuesday, step by step, like I was teaching a kindergartener.

"I'd be happy to walk you through it," Derek offers, puffing up his chest like some peacock.

"You're such a lifesaver." She touches his shoulder again, giggling in that practiced way that makes me want to gag. I've seen this performance enough times to know exactly how it ends - with someone else doing her work while she takes all the credit.

James steps closer, practically tripping over himself to get into her orbit. "I could help too. Excel is kind of my specialty."

"Really? That's so impressive." Chloe beams at him, and I swear I can see his IQ dropping by the second. Poor guy probably thinks he's special, not realizing he's just today's sucker in her rotating cast of willing victims.

This is what drives me crazy. While I'm grinding away at actual work, Chloe's playing her games. Daddy's little princess, using her privilege like a weapon, batting her eyes and playing dumb when it suits her. She's never had to prove herself, never had to work twice as hard just to get a seat at the table.

I turn back to my screen, but her theatrical laughter pierces my concentration again. She's now standing between both men, somehow managing to make them feel like they're each getting special attention. Her perfectly manicured hand rests on one guy's forearm while she angles her body toward the other - a masterclass in manipulation.

"You guys are the best. I don't know what I'd do without you." Her voice drips with honey-sweet insincerity that only I seem able to detect.

The worst part? This performance will probably get her further than my meticulously researched presentation ever will. The one I stayed up until 2 AM perfecting, triple-checking every statistic and source. The one that actually matters to the company's bottom line.

And that shit makes my blood boil. I grip my mouse harder, trying to channel my frustration into something productive instead of dwelling on the unfairness of it all. But the sound of her giggles keeps floating over to me through the walls, each one like a tiny dagger to my professional pride.