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My father always said the way to le

My father always said the way to learn the job you want is to spend every second watching someone do it.
“To get the job at the top, you’ve got to start at the bottom,” he told me. “Become the person the CEO can’t live without. Be their right-hand man. Learn their world, and they’ll snatch you up the second you finish your degree.”
I had become irreplaceable. And I’d definitely become the Right Hand. It just so happened that in this case, I was the right hand that most days wanted to slap the damn face.
My boss, Mr. Bennett Ryan. Beautiful Bastard.
My stomach clenched tightly at the thought of him: tall, gorgeous, and entirely evil. He was the most self-righteous, pompous prick I’d ever met. I’d hear all of the other women in the office gossip about his escapades and wonder if a nice face was all it took. But my father also said, “You realize early in life that beauty is only skin-deep, and ugly goes straight to the bone.” I’d had my fair share of unpleasant men in the past few years, dated a few in high school and college. But this one took the cake.
“Well, hello Miss Mills!” Mr. Ryan stood in the doorway to my office that served as an anteroom to his. His voice was laced with honey, but it was all wrong . . . like honey left to freeze and crack on ice.
After spilling water on my phone, dropping my earrings into the garbage disposal, being rear-ended on the interstate, and having to wait for the cops to come and tell us what we both already knew—that it was the other guy’s fault—the last thing I needed this morning was a grumpy Mr. Ryan.
Too bad for me he didn’t come in any other flavor.
I gave him my usual. “Good morning, Mr. Ryan,” hoping he would give me his usual curt nod in return.
But when I tried to slip past him, he murmured, “Indeed? ‘Morning,’ Miss Mills? What time is it in your little world?”
I stopped and met his cold stare. He was a good eight inches taller than me, and before working for him I’d never felt so small. I’d worked for Ryan Media Group for six years. But since his return to the family business nine months ago, I’d taken to wearing heels I used to consider circus height just so I could approach him near eye level. Even so, I still had to tilt my head to look up at him, and he clearly relished it, hazel eyes flashing.
“I had a bit of a disaster morning. It won’t happen again,” I said, relieved that my voice came out steady. I had never been late, not once, but leave it to him to make a thing of it the first time it happened. I managed to slip past him, put my purse and coat in my closet, and power up my computer. I tried to act like he wasn’t standing in the doorway, watching every move I made.
“‘Disaster morning’ is quite an apt description for what I’ve had to deal with in your absence. I spoke to Alex Schaffer personally to smooth over the fact that he didn’t get the signed contracts when promised: nine a.m., East Coast time. I had to call Madeline Beaumont personally to let her know we were, in fact, going to proceed with the proposal as written. In other words, I’ve done your job and mine this morning. Surely, even with a ‘disaster morning’ you can manage eight a.m.? Some of us get up and start working before the brunch hour.”
I glanced up at him, antagonizing me, glaring, arms crossed over his broad chest—and all because I was an hour late. I blinked away, very deliberately not staring at the way his dark tailored suit stretched across his shoulders. I had made the mistake of visiting the hotel gym during a convention the first month we worked together and walked in to find him sweaty and shirtless next to the treadmill. He had a face that any male model would kill for and the most incredible hair I’ve ever seen on a man. Freshly fucked hair. That’s what the girls downstairs called it, and according to them, it earned its title. The image of him wiping his chest with his shirt was forever burned into my brain.
Of course, he’d had to ruin it by opening his mouth: “It’s nice to see you finally taking an interest in your physical fitness, Miss Mills.”
Asshole.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Ryan,” I said with just a hint of bite. “I understand the burden I placed on you by making you manage a fax machine and pick up a telephone. As I mentioned, it won’t happen again.”
“You’re right, it won’t,” he replied, cocky smile firmly in place.
If only he would keep his mouth shut, he’d be perfect. A piece of duct tape would do the trick. I had some in my desk that I’d occasionally pull out and fondle, hoping someday I could put it to good use.
“And just so you don’t allow this incident to slip your memory, I’d like to see the full status tables for the Schaffer, Colton, and Beaumont projects on my desk by five. And then you’re going to make up the hour lost this morning by doing a mock board presentation of the Papadakis account for me in the conference room at six. If you’re going to manage this account, you’re going to prove to me that you know what the hell you’re doing.”
