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."

June

“Morning sir.” I say, holding the elevator doors open for Mr. Smith who makes his way in after me.

“Miss Selwyn. How was your first day with us?” He asks as the elevators make their way up.

“Honestly, it couldn’t have gone worse. Mr. Hall sent me home in a rage.” I reply and he turns to me with a highly quizzical brow.

“No way.”

“I’m serious.” I reply.

“Pardon his manners, he has so much to take care of in a day and doesn’t handle any hitch to his schedule well.” Mr. Smith says. Why couldn’t my so-called boss be as reasonable and approachable as this man?

“I was trying to help! I was taking coffee to his client when he suddenly went ballistic.” I say with a sigh of exasperation.

“Umm, that doesn’t sound right.” He says, scratching his brow lightly.

“It’s what happened. Mr. Phineas was nowhere to be found so I was taking the refreshment tray to Mr. Ramsay, what else was I to do?”

“Oh.” Mr. Smith says with a frown. “You don’t interrupt his meetings with Mr. Ramsay, ever. Did I not include that in your guide?”

“No.” I deadpan. How am I supposed to keep up when there are so many rules and they keep adding new secret ones?

“An oversight on my part. I’ll speak to him on your behalf.”

“I’d appreciate that.” I reply with a smile. The smile dies when we get off the elevator and I remember the real reason I’m here. Will he become jobless once I kill his boss? I quickly shove the thoughts into a box and slam it shut. I’ll cross that bridge later.

Fortunately for me, I don’t have time to wallow in my dark thoughts because once again, I find myself simmering in anger.

Mr. Hall hasn’t picked a single call of mine, Mr. Phineas is taking the refreshment trays in instead of me, and twice now my “boss” has called to request for coffee but he called Mr. Phineas’s desk! I sit at my desk, my foot tapping impatiently as I glare daggers at his cool profile through the glass walls. I might as well be a little invisible girl.

Finally, I can’t take it anymore.

“Umm Blondie..?” Mr. Phineas asks as I storm towards his door once the next client is out. “I wouldn’t advice-“

I don’t wait to hear what a terrible idea this is as I throw his door open and he looks up from his computer with that superior glare.

“May I help you, Miss Selwyn?” He asks cooly.

“Aa a matter of fact, yes.” I reply, taking a deep breath and getting it off my chest. “I understand you don’t like me, I’m a new face, there’s some bad history between us but Mr. Hall, I’m here to work and you need to let me work.”

“What else do you think you are doing here?”

“I don’t know!” I say, throwing my hands in the air, irritated by his stupid perfect face. “I’ve sat on that desk all morning idle and useless while you field away all my calls. If this is about yesterday, I’m sorry! I was just trying to help.”

“I don’t care about your intentions, Miss Selwyn.” He says, rising to his full impressive height. He didn’t raise his voice but he doesn’t need to. “I care about your actions, their consequences. You want to work for me?” He slowly strides towards me, a hand in his pocket, a dangerous predator stalking prey. “I demand efficiency, perfection. Can you give it to me?”

“Yes!” I emphasize. “But you need to let me do my work!”

“You want to work so badly?” He asks and the smile on his face sends a warning tingle down my spine.

“Yes…?”

He grabs a tall sheaf of papers from the desk behind him and dumps it on my arm, making me stagger with the weight.

“Then work.” He replies and I stare at him in disbelief. “Everything here needs to be logged in in… three hours.”

“What?!” I gape at the enormous stack that should take a full day to log.

“What? Is the work too much for you-“

“No.” I cut him off, gripping the stack protectively as I bare my teeth in a smile. “I’ll have them logged in record time.”

“Three hours.” He replies, baring his teeth in response.

“Yes sir.” I say and turn to leave.

“You know what happens if you fail right?” He asks and I pause. He has a shit-eating smile on his face, and he would have been heart-stoppingly handsome if he wasn’t radiating pure evil. “You’re fired.”

There it goes- the catch. I presented the opportunity and he found a way to get rid of me. The devil. Another woman would fall into despair but not even heavenly forces could ruin this job for me.

I bare my teeth in reply. “Noted sir.”

Mr. Phineas tuts in disapproval as I come back out.

“Are you trying to find the fastest route to unemployment?” He asks as I sit at my desk and crack my fingers.

“On the contrary, I’m trying to keep this job.” I say and grab the first folder.

“Are you supposed to log all of that in today?” He asks, coming over and flipping through them with obvious distaste.

“In three hours.” I reply and he exclaims.

“What?!”

I stretch my wrists, then set my timer.

