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Another hour gone.
I have work tomorrow. It’s a small office and the only person I’ve talked to is the owner. He’s the one who did my interview. I wish I had more time to get adjusted to this town, but sometimes it’s better to jump in headfirst.
Is there a light outside? Headlights? It had better not be the sun.
I manage to drift off for a meager handful of hours before my alarm startles me awake. The room is hot from the sun against the curtains, and the feather blanket has me sweating bullets.
I get up and wander through the house naked, cooling down with an iced tea from the fridge. The sweetness is enough to get me going. Maybe it is the caffeine too, since it’s made with a particularly strong brew of black tea, but I always say it’s the sugar.
Maybe I’m addicted to both. That’s unfortunate.
I drive myself to work, looking over the passenger seat a few times on the way as though Avraam is going to suddenly appear in it. I can still smell his body in the car, thick and heavy with some kind of spice. He’s like those oranges you make on Christmas with the cloves stuck in them.
Intoxicating.
But the Christmas spirit dies the moment I get out of the car and walk into the office building. It smells like burnt microwave popcorn, cheap coffee, and body odor in the hallway.
I can only imagine what my coworkers are going to be like. A bunch of miserable gray people with cheap plastic headphones on, typing away on computers from the nineties. It’ll be like a sitcom, only real and that makes it horribly depressing.
I already regret taking this job. It doesn’t matter that it pays better than my last one. I’ll be trapped in rural purgatory for eight hours a day, and there’s no escape now that I’ve committed to buying a house.
Maybe I should’ve taken Avraam up on his offer to buy it.
Too late. My life is falling apart, and my chronic pessimism isn’t helping in the least.
At least I know I’m being pessimistic. Some people try to claim they’re realists, but realism is just pessimism with smoke and mirrors. Neither of them helps.
But just when I’m tempted to turn around and walk out the door, I hear a voice that could only belong to one person.
Deep. Commanding.Russian.
Avraam is leaning over one of the desks, having an intense conversation with the owner of the company. His expression is confident and cheerful, but there’s a seriousness to the way he speaks. Something important is happening.
But why the fuck is he here inmyworkplace?
I clear my throat, and every head in the cramped little office turns to me. Twenty-five people fall silent, and a big shit-eating grin stretches over Avraam’s face.
“Kimberly,” he says, standing up straight. “I was just talking to Robert here about you. He said you were very talented, and that’s just what we need here at Severov Industries.”
Severov Industries?You’ve got to be kidding me…
I groan. “Avraam, excuse my language, but what the fuck is going on?”
Robert, my boss and the owner of this business, which is certainly not called Severov Industries, gives me a scolding frown. “Do you two know each other?”
Avraam nods, rubbing his chin with a devilish grin. “We’ve met in passing, yes. She’s a little firecracker, but I know how to handle her type. Talent is what I need. Everything else falls to the wayside if you have smart employees.”
Robert nods like Avraam is his teacher.
I want to puke. “Guys, what’s going on here?”
Robert gets up from the desk, giving me an apologetic look. “I’m sorry for the confusion, but I’m not going to be much help explaining things anymore. I’m retiring as owner of the company, and Avraam will be taking over from here.”
Blood rushes to my head, and my face burns with rage. This can’t be happening! Is Avraam insane? Is he trying to ruin my life just because I wouldn’t sell the house to him?
I should’ve trusted my doubts and called the police on him the first chance I got. He’s nothing but trouble.
Robert gives me a thin smile, sliding past me and heading quickly for the door. He’s leaving me alone with this fucking monster. I can’t believe his guts. Someone has to say something. Nobody here is going to allow a man like Avraam to run the business into the ground.
