AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My gaze drifts to the window, wishing I could glimpse inside the office. I remember scrolling endlessly through job postings online, each blending into another and creating a sea of monotony.
The North Star ad caught my attention. Although I desire stability, I cannot settle for a monotonous and draining existence.
“I'm interested in the private investigation business,” I admit honestly.
“I'm sorry, but the job opening is for a receptionist, not an investigator,” Mr. Everlast clarifies with a hint of annoyance.
I nod, although he can’t see me. “I understand. But it sounds like an interesting industry.”
“Nor am I training anyone to be an investigator,” he states firmly, the words hanging in the air like a challenge.
“Got it. I appreciate your honesty,” I say softly.
The weight of my aspirations presses against my chest as my desire for this job increases with each passing moment. The distant sound of traffic fills my ears, mingling with the hum of conversations from nearby pedestrians.
“Which types of cases do you handle at this agency?” I ask, genuinely interested. “I searched online but couldn’t find anything.”
“I value privacy,” he grumbles.
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Of course.”
“Mostly forensic accounting investigations,” Atlas adds.
Ignoring his unpleasant demeanor, I probe deeper. “No cheating spouses, inheritance disputes, or stolen items?”
A heavy sigh escapes him as if I'm wearing down his patience. “It's not a glamorous job. This isn't a TV show.”
Is it the weariness of his profession seeping into his words or something else? Is he going through a tough time?His sadness and pain are palpable.
My smile doesn't waver despite his response. “I bet you have some fascinating stories to tell.”
Atlas clears his throat. “I keep to myself, both personally and professionally. I focus solely on the work and prefer to operate from behind the scenes.”
My lips curl into a gentle smile. “That sounds intriguing.”
It’s even more exciting than I expected. I’ve never met a private investigator before. Perhaps he’s guarded because of an injury sustained on the job, or maybe he’s one of the so-called “monsters.”
Yeah, right. I’d better keep my mouth shut. I understand the importance of professional boundaries, and I need the job.
Rain falls harder, and the wind blows sideways. With no umbrella to use as cover, the awning offers little protection. It’s becoming more difficult to hear Atlas as he continues to fire questions. I sense he's testing my strength and loyalty.
“Are you capable of following directives without question?” he demands.
I reply with a resolute, “Yes. I live for clear boundaries after growing up the way I did.”
He emits a low, approving grunt, indicating his satisfaction. Awesome. Maybe I’m winning him over.
“Can I trust you to keep certain information confidential?” he asks.
“Of course,” I answer confidently.
Another grunt of approval. “Are you scared of anything? Squeamish?”
Rain begins falling in relentless sheets, slicking the streets and plastering my hair against my face. My eyes sting, and my office clothes stick to my skin, heavy with rainwater, making me shiver.
My stomach is tied in knots, but I answer honestly. “No. I don’t scare easily.” It’s true. I’ve seen it all, and nothing rattles me.
“Can you think on your feet?” he asks.
