Under Control (FreenBecky)

Chapter 2: The Acquaintance

POV Freen

I ran around the office, giving last-minute instructions. There was very little time left before the project was completed, deadlines were tight as always, and nerves were on edge. Having sunk down into my chair for probably the hundredth time today, I decided to go through the presentation again, throwing myself into my work. Ten minutes later, I lifted my head from the screen, feeling someone's gaze on me. Out of surprise, I even jumped and rose to my feet, straightening my stiff shoulders. Standing in front of me was the main boss himself, not Heng, our director, but his father, the founder of the company

"Hello, what do i owe such a pleasure?" I smiled, holding out my palm to him.

"Hello, Freen, I wanted to talk to you" he moved away to close the door more tightly, this action made me very wary.

"Let's sit down" the voice is warm, inviting the interlocutor.

I sank into a chair, but my already frayed nerves did not allow me to sit still. My butt fidgeted in the chair, as if on pins and needles, and my hands also did not want to lie in one place - they fiddled with a button on my blouse, my dark curls, and my ballpoint pen. He, on the contrary, was calm, even too confident and reserved, allowing himself a long pause, watching me.

"Is this about the project? We have to be on time, I'm trying, everything is almost ready" I couldn't stand the intrigue.

"No. I have a request and a proposal for you."

Two hours later, I was sitting on a white sofa, opposite my boss's office, waiting for his secretary to invite me in. There was apparently a meeting outside the door; a crowd of respectable men were loudly discussing the prospects for the development of the real estate market. I sat there, studying my phone out of boredom, occasionally looking back at people passing by, smiling at familiar faces.

A tall brunette walked along the corridor, gracefully swaying her hips: a narrow skirt above the knees, a white blouse and an elegant black blazer, wolf cut hair neatly framed her pretty face, covering her shoulders a little.

I wonder who she is, maybe she's new?! Clients are usually not allowed into the brains of the company, there is a separate office for them, but here ideas are born and implemented, here they work, and do not chat in vain.

It looks like she won't come, this girl, that's why she's an eccentric, confused teenager, as her father said, so as not to live up to expectations.

Meanwhile, the brown-haired girl, without a drop of doubt, pulled the handle of the door I needed, stuck her head inside, asked something, closed the door and stood to the right of it, leaning her back against the wall, exactly opposite me, raised her head and with undisguised curiosity began to look at me. I looked away, pretending to study our company's advertising banner with interest.

"Do you work here?" she broke the silence with her pleasant, velvety voice, attracting my attention.

"Yes, in the design department" I looked carefully at the girl.

"So I should come to you for an internship" the brunette smiled "I heard that your supervisor is not entirely adequate."

"Yes? I don't even know what to tell you about this, maybe it is so" A mysterious smile stretched across my face, "from the outside it's better to see what I'm like."

"Mmm, so it's you, that inadequate person" the answering smile was not long in coming, "Although wait, how long have you been in this position?"

"Four months."

''So my information is outdated"

"Good that it's so" I muttered, not daring to add or ask anything.

The girl bent down to her right leg, the lock of her bag caught on the nylons, just above the knee, slightly tugging the bag, she unhooked them.

"Damn it, okay, what again? What the hell is wrong with my tights, what was I guilty of, they tear every time!" I looked at her with sympathy.

The girl quickly took off her shoes, lifted her skirt a little and began unceremoniously rolling her stockings down her legs, having first looked around and made sure there were no unwanted spectators. Then she twisted them into a kind of ball and, with a deft, imprecise movement, threw them into the trash can to my right, but missed, and the stockings rolled to my feet. I embarrassedly picked them up, taken aback by such a childish act, and held them out and asked.

"Will you practice throwing more? Or can I?" There is a smile on my lips.

"Yes, please, I'm not good at this."

I was putting the stockings in the bin when the door opened, letting out all the meeting participants, and the secretary's head peeked out behind them.

"Come in, Miss Armstrong."

They seem to have forgotten about me, I thought. The secretary's words were spinning in my head: "Come in, Miss Armstrong" the meaning of the words she said finally reached me, which means it's still HER.

About five minutes later the secretary called for me to come in too. I hesitantly opened the door to the boss's office, the girl was screaming, walking back and forth, and was nervous.

"Are you crazy? Seriously? A babysitter? This young girl? Do you even know anything about her? Maybe she herself uses or drinks, or sleeps with just anyone?"

I didn't dare enter until the man noticed the slightly open door and my silhouette.

"Please come in, Freen, don't pay attention to this rude woman" he waved his hand in an inviting gesture, then pointed me to one of the chairs on the other side of his workplace.

The brown-haired girl finally stopped, placing her hands on her hips and furrowing her brow.

"I don't sign up for this! What will I tell my friends? The whole university will make fun of me!" She quickly walked towards the exit.

"Becca, stop!" her father interrupted her, "Sit here" he pointed to a chair standing a meter opposite me.

"I said no, dad, and I don't want to listen to anything else."

"You will listen, otherwise, I am putting your car up for sale right now, taking your platinum card and transferring you to New York University, under my full care, and you know that I do not intend to joke."

The arguments, apparently, were weighty, because the girl obediently took her place, stretched out imposingly and crossed her legs, flashed a withering glance at me and muttered through her teeth.

"Then let's get to the point."

The man began to explain to her how everything would happen, I had already heard it, so I just sat and watched her reaction.

"According to legend, Freen is your cousin, she transferred to your group from the University of Nevada, due to her father's transfer to a new position. I called the rector, tomorrow she will be on the list. We will sort out the rest as questions arise. Now about your drug addiction."

"Dad.." the brunette arched her eyebrows with displeasure.

"So" the man continued "you will obey Freen, don't think about running away from her and throw all other nonsense out of your head, otherwise... I voiced to you my possible next actions. Every three days a nurse will come to you and take drug tests. That's all for now. Print out your schedule for Freen, exchange cell numbers. I have to go, I'm already late for the meeting, chat here. Oh, and by the way, I didn't introduce you"

"Rebecca Armstrong, Freen Sarocha, I hope you get along" pointing a finger at each of us, he hastily disappeared behind the door.

I sat there in some confusion, not at all ready to be left alone with her, but she, on the contrary, exuded cold confidence, showing with all her appearance her disdain for me, for this whole situation. The girl slid over me with an insolent, appraising gaze, slowly, and then her eyes, meeting mine, flashed with rage, in an instant she covered the distance between us, hung over me, pressing my body into a chair.

"I don't know what you said to my father and for what purpose, but I will definitely find out your true intentions" she muttered right into my lips "Or maybe you're aiming to be my mother? So fuck you!" after these words, she left the office without leaving me either her number or class schedule. And what next!? I'm busted!

To Be Continued...