June

There's blood dripping from my hand with every step I track towards Adrian's office but the blood is not mine. The workers on this floor plaster to the wall when I pass, prim Annabel even makes the sign of the cross on her chest as if to ward me off and a trickle of dark humour warms my chest, not enough to bring a smile to my face. If she warded off her husband everytime he brought his AIDs-infested cock to her every night, perhaps she would stop losing weight rapidly and thinking it's her diet.

Knowing everybody's business is my business, doing something about it is not but perhaps I'll slip the secret test result her husband conducted two years ago into her bag today. Oh, to be a fly on the wall when the realization strikes. I don't spare her another glance as I stride for the looming door and shove it open without bothering to knock.

Adrian looks up from his computer, a frown marring his forehead from my obvious lack of propriety but he of everyone knows that manners and propriety is the farthest thing on my mind. 

I walk forward and drop the bloody severed finger on his table, staining a piece of paper while the heavy diamond ring still stuck on the now-swelling digit twinkles. The owner is still alive though he probably wishes he was not, as the ring on the finger he lost is worth more than his life.

"How many times will I change my desk because of you?" Adrian asks but there's no real ire in his voice as the older man grabs a pair of black gloves, his eyes twinkling brighter than the diamond as he eyes the ring hungrily.

"Congrats, you get to keep this one as long as you wish." I reply sardonically.

He peers deeply at the ring and then flicks something that pops it open.

"Ah, there it is." He sighs, retrieving a tiny patch of powder hidden there that is surely more priceless than the heavy diamond that concealed it. I don't care.

Thirty jobs was the agreement and thirty jobs I have done, this was the last. I reminded myself of that when I sawed through my victim's chubby finger and swallowed the bile that crawled up to my throat. I'm free.

"Well, have fun with your new toy." I say, turning away, more than eager to put miles between myself and my boss. "You remember the agreement right? I'll get my sister ready for the surgery."

"Not so fast." He replies and I freeze, my heart stopping in my chest for a dreadful moment. I turn a glare on him and find him disposing of the diamond in a tray as he carefully avoids my eyes and a chill of alarm rings through me.

"What do you mean?" I bite out. "We are done."

He finally meets my eyes then and I see all I need to see. I'm the only one done with him, he isn't finished with me. The snake!

"We agreed!" I snarl, my fingers itching to go for the dagger sheathed at my waist. I dare not move a muscle, I can't trust myself not to go after him in a killing rage. "You fucking signed the contract. My sister needs that surgery."

"Calm down, June." Lucifer himself says and those words stroke the rage inside my chest to a boil. I rock back on the balls of my feet and count to ten. When I'm done, he's sitting again and I loosen the muscles of my body and prowl over to him, looming  over his desk.

"Give me one fucking reason why I shouldn't gut you where you sit." My voice comes out in a chilling rasp.

"Calm the fuck down and hear what I have to say." He hisses. "I have the cure."

Those words are like a heavy punch to my gut, knocking the breath from my lungs. I think I stagger a bit, but I catch myself on his desk, focused on the sick growing smile on his face.

"What did you just say?" I ask.

"You heard me right." Adrian says with a smug smile that says he knows he has me where he needs me. "What were the odds Dr. Leander gave your sister even with the surgery again? Twenty percent odds? The cure is hundred percent."

I'm shaking, a feeling of surrealism descending over me. I feel like if I dare to speak, this office will dissolve into a bittersweet dream that I'll be forced to wake up from.

"Are you fucking with me?" I ask and he says nothing. He doesn't need to, those clear blue eyes speak volume.

The cure exists. A manic laughter bubbles in my chest and I tamp it down harshly. I'm good at that, tamping down emotions. It is all I have done ever since my sister ingested a poison she never should have been exposed to and developed a rare, fatal and incurable complication. Ever since my sister started dying, I wanted to scream and rage and burn the world and everything in it down but for her, I appear as cool as a cucumber, lending her strength where hers is failing. Now Adrian says there's a cure?

"What do I have to do?" I ask, my voice hoarse from suppressing my emotions.

"One more job." He says.

"Done." I reply.

"Not so fast." He says again and pulls out a file, dumping it in front of me and turning to the first page. The man that looks out from the page looks like an arrogant bastard, it's there in the way he stares down the camera- as if everything in the world is beneath him. "He has something you must retrieve and once you do, you must kill him."