“Do you need help?” He asks, grabbing the next folder and I stop him with an arm.

“I’ve got this.” I tell him.

Then I set my fingers on the keyboard and let them fly.

Time passes but I’m not fully aware of it. It’s just me and the tall sheaf of papers that I burn through with inhuman speed. Mr. Phineas sets coffee down on my table a few times and I chug them down each time. Clients go in and out, my fingers start to strain and my neck feels like it has acquired a permanent crick and yet, on I work. At a point, my neck prickles and I glance up to find Mr. Hall staring at me through the glass doors. My heart leaps into my throat and I check the time- one more hour left. It’s been two hours and I’ve logged more than half of the stack— to Mr. Phineas’ ongoing disbelief. I meet my evil boss’s eyes and smile, wiggle my fingers at him and just barely resist blowing him a kiss before I set my jaw and get back to work. He thought he found an easy way to get rid of me? As if. I’m a girl that has pulled a hundred odd jobs to get my sister the medicine she needs, I became a walking typewriter a few years back when I pulled two jobs as a daytime secretary and a nighttime bartender.

Finally, I punch in the last word and Mr. Phineas explodes into applause behind me, startling me out of my reverie.

“You did it!” He exclaims excitedly. “You actually did it!”

I grin and stand, my bones groaning appreciatively with the change in position as I stretch. Three minutes on the clock.

“I’m sure I just set a new record.” I say appreciatively.

“Girl! You are fucking awesome.” He gives me a resounding high-five and the tingling at my neck lets me know Mr. Hall’s eyes are on me. I smile as I make my way back into his office where he folds his arms and watches me.

“It’s done.” I say, setting the pile of papers back on his desk, to a highly quizzical brow.

“All fifteen of the folders?” He asks.

“Every last one.” I reply, a little too smugly.

“Without mistakes?”

“Why don’t you open your computer and find out yourself?” I ask, placing a hand on my hip and staring him down with a triumphant smile on my lips. Silence stretches between us and my smile grows wider. He would never admit underestimating me.

“Discard the papers.” He says finally and my smile dims. I’m not sure what I was expecting but the dismissal is not it. I grab them anyway and leave.

“And Miss Selwyn?” He asks when I’m at the door.

“Yes?!” I answer a little too enthusiastically.

“Send the next client in… with refreshments.” He says and I break into a big grin.

“Yes sir.” I reply.

“I brought you lunch.” Mr. Phineas says an hour later.

He was all too happy to hand over my duties and go for his lunch break while I was here with my boss who I’m realizing misses lunch more often than he doesn’t.

“I could kiss you.” I reply, pulling the bag closer.

“Careful, lest I feel motivated to deliver your breakfast, lunch and dinner.” He replies and I laugh. I’ve confirmed he swings for the opposite gender so it’s nothing more than harmless flirting.

My phone rings suddenly and I pick it up and glance at Mr. Hall.

“Get me a cup of coffee.” He orders into the phone and I nearly trip over myself hurrying to do his bidding.

“Yes sir!”

He is thumbing through a folder and doesn’t look up when I put it down.

“Thank you.” He says absently and picks it up.

I take a slow bow, a quick scan of the document in front of him shows it’s not the folder I’m to retrieve. I’m just turning to leave when he hisses and stares at the cup in his hand like it offended him.

“Take it back.” He orders, setting it down. “And get my coffee right.”

“Of course!” I say, realizing I added two cubes of sugar instead of one.

“What’s wrong?” Mr. Phineas asks as he checks out. He always leaves after lunch and I wish Mr. Hall would do that too so I’ll be able to search for the document I need before it’s too late.

“Nothing.” I reply as I brew another one and grab a cup. “I added two cubes of sugar.”

“An honest mistake, I personally have no idea how anyone takes coffee with less than six cubes.” He’s trying to make me feel better so I smile.

The elevator doors open and I escort the next client in— a huge Darnish man with thick red hair and beard. I pretend I don’t see him leering at my ass.

“Ambrose! Look at you, you look even more arrogant than I remember.” The man exclaims in a boisterous voice and Mr. Hall cracks a smile as he pumps the man’s enthusiastic fist.

“Freight, you look even uglier than I remember.” Mr. Hall replies and while the man guffaws, I sneak a glance at the two of them. The ease between them suggests they are friends. “Take a seat.”

Gingerly, I step forward to set the cup of coffee down when I see the Darnish man’s hand move in my periphery. I react instinctively, the tray of coffee crashing down from my fingers as I spin around and grip the hand that was aimed to grope my ass, twisting it and forcing the bigger man to cry out in shock…