My eyes widened as I watched him turn away, slamming his office door behind him. He knew damn well that I was ahead of schedule with this project, which also served as my MBA thesis. I still had months to finish my slides once the contracts were signed . . . which they weren’t—they hadn’t even been fully drafted. Now, with everything else on my plate, he wanted me to put together a mock board presentation in . . . I looked at my watch. Great, seven and a half hours, if I skipped lunch. I opened the Papadakis file and got down to it.
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Hasil (Bahasa Indonesia) 1: [Salinan]
Disalin!
My father always said the way to learn the job you want is to spend every second watching someone do it.“To get the job at the top, you’ve got to start at the bottom,” he told me. “Become the person the CEO can’t live without. Be their right-hand man. Learn their world, and they’ll snatch you up the second you finish your degree.”I had become irreplaceable. And I’d definitely become the Right Hand. It just so happened that in this case, I was the right hand that most days wanted to slap the damn face.My boss, Mr. Bennett Ryan. Beautiful Bastard.My stomach clenched tightly at the thought of him: tall, gorgeous, and entirely evil. He was the most self-righteous, pompous prick I’d ever met. I’d hear all of the other women in the office gossip about his escapades and wonder if a nice face was all it took. But my father also said, “You realize early in life that beauty is only skin-deep, and ugly goes straight to the bone.” I’d had my fair share of unpleasant men in the past few years, dated a few in high school and college. But this one took the cake.“Well, hello Miss Mills!” Mr. Ryan stood in the doorway to my office that served as an anteroom to his. His voice was laced with honey, but it was all wrong . . . like honey left to freeze and crack on ice.After spilling water on my phone, dropping my earrings into the garbage disposal, being rear-ended on the interstate, and having to wait for the cops to come and tell us what we both already knew—that it was the other guy’s fault—the last thing I needed this morning was a grumpy Mr. Ryan.Too bad for me he didn’t come in any other flavor.
I gave him my usual. “Good morning, Mr. Ryan,” hoping he would give me his usual curt nod in return.
But when I tried to slip past him, he murmured, “Indeed? ‘Morning,’ Miss Mills? What time is it in your little world?”
I stopped and met his cold stare. He was a good eight inches taller than me, and before working for him I’d never felt so small. I’d worked for Ryan Media Group for six years. But since his return to the family business nine months ago, I’d taken to wearing heels I used to consider circus height just so I could approach him near eye level. Even so, I still had to tilt my head to look up at him, and he clearly relished it, hazel eyes flashing.
“I had a bit of a disaster morning. It won’t happen again,” I said, relieved that my voice came out steady. I had never been late, not once, but leave it to him to make a thing of it the first time it happened. I managed to slip past him, put my purse and coat in my closet, and power up my computer. I tried to act like he wasn’t standing in the doorway, watching every move I made.
“‘Disaster morning’ is quite an apt description for what I’ve had to deal with in your absence. I spoke to Alex Schaffer personally to smooth over the fact that he didn’t get the signed contracts when promised: nine a.m., East Coast time. I had to call Madeline Beaumont personally to let her know we were, in fact, going to proceed with the proposal as written. In other words, I’ve done your job and mine this morning. Surely, even with a ‘disaster morning’ you can manage eight a.m.? Some of us get up and start working before the brunch hour.”
I glanced up at him, antagonizing me, glaring, arms crossed over his broad chest—and all because I was an hour late. I blinked away, very deliberately not staring at the way his dark tailored suit stretched across his shoulders. I had made the mistake of visiting the hotel gym during a convention the first month we worked together and walked in to find him sweaty and shirtless next to the treadmill. He had a face that any male model would kill for and the most incredible hair I’ve ever seen on a man. Freshly fucked hair. That’s what the girls downstairs called it, and according to them, it earned its title. The image of him wiping his chest with his shirt was forever burned into my brain.
Of course, he’d had to ruin it by opening his mouth: “It’s nice to see you finally taking an interest in your physical fitness, Miss Mills.”
Asshole.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Ryan,” I said with just a hint of bite. “I understand the burden I placed on you by making you manage a fax machine and pick up a telephone. As I mentioned, it won’t happen again.”
“You’re right, it won’t,” he replied, cocky smile firmly in place.
If only he would keep his mouth shut, he’d be perfect. A piece of duct tape would do the trick. I had some in my desk that I’d occasionally pull out and fondle, hoping someday I could put it to good use.