I flinch back as if I was struck and my skin is prickling, my eyes burning when I turn my glare back to Adrian.

"You know my rules." I hiss. "No death."

"I believe this is a special occasion that calls for special changes to your 'rules' don't you think?" He asks, stippling his fingers together and returning my glare.

My ear pops with pressure and I stagger back a step. There is the sound of screaming but I think it's just my mind. I flit through all the possibilities like a rat stuck in a maze. No death, I will not kill anyone but on the other hand, it's this stranger's life for my sister's. Will Adrian give the job to another if I refuse? Most likely. There are many others that will take it without questions, many of who will make this man beg for death. I can make it quick for him, painless even and his death will not be in vain. I cannot let someone else take my sister's one chance at life.

My mind settles, a terrible calm coming over me as everything shifts into perspective. I suck in a long steadying breath and meet Adrian's expectant gaze as I pick the file up.

"He's mine." I say and he breaks into a jovial grin.

"If it makes you feel better, this is the man that made sure H&K walked free." Adrian adds.

That's the company that ruined me and my sister's life. My fingers tighten on the file and a smile pulls at my lips.

"Then consider him already dead." I reply and he grins, clearly pleased with my reply.

~~~

The temperature of the shower is up to nearly scalding as I stand underneath it, letter the deluge of water and heat wash away the grime and dirt of the sins I've committed in the night. I can still hear the man screaming as his finger came off, taste the bitter acidity of bile at the back of my throat. It took me a while to locate that one. Ingenious really, to hide his most valuable asset in his wedding ring but the ring could have been in the Amazon forest and I would have found it.

Outside, my door beeps loudly and opens, followed by footsteps and I don't bother asking who it is.

"Did you bring dinner?" I call out because I left the bathroom door open but he doesn't answer. I turn off the scalding faucet and step out, avoiding my eyes in the mirror as I wrap myself in a towel.

Ryder is holding the file I left on the table and his expression is dark as he turns to me.

"What is this?" He snarls. "I thought you did your last job."

"I did." I reply, patting my hair dry with the smaller towel.

"Well this doesn't look like it." He snaps.

When I'm done telling him everything, he blows out a long breath and I allow him a minute to digest it all.

"That fucking bastard!!!" He explodes, the file scrunching in his fist. "I'll fucking kill him."

"Not before I get Evelyn's cure." I reply, dragging the box of take-out he brought closer. Chinese, nice.

"How are you so calm about this? He wants you to kill someone!" Ryder growls and I wince and look to the window.

"Louder, I can think of no better way to spend my evening than explaining to the police that 'kill someone' is our bedroom code."

"I'm serious June!" He snaps. "Tell him, you can't do this job."

A flash of anger surges through me, incinerating my own fear and shame and hesitancy. "Don't you dare tell me what I can or cannot do." I hiss. "I will do 'anything' if it gives my sister a chance at life. You think I'm overjoyed at this? I hate it Ryder. But if I need to kill this one man in exchange for my sister's life, who are you to tell me I can't?"

I don't like how shaken I feel, how exposed. I stand, my back ramrod straight as I walk to my cabinet and pull out a bottle of wine, trying to breathe through the cocktail of emotions choking me up. When I turn back around, I'm more in control of myself.

"You're right, it's not my place." Ryder says slowly through the hard clench of his jaw.

I draw in a long fortifying breath. "I need you now more than ever, Ryder." I whisper, clasping my fingers tightly together.

Silence stretches between us with the weight of my request. I'm asking him to help me one more time,

as he has helped me through most of my jobs, but this time I'm asking him to be my accomplice to murder. I feel wretched and wicked to ask this of him but I press my lips together and wait for his reply. Finally, he sighs.

"You know I will always have your back." He replies. "Anything you need."

I exhale shakily and smile. "He'll need a new personal assistant soon, make sure I'm the peak candidate." I say, handing him the file.

June

I'm hitting my maximum speed, my power bike tearing down the cramped lane as cars swerve to avoid me. Things are not going according to plan at all but I don't let myself get discouraged. In fact, I usually leave the detailed planning to Ryder because I'm the type to wing it which is why when I woke up today and found that the laundromat had somehow burned my only suit, I could have crashed out but rather decided to bike the ten kilometers to the mall through heavy traffic and pick a random suit with the best fit. But now, I'm running late and it's not a good look for my first day. I already had a virtual interview with the executive assistant over the weekend which went so well he asked to me to resume as the temporary personal assistant right away but nothing is set in stone. What if he changes his mind because of my tardiness?

Traffic is tight but that's exactly why I didn't take a taxi. I dial the speed of my power bike even higher, the wind at my back as I zip between cars but I'm going at such a terrible speed that when an impatient black Mercedes suddenly tries to change lane, I have no time at all to avoid the collision.

I swerve, trying to avoid the worst of it but the collision throws me off the bike and I hit the tarred road a moment later, causing several cars to jerk to a stop to avoid crushing me.

My shoulder took the hit and I grimace with pain as I get back to my feet, yank my helmet off and storm towards the impatient jackass that nearly got me killed. The culprit gets out of his car, not a hint of concern on the hard lines of his face as he glances cooly at me and my fallen bike from behind his sunshades.

"Are you okay?" He asks.

"You didn't think of that when you suddenly went swerving from one lane to another?" I snarl, my hands balling into angry fists. My morning was already bad enough but now, I have a real life target to heap my frustrations on.

"There was nothing sudden about that, I indicated for ages. You would have seen it if you weren't going at such a ridiculous speed."

"Well, you would have seen me coming in your fucking rear-view mirrors if you'd taken one second to check but what should I expect from someone that's obviously drunk and driving? I'm reporting your drunk ass." I say, fishing around for my phone.

"Excuse me?" He says and I pause to throw a sneer his way.

"Sunshades this early in the morning, Tom Cruise? I'm going to call the cops on you before you become even more of a public menace." But I'm painfully aware that time is not on my side as I pull out my phone, my scowl turning dark when I find the screen shattered. I couldn't call the cops if I wanted to, even if nothing would be give me bigger satisfaction than watching his arrogant ass get hauled away. "Fucking hell." I mutter, staring at my busted phone.

"Just ridiculous. You should go to the hospital and get yourself checked, my insurance will be in touch. Give me your number." He says and pulls out his card.

I take the insurance card and while he watches, I tear it into two and let it fall to the ground.

"Let's never cross paths again or I'll make you regret it." I say and turn away, hurrying for my bike where a concerned elderly man has helped me right it up.

"Thank you!" I say and take it from him, climbing back on and praying nothing is broken as I zoom away to work. A glance at my rearview mirror shows the man still standing beside his car as impatient drivers honk around him, his eyes concealed behind his shades as he watches me go. I flip him off before I disappear completely. He looked vaguely familiar though I can't place him at the moment but with that broad-shouldered physique, polished appearance and expensive car, he's likely a not-so-famous actor. Whatever.

