The Business of Revenge

Valerian

This was it; I was convinced this was how I was going to die, holding a thousand things and chasing after Mr Emerson. It was almost comical like I was straight out of one of those movies where the comedic relief was merely some poor assistant who was trying to juggle the world, whilst the savvy no-nonsense boss was spouting a bunch of stuff they somehow needed to remember when all their brain power was focused on not tripping over their own two feet and spilling all the clutter in their arms straight onto the floor.

"Miss Laurence," his voice cut through my thoughts as he sternly asked, "Are you even listening to me."

"Yeah of course I am listening to you, why wouldn't I-"

"Then tell me what I just said."

I grinned, "Easy, you just said, Tell me what I just said,"

He was not amused.

But I was and isn't that what matters the most?

There was a low chuckle sounded from behind me, "You've got a funny one this time,"

I spun on my heel to be met with one of the most breath-taking men I had ever seen. He looked awfully familiar, his dark skin shining and glowing even in the meagre light of the office, the filtered sunlight bouncing off the metallic buttons on his dress shirt. On anyone else, it would have looked tacky, but on him, it looked poised.

His eyes sparked with mirth, as in an effortless stance as he all but leaned against the door of the conference room we had just entered.

"I'm going to fire whoever let you in this building, Valerin," there was a harshness in his tone as he glared at the man behind me.

But that didn't break his spirit, "Is that any way to greet your best friend?"

"You are delusional if you have convinced yourself that my tolerance of you is anywhere close to the realms of friendship."

He grinned a cheeky sort of smile, as he retorted, "That's his love language you know, insults and unnecessarily long sentences,"

"Tell me about it," and we both laughed leaving an incredibly annoyed Mr Emerson to shoot daggers at us with his eyes.

"I would appreciate it," his voice was low and methodical, and I knew all too well that trouble was simmering beneath the guise of a speech, "If you stopped flirting with my employees."

I flushed red, red as a beet as I turned to him with wide eyes, "You're an arsehole you know that right?"

He didn't dignify me with a response, turning to his not-best friend, "What are you doing here, Valerin, other than being a nuisance?"

"I'm here for the meeting, you didn't really think I came just for you."

"Meeting? But this meeting is regarding the new ownership of-"

His sentence cut off, as the realisation dawned on him.

"I knew you were moronic but this a new level of low even for you Valerin,"

"Ha, I guess you're just bitter because you're looking at the new owner of Amworth Incorporated." He said it so proudly like a child showing their parents the first sticker they had earnt from their primary school teacher.

The meeting went a lot like this.

Mr Emerson began to talk logistics, and how the companies would interact with each other after the takeover.

Valerin would make a joke about being Emerson's new boss, as according to him the client is always right.

Then Emerson would look like he wanted to strangle Valerin.