“And just so you don’t allow this incident to slip your memory, I’d like to see the full status tables for the Schaffer, Colton, and Beaumont projects on my desk by five. And then you’re going to make up the hour lost this morning by doing a mock board presentation of the Papadakis account for me in the conference room at six. If you’re going to manage this account, you’re going to prove to me that you know what the hell you’re doing.”
My eyes widened as I watched him turn away, slamming his office door behind him. He knew damn well that I was ahead of schedule with this project, which also served as my MBA thesis. I still had months to finish my slides once the contracts were signed . . . which they weren’t—they hadn’t even been fully drafted. Now, with everything else on my plate, he wanted me to put together a mock board presentation in . . . I looked at my watch. Great, seven and a half hours, if I skipped lunch. I opened the Papadakis file and got down to it.
Sedang diterjemahkan, harap tunggu..
Hasil (Bahasa Indonesia) 2:[Salinan]
Disalin!
Ayah saya selalu mengatakan cara untuk mempelajari pekerjaan yang Anda inginkan adalah untuk menghabiskan setiap menonton kedua seseorang melakukannya.
"Untuk mendapatkan pekerjaan di atas, Anda harus mulai dari bawah," katanya. "Menjadi orang CEO tidak bisa hidup tanpa. Jadilah tangan kanan mereka. Pelajari dunia mereka, dan mereka akan merebut Anda up kedua Anda menyelesaikan gelar Anda.
"Saya telah menjadi tak tergantikan. Dan saya pasti akan menjadi Tangan Kanan. Itu hanya kebetulan bahwa dalam kasus ini, saya tangan kanan yang hampir setiap hari ingin menampar wajah sialan.
Bos saya, Mr. Bennett Ryan. . Bajingan indah
Perutku terkepal erat di pikiran dia: tinggi, cantik, dan sepenuhnya jahat. Dia adalah yang paling-diri benar, tusukan sombong yang pernah saya temui. Aku mendengar semua wanita lain di gosip kantor tentang petualangan dan bertanya-tanya apakah wajah yang bagus itu semua yang diperlukan. Tapi ayah saya juga mengatakan, "Anda menyadari awal kehidupan bahwa kecantikan hanya kulit-dalam, dan jelek akan langsung ke tulang." Aku punya saya adil pria menyenangkan dalam beberapa tahun terakhir, tanggal beberapa di tinggi sekolah dan perguruan tinggi. Tapi yang satu ini mengambil kue.
"Yah, halo Nona Mills!" Pak Ryan berdiri di ambang pintu ke kantor saya yang menjabat sebagai ruang tunggu untuk nya. Suaranya dicampur dengan madu, tapi itu semua salah. . . seperti madu kiri untuk membekukan dan retak di atas es.
Setelah menumpahkan air pada ponsel saya, menjatuhkan anting-anting saya ke pembuangan sampah, menjadi belakang berakhir di jalan tol, dan harus menunggu polisi datang dan memberitahu kami apa yang baik kita sudah tahu -bahwa itu adalah kesalahan-hal terakhir orang lain yang saya butuhkan pagi ini adalah marah-marah Mr Ryan.
Sayang sekali bagi saya dia tidak datang dalam setiap rasa lainnya.
Aku memberinya biasa saya. "Selamat pagi, Pak Ryan," berharap dia akan memberi saya nya singkat mengangguk biasa imbalan.
Tapi ketika saya mencoba menyelinap melewatinya, ia bergumam, "Memang? 'Pagi, "Miss Mills? Apa waktu itu di dunia kecil Anda? "Aku berhenti dan bertemu tatapan dingin.
Dia adalah seorang yang baik delapan inci lebih tinggi dari saya, dan sebelum bekerja untuknya aku tidak pernah merasa begitu kecil. Saya akan bekerja untuk Ryan Media Group selama enam tahun. Tapi sejak dia kembali ke bisnis keluarga sembilan bulan yang lalu, saya akan dibawa ke mengenakan sepatu hak saya digunakan untuk mempertimbangkan ketinggian sirkus hanya supaya aku bisa mendekatinya tingkat mata dekat. Meski begitu, aku masih harus memiringkan kepala saya untuk melihat ke arahnya, dan ia jelas menikmati itu, mata cokelat berkedip.