~~~

"It's unfortunate that both Alice and our usual temp had to get sick at the same time but until she gets better, you will fill the role as Mr. Hall's personal assistant. Make sure he lacks for nothing, make sure he is not late to meetings, I sent a comprehensive list of your duties to your mail, I assume you checked it?" Mr. Corey Smith, Mr. Hall's executive assistant asks and I nod enthusiastically.

"Every word of it." I reply.

"This will be your office, your desk." He indicates as a thin, stylish man with a mohawk-type of hair, brilliant blue shirt and skinny pants walks up. "And you'll be walking closely with Mr. Phineas, his lifestyle manager."

"New hands? Whatever happened to Alice?" The colorful guy asks.

"Got sick. I got a temp to take over until she's better."

"Well hello, gorgeous. I won't get tired to staring at this one all day." He shakes my hand and stares at me dreamily. "Are those cheekbones real? Have you have lip fillers? Lash extensions?"

I retrieve my hand from his energetic grasp. "Nope, sorry to disappoint."

"No way, these are natural?" He asks, his jaw dropping dramatically. "Babygirl, you should be on the cover of Vogue or something, I feel like I should get an autograph saying I discovered her."

He reaches for my face and I stiffen, tamping down my instant recoil and distaste for alien touch but thankfully, Mr. Smith snags the offending arm before it can reach me.

"Give her space, don't smother her and force me to find a temp for the temp we just got. I'll literally bury you if I have to go through a hundred of those files again." He warns and the elevator dings.

