Avery wants to nail the man responsible for her sister's disappearance, CEO Carter Thebes, but the last thing she expects is to feel sorry for him, or worse, develop feelings. Can she unearth his secret before her emotions undo her efforts?
***
Aver...
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The moment I see him, all smug behind his desk—even if he stands when I get in—I just want to grab that pen sitting near his fingers resting on the desk, and take him into a chokehold, pen dangerously pressing on his carotid. Instead, I repeat the words Neil has hammered into me relentlessly this past week, 'Kill with a smile, babe. Kill him with a smile, then kill him with a weapon if you must.'
It's my go-to mantra now, because how can I forget what he's done?
'What you assume he's done,' Neil's overtly logical voice trickles into my thoughts as I lean into morbid scenarios once again.
Fine. What he might have done!
So I flash the man in his large, unnecessarily huge office a meek smile, hoping he reads it as intimidation. Let Thebes think he has me figured out. I'm just a girl standing in front of a boy, asking him to hire her so she can dig out his dirty secret and send him to jail if he so much as hurt a hair on Nina's head.
Shit, Nina. Where are you? What did you get yourself into while I was away?
"Mr Thebes, this is Avery Honey, the last interviewee for today." The frosty woman snaps, her tone unmistakably hostile towards me and I can't help but steal a look between the two. He's probably doing her because it's him, the BadBoy of all Badboys, as if that's something to aspire to these days, and she probably sees me as competition.
Maybe Neil wasn't wrong to curate my look.
I'm hardly listening when Carter extends a hand I'm loathed to shake and eyes me from head to heels.
Kill with a smile. Then kill with a weapon—if I must.
I slip my hand into his, mindful not to shake it like I usually do. I want him to think I'm weak, gentle. Soft. Then thwack! He won't see it coming.
When the first question rolls in, I'm already anticipating it. I shift in my chair, demurly, and tell them how I recently graduated, blah, blah, blah. The backstory Neil and I spun for a bored socialite looking for some new adventure. 'Avery Honey'—I still can't believe I agreed to that stupid last name.
I see him glance at my CV and almost roll my eyes. He couldn't even be bothered to remember that odd fact. It was placed there for a reason, dumbass! To see how much attention you pay to details right under your nose. See if you're likely to catch onto me before I finally slip that cuff on you.
And so, the interview or the farce continues for several more minutes, and with each question his squeeze asks, designed to make me realise I'm not suitable for this job, the more my resolve settles. I need this in the bag. Like yesterday. And I'm not leaving until I'm the last person Carter Thebes thinks of tonight; the last person he pictures before he goes to sleep. I want to haunt his thoughts like he's haunted mine since he said those stupid words on camera not so long ago: "I honestly don't know where Karenina Harlow is, but I had nothing to do with her disappearance. And I hope for her family's sake, she is found soon or turns up soon, very much alive."
