Excerpt:
"I don't think I'm cut out for this job. I'm sorry for wasting your time,"I said in automated politeness.
I grasped the doorknob in my sweaty hand. A shriek of panic went through my head and rang in my ears when the door refused to budge. They locked me in? Why would they do that? What is wrong with these people?I tried to keep myself under control and not burst into tears. This was such a stupid idea, I knew there was something off about this place...
"On the contrary, I believe you are perfect for the role," Gahiji said silkily.
I slowly turned toward him. He'd twisted around and had one arm hanging over the back of his chair. He watched me with amusement etched across his pale features. He elegantly gestured to the other seat.
"Please sit down, miss Taylor. We'll discuss your salary and responsibilities." He said it so nicely, so persuasively that I couldn't resist.
I pursed my lips when I went and sat back down in my chair. He held a paper across the table to me. I took it with trembling fingers and stopped breathing when he didn't let go of the paper. His eyes as black and cold as Arctic water were laughing at me.
"I don't bite, miss Taylor."
It took me several attempts to read the contract and fully understand it because Gahiji was terribly distracting. He wasn't actually doing anything to disturb me - he was quietly sipping his tea and paging through his copy of the contract, sending me indifferent glances every now and then. It was his whole persona that was making it difficult for me to focus on anything; how gracefully he moved, the way his ice blonde hair fell across his forehead into his eyes when he bent his head, the little pull at the corners of his far too beautifully sculpted lips, and the way he looked at me when he caught me staring.
"Alright, are you happy with it? Do you have any questions?"
"It says I have to be on call. What does that mean?" I asked.
"It means when you've worked your eight to six time frame, you'll be on call."
"On call for what?"
"Who knows? All that matters is that you are available at any time," Gahiji said with a little shrug.
I glanced down at the contract uncertainly. "Anique said something about poker earlier. You're not going to expect me to gamble, are you?"
"Gamble, no. Playing poker with me one on one, yes."
I scowled at the paper and finally forced myself to look him in the eye. "I don't know how to play poker."
"You'll learn on the job."
"What does poker have to do with being an assistant?" I asked edgily.
Gahiji put his cup down and gave me a cool, assessing look. "To keep me from going rusty."
"Exactly what is it that you do, Mr. Gahiji?"
He flashed me a coy smile. "What I do is irrelevant to what I expect you to do."
"No, that's not good enough," I said in angry frustration. "I think that if I'm going to be your personal assistant then I have a right to know what I'm going to be assisting you with. Apart from the paperwork."
Gahiji smiled. It lit up his whole face and melted the jaded expression into boyish mischief. "You're right," he said, folding his hands on the table between us. "My job is varied, but to cut it down to simple terms - I help people."
"Help them how?" I asked sceptically. Who would come to the seedy part of town and ask help from a man that carries a disturbing aura about him?
"I have different clients with different problems," he said, and added in a sigh, "and I have different solutions for each. Not one case is ever the same."
I stared back at him for a long moment. I carefully put the pen down with a distinct 'click' that echoed in the small room, and saw his smile dim.
"Alright, alright. The last case on my name..." Gahiji puckered his lips thoughtfully, and gestured with his hands, "I helped an elder couple track down their missing daughter."
"So you're like a freelance investigator?" I asked, surprised. He definitely did not strike me as the type.
"No, I'm a specialist. I'm an expert in tracking down... people, finding lost objects, and protecting people. There's no one better than me in this business."
"Okay," I said, picking up the pen and staring at the contract indecisively.
"The pay is good," he said coaxingly.
I signed the contracts and felt as if a great weight had lifted from the room. Gahiji quickly gathered his file on the table and rose to his feet. "I'll show you to your office," he said, and opened the door.
Just like that. I hadn't heard it unlock and he had no key. I stared at his hand on the doorknob for a minute, stumped. I was sure that door had been locked, and when he gestured me back into the main room it was empty of life. He led me to a door behind the desk and opened it up to a spacious room with ochre walls and Gothic furniture.