"Ah, work begins. Everyone, in position." Mr. Smith orders.

The elevator doors open and out walks the man I crashed into this morning. My jaw drops and he's on his phone as he walks forward but he suddenly stills and looks up and our gazes clash. I feel faint again and surreptitiously pinch myself. No, I'm not imagining this and yes, I think I'm fired before I ever started the job.

"Morning." Mr. Smith says cheerfully. "I think I just won last night's bet on who gets to the office first. We'll discuss my hard-earned leave later. Meet Miss June Selwyn, your temp... is it just me, Mr. Phineas or do these two know each other?"

"That definitely looks like some history." Mr. Phineas adds, planting a hand on his hip dramatically.

I've not moved a muscle and neither has he. In a humiliating flush, I'm reliving the entire encounter this morning and my rudeness. Not a not-so-famous actor then... how could I have failed to recognize that arrogant chiseled jaw? I was never supposed to meet him again, definitely not as my new boss. Slowly, the corners of his lips tilt but his eyes remain hard, punishing.

"She's fired." He declares and heads for his office. "Tell Alice to resume as soon as possible."

"Uhhhh..." Mr. Smith looks at me and I deflate. There's no digging myself out of this pit. He sighs and heads after him. "I literally hand-picked her. Alice's doctor said she won't be here for at least a week-"

That's the last I hear before the door shuts and cuts off his voice but I can see through the glass walls to where Ambrose Hall, my target walks in long unhurried strides to his large round desk, taking off his jacket and hanging it up before sitting in his high-backed chair without a care in the world.

"What did you do to get him that pissed?" Mr. Phineas asks, coming to stand beside me and I shrug miserably.

"Bashed his car this morning." I reply.

"No way, that's rotten luck." He says and I wonder what he would say if I gave him the whole detail. "But don't worry, there's only one person that dares to talk sense to him and that's Mr. Smith."

"I hope so." I reply. "I need this job."

More than anything else in the world, more than my own life, I need this job.

Mr. Hall glances at me through the glass and my breath freezes as our gazes clash again. Mr. Smith is still talking to him but I can see it in those startling grey eyes that he is not the forgiving type. This is the end of the road for me. And then he grabs a remote control and holding my eyes, presses it and the glass turns dark.

"Well well, gotta say, it ain't looking good." Mr. Phineas says and a load of nervous energy makes me start pacing. I can't fail before I even started. Once I report inability to infiltrate, I will be taken off the job. Granted, I can find another way in but with my face now known around here, that's a hundred times harder. Perhaps I could be their repair man coming to fix something on his computer? No, I shake my head— if I'm caught, that's an immediate bust. Or maybe a leaky roof? I groan internally. No, the chances of a successful operation is highest after a successful initial infiltration. Anything after that is just desperation.

The door opens and I spin around, my heart in my throat and then it sinks to my toes when I see the expression on Mr. Smith's face. My desperation propels me forward and he's obviously surprised as I pull the door all the way open and storm inside.

"Hey, you can't-" Mr. Smith begins.

"One week." I say, coming to a stop in front of Mr. Hall's desk.

He relaxes back into his seat and raises a perfectly sculpted brow.

"I need this job, sir. Just one week and you can decide my fate then, whether I stay or go." I say in a rush, not daring to look away from him to see if Mr. Smith has called security to cart me out.

"Get her out of my office." He says, ignoring me and talking to Mr. Smith whose fingers wrap around my arm a moment later.

"I thought this was a professional space!" I hiss, resisting Mr. Smith. "How professional is letting your personal prejudice against me keep me from getting a job I'm obviously qualified for?"

"My personal prejudice?" He asks, coldly looking me over from head to toe. "What was it you said? I would regret it if we ever met again? Why should I give you any chance to make do on that promise?"

Because I need to take his life for my sister to live. He would regret meeting me again afterall.

"I was obviously not in the right head space. I had a shitty morning, was running late and it all got worse when you hit me." I say, defending myself.

"Precisely, you wouldn't be in such a tight spot if there was no work to get to right? Leave before I call security."

"Ma'am, follow me." Mr. Smith's pull is now hard to resist and my chance narrows the closer the exit door looms.

"What are you afraid of?" I yell, resisting Mr. Smith's efforts. "Afraid I'll actually be good at my job and prove you wrong?"

