Instead, I had somehow become the bitch of Miranda Carmichael, head of Dacian Enterprise’s HR department.
“About one hundred and twenty kilos,” I replied, unable to keep a frosty hauteur from my voice, because fuck this chick. She was the head of HR, so she had to know her line of questioning was inappropriate, and in my head, I was readying myself for a call to the industrial relations hotline the minute I walked out of this interview.
Miranda nodded then, swivelling in her chair before abruptly getting to her feet. I mirrored her action, figuring whatever slow moving train wreck this interview had been, it was finally over. I readied myself for a brush off, for awe’ll be in touch, when she offered me her hand. I reached out and took it, dwarfing her slender one with my much larger one.
“Welcome to the team, Ms Davies,” she said, smiling now with all of the warmth that had been missing until now. “I’d like to offer you the position of personal assistant to Dacian Enterprises CEOs.”
9
What the fuck?
What, and I say again, the ever loving fuck?
That devastatingly insightful thought rolled around over and over in my head as Miranda and I rode the elevator up, up, up to the top floor of the Dacian building. The doors opened onto an interesting office space.
Four large wooden doors formed a ring around the room, which I quickly worked out had to be the offices of each of the Lockwood pack members. The Lockwood brothers had set the business world on fire when they built Dacian. Alphas were normally small-town guys who were focussed on keeping their town, their omega, and their legacy alive. The world of big business, of politics, had little interest for them.
Not the Lockwoods.
Sent to a posh boarding school in the city for some reason, the pack had learned everything about the world of entrepreneurship and pursued it with all the single-minded zeal an alpha would use to pursue his omega.
And with devastating results.
Pretty much every business magazine in the country had featured the poster boy for the pack, Tobias Lockwood, on their front cover at some point, because their combination of hard-nosed business sense and environmentally friendly ventures had transformed the landscape of this country. They had monetised carbon reduction, introduced seaweed additives to cattle and sheep feed that drastically reduced methane emissions. Immense kelp farms set up off our shores, creating huge, cheap, carbon sinks that far outstripped the carbon sequestering powers of forests, had also resulted in our collapsing fish stocks stabilising, then rapidly growing in number. It was said that the Lockwoods had a direct link to even our prime minister, as he desperately tried to get our carbon emissions below the global targets.
“So you’re doing this?”
A stunningly beautiful woman appeared from behind the computer monitors, tall, blonde, and statuesque. That beauty was somewhat marred by her expression, though. Her full bottom lip quivered as her jaw muscle flexed, her big blue eyes filling with tears but not spilling over, not yet.
“Crystal, you have to have expected this,” Miranda said coolly.
“Of you? Damn right I did, Miranda.”
Crystal’s eyes narrowed, but that forced the tears to spill. I found myself moving forward, plucking several tissues from the box on her desk, and then offering them to her, even though they were hers. For a moment, I was on the receiving end of her harsh gaze, but her lips thinned as she nodded, then took them from me. She dabbed at her eyes, her waterproof mascara not moving for a second as she did so, before she turned back to Miranda.
“They’re not going to let you do this,” Crystal insisted. “They won’t let you turf me out on my ear. Max won’t…”
You know that insanely uncomfortable feeling you get when you realise you’ve stepped right in the middle of someone’s drama? Anything from sitting in the wrong seat on the train, only to find out the people across from each other are breaking up, to watching a knockdown, drag out fight take place outside a nightclub. I’d seen it, been through it, but never expected to be thrust into a situation like that here. I took in the marble floors, the inset down lighting, the cool pale grey of the walls—anything to stop from watching whatever this was unfold.
“Who do you think signed the termination papers?” Miranda asked, handing Crystal a manila envelope. “I think you’ll find your severance package is quite generous. You’ll have two weeks to train up Sage here—”
“You think I’m going to stick around here for a minute longer than I have to?” Crystal snatched the envelope from Miranda’s fingers, peering inside at the contents before turning to me. “Don’t do this.” I blinked at her frank advice. “You think you want this job, but trust me—you really, really don’t.”
“That’s enough, Crystal.” Miranda’s voice was icy. “Take your stuff and go then, if that’s your attitude. I wouldn’t want to have security come up to escort you out.”
For many long minutes, there a silent vigil was held for Crystal’s job. She shoved her belongings into a bag, Miranda watching her like a hawk, while I looked everywhere else. I didn’t know what the hell I’d walked into, but I felt for her. If someone as beautiful and probably accomplished was walking out on this job, maybe I didn’t want this position.
Scratch that, I really didn’t, especially when I remembered Miranda’s fucking question during the interview. I frowned slightly, pressing my finger to the crease there to smooth it away.
Just keep the job until you find something else. Pay rent, pay for some groceries, put some money aside, I told myself, because I’d say this—Dacian paid well. I’d lost my job a couple of weeks ago, the murmurings around the office that the business was in trouble abruptly confirmed by our boss one morning, our firings immediate. I had a small nest egg, but not enough to live without a wage for long. I’d hustled and hustled, looking for something else, applying for everything but never expecting to get a job that paid almost twice what I had been earning.
Maybe I can suck it up for a year, I thought as Crystal marched towards the elevator.Get some real savings set aside.
“I’ll have Joey fromIT come up and organise your login details,” Miranda said to me, pulling out her phone to make the call.
The terrible sound of Crystal’s tiny little sobs was broken by the ding of the elevator, no doubt bringing Joey up to the executive floor. I watched the doors open, hoping like hell that this Joey could help me find my feet, because I’d rather eat broken glass than ask Miranda.
Instead, four massive bodies were revealed by the opening doors, Crystal dropping her box and flinging herself at one of them.