AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He’s unfazed. “My last name, Chortsky, means ‘from a chort’—which is Russian for ‘demon.’ Chort is also a popular curse word, kind of like ‘damn.’”
Huh. So it’s official, he is evil. Still, poor guy. I picture a little boy with that name, being teased unmercifully. “At least your parents didn’t choose that name,” I say. “They suffered with it too.”
He shrugs. “They could’ve changed it.”
“Fine, you win—if it’s a win to have parents worse than mine.” I cock my head. “What do they do?”
“Right now, they own a restaurant on Brighton Beach. In Russia, though, my father was a surgeon and my mother an architect.”
Before I can ask anything else, the limo comes to a stop.
I glance out the window.
Wow. I didn’t even notice the ride home.
“Go rest,” he says, his commanding tone returning and the earlier smile gone without a trace.
I fight the urge to ask about testing again. Something tells me it wouldn’t be welcome at this juncture.
“Bye,” I say as I open the limo door.
“Until later, Ms. Pack.” He pauses, then adds gently, “By the way… you might want to check on your eyebrow.”
Chapter Nine
I burst into my bathroom and stare in the mirror.
Of course. The eyebrow I drew earlier is barely a shadow of itself, and that mixture of curious, suspicious, and skeptical expressions is on my face in full force.
Ugh. Could this day have gone any worse?
The entire time I was talking to him, he must’ve been staring at that eyebrow. No wonder there were some smiles. He must’ve been dying of laughter inside.
I take out Precious and order an indelible eyebrow pencil, eyebrow powder, and temporary eyebrow tattoos. I even splurge on stick-on human hair eyebrow wigs in the hopes that one of these things will let me look human again.
When my mortification subsides a little, I check my work email.
Empty inbox.
I’ve never had zero email before. Even on my first day with Binary Birch, a welcome message was waiting for me, as well as something from HR and Sandra.
Speaking of Sandra, I dial her up.
“You’re supposed to be resting,” she says instead of a hello.
“I am?” Did she say that sternly?
“I just got off the phone with Mr. Chortsky. He made his feelings clear.”
I feel like I’m about to fall through the floor. “Did he explain why?”
“Mr. Chortsky, explaining himself to me?”
This time, I definitely detect a note of annoyance—hopefully at the Impaler and not me. “Look, Sandra, about the testing I was—”
“That’s another thing.” Her tone is clipped. “We’re not to speak about Project Belka or any sort of work until you’ve rested—and once you have, he wants our interactions to happen face to face.”
Weirder and weirder… unless they plan to fire me, that is. I think firing someone face to face is how it’s usually done.