"No." He replies, the picture of calm while I'm practically fighting for my life here. "I have an aversion to nasty, bad-tempered, ill-mannered brats. That's why you are not getting the job."

"One week!" I insist, now at the door and I grab the edges with both hands and hang on while Mr. Smith curses and tries to pry me off. "Just one week and if you still hate my guts, you can tell me to leave and I'll go without another word."

"For fuck's sake, she's stronger than she looks." Mr. Smith groans as he finally pries one hand off the door.

Mr. Hall holds up a hand suddenly and we all freeze. Then he folds his arms and my heart pounds as I wait.

"You have three days." He says finally and I nearly collapse with relief.

"Thank you!" I gasp out and Mr. Smith finally releases me. "Your magnanimity knows no bounds."

"I know. Now out." He orders and I'm only too eager to shut the door behind me.

Three days then, to find the priceless information he's hiding and kill him. Piece of cake.

June

After a thorough scrutiny of my obligations as Mr. Hall's PA, I've decided the position is nothing more than being a glorified butler. I'm not even in charge of his schedule, that's already created by Mr. Smith, my job is more of a 'Yes, come in. Time's up. Are you hungry?'

He and Mr. Smith left for the Intelligence briefing after he ordered me to stay put. I finish going through his schedule and sneak a glance at Mr. Phineas who I'm sharing an office with. He is grinning ear to ear as he taps away at his phone, unknowingly preventing me from sneaking into Mr. Hall's office to start the search for the file I'm to retrieve. He notices my attention and looks up.

"How are you holding up, Blondie?" He has called me everything but my name in the past thirty minutes and it seems Blondie is the one that'll stick.

"He works from 8 in the morning till 10 at night?" I muse. Why such a workaholic? That also makes my job harder.

"Yup." Mr. Phineas replies with a smack of his lips. "But don't you worry your pretty head, it's still the easiest job out there. You just do your part and everything moves like a well-oiled machine."

I smile at him, hoping I look reassured as he gets a call that I'm pretty sure is from his girlfriend... or boyfriend and he heads to his restroom. Just then, the elevator dings open and Mr. Hall strolls in. He doesn't spare me a glance and I peek at him through my lashes until he vanishes behind his door.

Objectively, I've never seen a more beautiful man. He stands at around six seven inches with broad chiseled shoulders that stretch his shirt just so, every inch of him radiating power and control. His face is startlingly handsome— perfectly sculpted brows, piercing gray eyes that look like they see straight into your soul, an aristocrat nose bridge, a jawline so defined it looks like it could cut diamonds— all combine into a face that no one would forget even with a single glance. There isn't a single touch of softness on him, expect perhaps his lips.

I'm startled out of my musings by the blaring of the phone and it's the front desk confirming his first meeting of the day.

"Let me get back to you." I reply after confirming the appointment.

I replace the phone and stare at the still-dark walls of his office, wondering what now. I should let him know the client is here. I dial his office and he picks on the first ring.

"Your first client Mrs. London is downstairs." I say and the next moment, I hear the beep clearly indicating the line is disconnected. I stare at the phone in disbelief.

"Huh?" Maybe there was a glitch in the network.

I dial again and he picks on the first ring.

"Did you hear me? You are scheduled to meet with her by 10am." I say and the line drops again.

The telephone groans in my clenched fist. Oh that was definitely intentional, and extremely low of him to sink to that level of pettiness. Ignoring me, really? Let's see how much he can ignore me when I'm in his face.

I slam the receiver down and march to his door, knocking once before entering. He is frowning down at a piece of paper on his desk and he looks up when I enter, stopping me in my tracks with his sardonic gaze.

"Can I help you?" He asks.

"I'm not sure you heard me clearly. You have a client scheduled for 10am waiting downstairs, are you ready to meet with them?" I ask, my irritation creeping into my voice to my utter chagrin. I'll really have to put a better act if I want him to let his guard down but I've never seen a more perfectly infuriating face!

"Are you from a backwater village in Africa?" He asks suddenly, throwing me off.

"Uhhh no."

"Then why are you announcing my schedule in person? Would you like a microphone? Or do you think the telephone on your table is for aesthetics?" He asks in a very level voice and I feel myself deflate.