"Aku punya sedikit pagi bencana. Ini tidak akan terjadi lagi, "kataku, lega bahwa suaraku keluar stabil. Saya belum pernah terlambat, tidak hanya sekali, tapi biarkan dia untuk membuat hal itu pertama kali terjadi. Aku berhasil menyelinap melewatinya, meletakkan tas dan mantel di lemari saya, dan kekuatan komputer saya. Aku mencoba untuk bertindak seperti dia tidak berdiri di ambang pintu, mengawasi setiap gerakan saya buat.
"'Bencana pagi' cukup deskripsi yang tepat untuk apa yang saya harus berurusan dengan tanpa kehadiran anda. Saya berbicara dengan Alex Schaffer pribadi untuk memuluskan fakta bahwa ia tidak mendapatkan kontrak yang ditandatangani ketika berjanji: 09:00, waktu Pantai Timur. Aku harus menelepon Madeline Beaumont pribadi untuk membiarkan dia tahu kami berada, pada kenyataannya, akan melanjutkan dengan proposal seperti yang tertulis. Dengan kata lain, saya sudah melakukan pekerjaan Anda dan saya pagi ini. Tentunya, bahkan dengan 'pagi bencana' Anda dapat mengelola 08:00? Beberapa dari kita bangun dan mulai bekerja sebelum jam makan siang.
"Aku melirik ke arahnya, berlawanan saya, mencolok, lengan menyeberang yang lebar dada-dan semua karena saya terlambat satu jam. Aku berkedip pergi, sangat sengaja tidak menatap jalan gelap disesuaikan jas membentang di bahunya. Saya telah membuat kesalahan dengan mengunjungi gym hotel selama konvensi bulan pertama kami bekerja bersama-sama dan berjalan di untuk menemukan dia berkeringat dan bertelanjang dada sebelah treadmill. Dia memiliki wajah yang setiap model laki-laki akan membunuh untuk dan rambut paling luar biasa yang pernah saya lihat pada seorang pria. Baru kacau rambut. Itulah yang gadis-gadis bawah menyebutnya, dan menurut mereka, itu diterima judulnya. Citra dirinya menyeka dadanya dengan kemejanya selamanya dibakar ke dalam otak saya.
Tentu saja, ia harus merusaknya dengan membuka mulutnya: "Ini bagus untuk melihat Anda akhirnya mengambil minat dalam kebugaran fisik Anda, Miss Mills. "Bajingan." Maaf, Pak Ryan, "kataku dengan hanya sedikit gigitan. "Saya memahami beban saya ditempatkan pada Anda dengan membuat Anda mengelola mesin fax dan mengambil telepon. Seperti yang saya sebutkan, itu tidak akan terjadi lagi. "" Kau benar, tidak akan, "jawabnya, tersenyum sombong tegas di tempat. Kalau saja dia akan tutup mulut, dia akan menjadi sempurna. Sepotong lakban akan melakukan trik. Aku punya beberapa di meja saya bahwa saya akan sesekali menarik keluar dan menggerayangi, berharap suatu hari nanti aku bisa memanfaatkannya baik. "Dan hanya sehingga Anda tidak membiarkan kejadian ini untuk menyelinap memori Anda, saya ingin melihat penuh tabel status proyek Schaffer, Colton, dan Beaumont di meja saya dengan lima. Dan kemudian Anda akan membuat jam hilang pagi ini dengan melakukan presentasi papan tiruan dari akun Papadakis bagi saya di ruang konferensi di enam. Jika Anda akan mengelola akun ini, Anda akan membuktikan kepada saya bahwa Anda tahu apa sih yang Anda lakukan. "Mataku melebar saat aku melihat dia berpaling, membanting pintu kantornya di belakangnya. Dia tahu betul bahwa saya lebih cepat dari jadwal dengan proyek ini, yang juga menjabat sebagai tesis MBA saya. Aku masih memiliki bulan untuk menyelesaikan slide saya setelah kontrak ditandatangani. . . yang mereka weren't-mereka tidak bahkan telah disusun sepenuhnya. Sekarang, dengan segala sesuatu yang lain di piring, dia ingin aku menyusun presentasi papan tiruan di. . . Aku melihat jam tanganku. Besar, tujuh setengah jam, jika saya melewatkan makan siang. Aku membuka file Papadakis dan turun untuk itu.





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