“Why do you ask?” The problem with implementing a sort of test where you assumed the person being questioned would lie is that you didn’t think that far ahead. I had no idea what to say now.“Oh um, well we’re friends, just thought you should know. I mentioned this crazy proposition and she well she knew you, which I mean small world right?”I was rambling, I was nervous, and I didn’t know why.“Not particularly, I already knew that you were friends,” he said so casually as though it wasn’t incredibly weird for him to know so much about me.“I mean- wha-how?” I sputtered.“I make sure that I know all about my prospective employees,”“You’ve been planning this for a while haven’t you Mr Emerson, it wasn’t an accident that you were in that restaurant on the day I was left in charge, so tell me,” I leaned forward bracing my hands against his desk, “How long has this been going on?”“A while,” he drawled as though it was completely normal.“And how long is a while?”“Two and a half years,
“That was uncalled for,” I half yelled the culmination of frustration and exhaustion rippling off of each word, “You could have warned me,”He regarded me carefully before he finally responded, in that ever-cool, elusive tone, “And why ever would I do that?”I glared at him, “Because my douche of an ex-fiancé just walked in and tried to tell me what I can and can’t do with my life. And if I hadn’t slapped him he would have kissed me. Where is HR when you need them?”“He’s neither an employee nor a client, HR can do nothing for you, Miss Laurence.”“That’s not the point!” I threw my hands up exasperated and quite ready to throw my chair at his perfect window. Smashing the glass to pieces because I had a taste for destruction after that encounter. I could still feel the sting on the palm of my hand, which I didn't care about if my hand was hurting, his face sure was. And I still had a drop of blood on my pinky nail, spoils of war I would call it.“And what a mighty fine display of femin
I had come to the conclusion I really, really despised Kendal Groves, which you may say is unfair given the fact I haven’t met her. But rearranging all the important documents that belonged to Corbyn Emerson just to be petty, knowing damn well that he wasn’t going to fix them himself and was just dooming her replacement with the laborious task of making sure everything was once again in the correct order.Sure, she wouldn’t have known it would be me, but it’s the principle of it, by trying to get back at Mr Emerson she just made some poor PA’s life harder, whilst she shared all her secrets with Artymov and Co.It took hours, and I mean hours, this was supposed to be a 9 to 5, well 8 to 5 in Mr Emerson’s case, but it was getting close to 8 and I still hadn’t moved from the store room, a large number of files divided by client and date, the British Date, in tall piles that needed to stay in that exact order or I would go insane.I had spent at least 6 hours, in this cramped space, tryin
I always thought that expensive cars were supposed to be comfortable. I guess it wasn’t really the car that was making me uncomfortable, it was the icicle of a person beside me. I felt like melting into the seat, disappearing into refined leather, and upholstery. I was terrified that my shoes would scuff the glove compartment or nick the edge of the seatbelt, fraying it. “What is the matter, Miss Laurence?” he finally broke the silence. He didn’t listen to the radio or music, it was absolute silence, and on top of the car being expensive, it was a hybrid which meant I couldn’t even distract myself with the purr of the engine. This was probably the only time I cursed someone’s environmental awareness.“Nothing,” I tried to keep my voice light, but my fists were curling beneath the seat, tension rippling through them.“I do not appreciate liars, Miss Laurence, you would do well to remember that,”“Why does everything you say sound like a threat?” I quizzed him. The best way to distr
“You don’t have to walk me to my door, you know that right?” My voice was back to its peppy tone, a little like I was tipsy but I was just tired. Drunk on work, I wasn’t much of a drinker, I hated the idea of not being able to control myself, or remember what had happened. That was one of my greatest fears.“I feel obliged to,” he spoke carefully in a much softer tone as though he didn’t want to scare me. I hated that I had cried, it was pathetic totally and utterly.“So I’m an obligation now, you really do know how to make a girl feel special,”He gave me a look that couldn’t be more disapproving if he tired. A permanently etched-on, half smile that wasn’t a smile. If that made any sense.So he walked me to my door, and not just that, he didn’t just stop and the gate that led to my flat, he continued following me up to my floor.I mean I couldn’t just tell him to get lost, that would be rude. “Do you live alone Miss Laurence?”“You sure that information isn’t in that file you defini
“YOU’RE ALIVE!” I don’t think there has ever been a day gone by since Tobias and I met that he hasn’t shouted something absurd. But I loved that about him.“No thanks to you,” I teased, it was the early morning, and there weren’t many customers at the restaurant it was more of a lunch and dinner venue anyways so I thought I’d pop by to make sure that Tobias hadn’t burnt the place down.He grinned at me, leaning against the counter, “You want to know something awesome?”“When have I ever been anyone to say no to awesomeness,” I chided and his smile just widened.“I passed the LNAT, I’m officially going to go to law school, get that degree and kick some ass like you.”“That’s amazing!” I gushed genuinely proud of him, this had been his dream forever, “But what do you mean like me, I’m not a lawyer.”“Yeah, but your really great at breaking boundaries, you know women in business, must be hard.”“Then what are you worried about?” the concern was fragrant in my voice, as his face fell dipp
I was so grateful I wasn’t in my stalker's shoes at the moment. If looks could kill, scratch that if looks could obliterate into nothingness, the man in the leather jacket would have been pulverised by now.I tried to focus on that more than the insults about me not putting effort into the way I look and lacking confidence. I mean it was kinda true but right now I wanted to see just how angry Mr Emerson the walking stone could be.“I mean no harm mate,” the man spoke almost hurriedly, his voice a sort of gravelly tone like he had chain-smoked a hundred cigarettes before trying to grab me off the street and do God knows what with me.“Mate? I am far from your mate, and I would advise you to leave before Security has to get involved.”“Security isn’t going to scare me man,” he sort of puffed his chest out, trying to be all masculine but the little machoness he had summoned was destroyed by a single scalding look from my boss, and his blistering declaration, “Oh the security would have t
It was needless to say I was the pettiest person out there. After my revelation and psychoanalysis of Mr Emerson how it was his own guilt pushing him to do absolutely absurd things. I had marched myself into my office, and half slammed the door.I couldn’t commit to a full slam because you know it’s glass, and I don’t want to shatter something. Especially when that something, is the only thing separating our two offices.I was playing the silent game, I wasn't going to talk to him until he got his shit together and realised what an awful idea it was to test me like that. I’m a corporate assistant not part of MI-5, for goodness sake. I shouldn’t be worrying about being tailed. I was shuffling through the papers left on my desk, some needed me to enter data into the unified cloud server that was fortified and held most of the clients’ information. Though, Mr Emerson was extra safe with more sensitive pieces of data. Paper always was safer than anything electrical. It would be terribly