"No but... you didn't reply me." I argue and he leans back into his seat, an amused tilt to his lips that does nothing to help the glacial energy between us.

"Am I obligated to reply you?" He asks.

"Uhh no." I reply, clearing my throat.

"Who's the boss here, Miss Selwyn?" He asks, eyes twinkling with evil.

"You are." I manage in a grumble and he huffs.

"Then get out. Send them in, and don't make me see you any more than necessary or you're fired." He orders.

I manage not to slam his door, barely.

"You do not look too good." Mr. Phineas remarks, now sitting cross-legged behind his desk. I don't answer him as I take my seat, my teeth grinding with infuriation as I make the call to send the client up.

And so my day goes. I might as well be a fly on the wall, or a bug under his shoes, or a speck of dirt on his desk for all the attention he pays me. All morning, he manages to avoid saying another word to me; not when I call to remind him the appointed time is over, or when I send his next client in, or when I serve the light refreshment Mr. Phineas hands me for each client.

"How did he take it?" Mr. Phineas asks immediately I step back out, startling me. 

"How did who take what?"

"The chocolates, how did Mr. Boyl take them?" He asks with a suffering sigh.

"He... smiled?" I ask and Mr. Phineas pumps his hand in the air.

"Jackpot!"

He sees me looking and chuckles.

"You don't think my only job is choosing which tie perfectly matches Mr. Hall's skin tone and the season, do you? You've gotta pay more attention to detail. That man in there? He's here to set up life insurance for his newly-wed wife who he's head over heels in love with. And guess what they ate at their multi million resort getaway right before he proposed?"

"Recchuiti chocolates?" I guess. The last tray had three of the ridiculously expensive chocolates.

"Bingo!" He says. "It's all about the little details, babygirl. Get it right and the deal is soon as sealed."

He says, an extra pump in his steps as he strolls back to his seat.

I finally understand the different platters of refreshment for every guest now— Mr. Phineas customizes them to each client's peculiar taste.

There is no serving of food for the next client, just a spritz bottle shoved into my hand with an enthusiastic order to spritz once by the window. I hear the sharp intake of air as I hold the door open for the middle-aged woman that makes her way in some moments later, and the smile that lights up her face. Slowly, I'm beginning to fully grasp everyone's role here.

That meeting takes a long while, time in which I'm able to surf through every file on my computer to make sure what I seek is not on it though the chance of that was unlikely from the start. I wait for them to be done, check my phone, wait again, check the time to see that they've used nearly all of the lunch break and I'm finally dozing off when Mr. Hall's door opens and I jump up guiltily, bashing my knee against the corner of my table. He spares me a glance that's far from impressed and escorts the client to the elevators.

"Don't send in anyone for the next thirty minutes." He orders when he comes back.

"Yes sir." I reply then I remember I'm to serve him coffee at every break. I jump up and head to the coffee maker, confirming his preference with Mr. Smith's detailed guide before heading in.

He is on his phone when I go back in, sparing me another glance before going back to it. As this is the only chance I've gotten, I scan his office with my gaze, wondering where he could have kept the file I seek. In those drawers? Somewhere amongst the books on his shelf on the other side of the room? Or is it a soft copy on his computer? I have only three days to locate it before he fires me.

Maybe it's because I was too busy eye-balling everything, the disaster happens in slow-motion. My hand hits the coffee I set in front of him and the hot liquid goes pouring all over his pants.

"What the fuck?!" He explodes, springing to his feet.

"I'm sorry!" I gasp, clasping a hand over my mouth in horror. "Oh my God I'm so sorry!"

What have I done?!!

I snatch the napkin and stumble towards him, staring at the horrible stain on his white shirt and dark pants.

"Don't fucking touch me!" He hisses and I freeze.

"I-I just wanted to..." I raise the napkin miserably but of course there's nothing I can do to salvage this.

"Don't!" He hisses. "I told you to do absolutely nothing. Why the fuck won't you listen?"

I feel myself deflate again, biting my lip as a wave of helplessness threatens to bury me alive. Why am I doing everything wrong? Why is it that I have the most important mission of my life and all I'm doing is botching it up?

"Get out!" He snarls and I jump, snatching the now-ruined tray as I scurry out of his office. Mr. Phineas is not back from his lunch break and I'm grateful for the solitude to compose myself as I clean myself up. 