"Welcome on board, Shanae."
I grasped the doorknob in my sweaty hand. A shriek of panic went through my head and rang in my ears when the door refused to budge. They locked me in? Why would they do that? What is wrong with these people?I tried to keep myself under control and not burst into tears. This was such a stupid idea, I knew there was something off about this place...
"On the contrary, I believe you are perfect for the role," Gahiji said silkily.
I slowly turned toward him. He'd twisted around and had one arm hanging over the back of his chair. He watched me with amusement etched across his pale features. He elegantly gestured to the other seat.
"Please sit down, miss Taylor. We'll discuss your salary and responsibilities." He said it so nicely, so persuasively that I couldn't resist.
I pursed my lips when I went and sat back down in my chair. He held a paper across the table to me. I took it with trembling fingers and stopped breathing when he didn't let go of the paper. His eyes as black and cold as Arctic water were laughing at me.
"I don't bite, miss Taylor."
It took me several attempts to read the contract and fully understand it because Gahiji was terribly distracting. He wasn't actually doing anything to disturb me - he was quietly sipping his tea and paging through his copy of the contract, sending me indifferent glances every now and then. It was his whole persona that was making it difficult for me to focus on anything; how gracefully he moved, the way his ice blonde hair fell across his forehead into his eyes when he bent his head, the little pull at the corners of his far too beautifully sculpted lips, and the way he looked at me when he caught me staring.
"Alright, are you happy with it? Do you have any questions?"
"It says I have to be on call. What does that mean?" I asked.
"It means when you've worked your eight to six time frame, you'll be on call."
"On call for what?"
"Who knows? All that matters is that you are available at any time," Gahiji said with a little shrug.
I glanced down at the contract uncertainly. "Anique said something about poker earlier. You're not going to expect me to gamble, are you?"
"Gamble, no. Playing poker with me one on one, yes."
I scowled at the paper and finally forced myself to look him in the eye. "I don't know how to play poker."
"You'll learn on the job."
"What does poker have to do with being an assistant?" I asked edgily.
Gahiji put his cup down and gave me a cool, assessing look. "To keep me from going rusty."
"Exactly what is it that you do, Mr. Gahiji?"
He flashed me a coy smile. "What I do is irrelevant to what I expect you to do."
"No, that's not good enough," I said in angry frustration. "I think that if I'm going to be your personal assistant then I have a right to know what I'm going to be assisting you with. Apart from the paperwork."
Gahiji smiled. It lit up his whole face and melted the jaded expression into boyish mischief. "You're right," he said, folding his hands on the table between us. "My job is varied, but to cut it down to simple terms - I help people."
"Help them how?" I asked sceptically. Who would come to the seedy part of town and ask help from a man that carries a disturbing aura about him?
"I have different clients with different problems," he said, and added in a sigh, "and I have different solutions for each. Not one case is ever the same."
I stared back at him for a long moment. I carefully put the pen down with a distinct 'click' that echoed in the small room, and saw his smile dim.
"Alright, alright. The last case on my name..." Gahiji puckered his lips thoughtfully, and gestured with his hands, "I helped an elder couple track down their missing daughter."
"So you're like a freelance investigator?" I asked, surprised. He definitely did not strike me as the type.
"No, I'm a specialist. I'm an expert in tracking down... people, finding lost objects, and protecting people. There's no one better than me in this business."
"Okay," I said, picking up the pen and staring at the contract indecisively.
"The pay is good," he said coaxingly.
I signed the contracts and felt as if a great weight had lifted from the room. Gahiji quickly gathered his file on the table and rose to his feet. "I'll show you to your office," he said, and opened the door.
Just like that. I hadn't heard it unlock and he had no key. I stared at his hand on the doorknob for a minute, stumped. I was sure that door had been locked, and when he gestured me back into the main room it was empty of life. He led me to a door behind the desk and opened it up to a spacious room with ochre walls and Gothic furniture.
"Welcome on board, Shanae."