Dieforme,Mr.Hall

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.