"Get a grip. June." I whisper, staring at my pale reflection in the restroom mirror. So he hates me, so what? I'm not here to make friends. I just need to lock in with these silly mistakes for long enough to accomplish my mission. I take a deep breath and go back out and my desk rings immediately. 

"Send them up." I reply into the receiver.

Twenty minutes into that meeting, I'm beginning to get anxious. Mr. Phineas has still not returned from his lunch break and I don't have his personal number. He should have provided the refreshment tray for the client by now.

My knee taps anxiously and I can just imagine Mr. Hall's disapproving frown later when he's asking if I don't have the common sense to provide refreshment if Mr. Phineas is not around.

"Oh for fuck's sake!" I snarl and stand. I'll just take coffee. This time, there will be no spilling even a drop. I make my way over slowly and pull open the door but once I step in, I realize that both of the men inside are suddenly deathly-silent, looking at me and I feeeze at the threshold.

"I brought coffee." I say with all bravado I can muster.

"Did you just... interrupt my meeting?" Mr. Hall looks and sounds like he can't believe his eyes.

"She's a new one?" The client, Mr. Ramsay asks.

"Not for long." He replies and stands, his jaw clenched so tight it might as well be made of granite.

I instinctively back away as he crosses the distance to me and he pushes the door open, motioning me out. Outside, he takes a deep breath and turns to me.

"Get out, leave." He orders and my heart jumps into

my throat in a panic.

"What?"

"You are done for the day. See you tomorrow."

"But... it's just afternoon and you still have two more meeting before the end-"

"Would you like me to make it a more permanent leave?" He growls menacingly.

I tamp down my flare of irritation and set the coffee tray down, folding my arms.

"Can I at least know what I did wrong?" I ask and he stares down at me, a very impressive feat since at my six-foot height, I'm usually the one staring down at people.

"The fact that you have no idea is the reason why you will not last beyond three days." He replies and leaves.

I grab my bag, vexed as I storm away. For a first day, it could have really gone better. I have a sinking feeling the three days won't be enough.

~~~

I step into the hospital room with a bouquet of flowers and there is Alice Vaugh, Mr. Hall's former personal assistant on the hospital bed. Her colour looks green, her bones more prominent than the photos I've seen of her. It was a piece of cake for Ryder to access her medical records. Once I found out what drugs she was on, it wasn't difficult to switch out her medications to a mix of her original drugs and something else entirely— a combo not likely to kill her as long as she receives medical attention but definitely enough to keep her in the hospital for a while.

"Who are you?" She asks with a sulk, looking up from her phone.

"Hello I'm June, Mr. Hall's temporary PA." I reply and her eyes narrow on me like a cat's as she eyes me from head to toe.

"You're not the usual temp." She says and I shrug, handing over the bouquet.

"She's also unavailable I suppose."

"I told Corey I would be out of here today, what did he go ahead and get a temp for?" She hisses and I stand there awkwardly, obviously not very welcome. If she found out I put her in the hospital, her behavior now would be charming in comparison.

"Uhmm the doctor said that you would be out for a week?" I ask.

"Bullshit." She says. "I'll get the doctor to clear me for discharge by evening."

"Ohh okay." I say. "I actually came here to ask you for tips on attending Mr. Hall. If you would help me with a few pointers, I can take care of him for the rest of the week while you focus on your recovery."

"Miss Selwyn right?" She asks, leaning forward.

"Yes."

"You won't need the information on attending Mr. Hall because I'm resuming tomorrow. Seeing as you're here rather than at the office, I can tell how awful a job you did. It's fine, Mr. Hall hates new faces anyway."

"Actually, I did perfectly well which is why he asked me to take the rest of the day to rest because it's been so hectic." I lie. I wonder why I did, there's just something about her smug little face getting on my nerves.

She glares and I smile at her sweetly.

"But well, if you think you can resume tomorrow I suppose I'll let him know. I do wish you a quick recovery." I say and leave her behind.

I walk to the elevator and wait after pressing the button. A moment later, a small waif-like woman presses the button on the next elevator.

"She wants to be discharged today." I tell her, my voice lower than a murmur. "Give her a larger dose."

"Could kill her." Nurse Daisy replies.

"Make sure it doesn't."