Dangerous black ties

The interview

I check my watch, which is tightly resting on my wrist, as I sit in the uncomfortable chair.

I had an interview at 8:00 a.m. It was currently 9:20 a.m. The boss, they say, is running late.

I really need this job. There's no argument about that. My dad was very nice to me when I was working two jobs. I know if I worked here, I wouldn't have to work two jobs. I'd have extra money to help pay for the luxurious lifestyle he insists on living. Fueled only by the money that I had. He doesn't work and hasn't been in years ever since my mom died; he has been hooked on drugs.

I'm stuck in my thoughts, as my name was called out.

"Meredith!" I shove my thoughts away and quickly walk over to her.

"Greyson is ready to see you now. Go in the elevator and hit the top floor." She says she is typing away on her computer.

I walk to the elevator, hitting the button. The bright Florissant lights in the elevator are not helping with my headache, and I've caused myself to be nervous. I hit the top floor button and closed my eyes, holding onto the wall tightly.

I hated elevators, even when I was a little girl. The doorbell signaled to me that the elevator doors were open.

I walk to the best of a largely built man with black glasses on his face, typing away on his computer.

"You must be Meredith. Knock on that door first on your right and wait for him to call you in." He was not even looking at me, which I was actually thankful for.

I walked to the door, my heels lightly tapping on the ground. I softly knock.

"One moment." The muffled voice says.

Then I hear the voice drop down and say, "Farlo parlare. Inizia tagliandogli le dita. Diventa creativo. Una volta ottenute le informazioni sulle armi rubate e sulla droga, uccidilo."

{Get him to talk. Start off by cutting off his fingers. Get creative. Once you get the information about the stolen guns and drugs, kill him.}

Humm, what language is that? I think

Spanish? Italian? I try not to eavesdrop.

"Come in," he calls out a little louder.

I turn the knob and softly close the door behind me. Not having left my gaze on the floor.

"Listen, I'm a very busy man. I've looked over your qualifications, and so far, you are the best candidate. I'm willing to give you a trial run of two days, and if that goes well, I will hire you. Regardless, you will be paid during the trial run. Sound good?." He says this to me, staring at me intently.

His icy, cold eyes are looking at me. A small scar on his forehead and arms of art, his body ridden even some of his neck.

I nod. In response, think about two days for a trial run, and regardless, I'll still get paid. I'm in. I will be the best assistant ever! I think as I talk myself up. But was rudely interrupted.

"Use your words. I don't need a mute." He looks agitated.
"Umm yes. Thank you for giving me a shot." I say, reaching my hand out for him to shake.

He looks down at my hand and backs up to me. Turning his gaze to his computer and back to me, quickly shook my hand.

"For a girl, you have a strong handshake." He says he is retracting his hand and starting to type on his computer once again.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?" I say, reaching for his hand.

"No, you didn't, he gestures me away.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought I might have when you said I had a strong handshake." I say, looking at the ground, feeling awkward about standing there without further instructions.

"I was stating a fact, a compliment. Don't overthink it. Get me coffee, black." He says he is still looking at the screen.

I remember walking past the break room. I walk into the break room and pour a cup of coffee. I grabbed some small scones and the new paper on the counter just in case he wanted it.

Maybe I shouldn't. He only asked for coffee. Might as well. I think

I knock once again. "Come in," he says, talking on the phone again.

"Merda, è stato veloce. Uccidilo. Sai cosa fare con il corpo. pulire dopo"

{shit, that was fast. Kill him.   You know what to do with the body. Clean up afterward}

"Come in." I set the coffee down, followed by the scones in the napkin. I set the newspaper beside the coffee.

"I didn't ask for the extra stuff. Meredith." He says this, looking up from his screen.

"I know I'm sorry. I just thought you might have wanted something to have with your coffee. I just thought you would enjoy the newspaper. Next time, I'll only bring what you ask."

"It's fine. I appreciate the offer." He says to throw the newspaper in the trash.

I am imagining my future being trashed within seconds.

He hands me a file of papers with a sick note. Make copies of these. How many I want to be printed of each is on the sticky notes attached to each; the copier is on the third floor."

I smile lightly before walking out, closing the door behind me softly. Before walking to the dreaded elevator.

Pushing the button. Bing the doors open, and I'm welcomed yet again into my irrational fear. Lighting up the small space exaggeratedly.

I push the third-floor button, squeezing the handles in the elevator for comfort, and my knuckles turn white. I stop breathing and listen to the slight, constant humming.

The doors open again as I hold the folder, walking into the large room with multiple printers and ink and paper on the walls.

I walk to a printer and start working. Listening to the few people come and go.

"Hello, I'm Carter! I don't think I've seen you before. Are you new?" He asked me to watch me as I worked.

"I am new. Though I'm not working here yet," I say watching carefully for the paper's sake, making sure everything is going correctly.

"Ahh, you must be trying to work for Mr. Greyson. Well, if you want to grab lunch with my boyfriend and me today, let me know. You seem interesting. Here is my number, "and he hands me a business card. I shove it in my pocket. Grabbing the warm papers, I stroll back to the elevator. Pushing the button once again. Hopefully, this gets easier for me. I signed in, walked in, and hit the top floor button. My body jolted upwards as the elevator moved.

I walked back to the door, knocking once again.

"One minute"

"Hai trovato il topo? legatelo e imbavagliatelo, ma lasciatelo a me."

{You found the rat? Tie him up and gag him, but leave him for me.}

"Come in"

I hand him all the fresh, warm copies.

"Thank you down the hall; we're having our meeting evenly Split these papers out between each chair. Staple them together in this order. He hands me a packet and a stapler." He states before turning his attention back to the computer once again.