I walked between the oppressing mahogany doors, taking a deep breath and composing my face into a scowl. They like it better if you scowl. I aimed for the high-backed leather chair, designed to make you feel uncomfortable, trapped by it’s arms. Instead, I slid into it sideways and flung my legs nonchalantly over the armrest. These guys sure know how to do dramatic, luckily so do I.
I assumed a bored expression, inside I was starting to get anxious. Studying my nails I surreptitiously took in the shattered coffee table – the one my lovely colleague had taken home a souvenir of – and blood spatter that looked suspiciously like arterial spray. Maybe I had more to worry about than I thought. I dismissed that thought as quickly as it came, I’m their favourite operative, at least I keep telling myself that.
“Quite comfortable are we?” I jumped at the voice, I couldn’t process why it had came from behind me. “My dear girl, you are losing your touch. You didn’t scout the room as you entered.” A figure materialised at my shoulder, clearly the mystery speaker had been hiding in the recess behind the door. Reluctantly I turned to look at them.
I took in the planes and valleys of his face, my heart hammering in my chest. A stranger, a stranger that I felt I should know. He was beautiful, in a purely technical way. The slant of his cheekbones, like razorblades, and the deep green of his eyes were enchanting. Get a grip Girl! A Beautiful stranger in the Boss Man’s office can only spell trouble. I immediately tensed and stepped away, he stepped forwards.
I was trapped.