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"Any other suggestions for approachable contractors?"

Silence. Everyone is either looking like a rock or looking at me like I'm a rock.

Great.

"Ok then, meeting adjourned. I need everyone's input, we need a contractor ASAP," I grab my files and walk out the board room.

This is just bloody wonderful, January has just begun on such a sour note. Our go to contractor for our big building project just rejected us and the meeting was of no use because nobody brought up any ideas.

"Wendy, some coffee please," I walk to my desk and find a pile of envelopes on the edge. "What are these?" I scowl.

"From regional mail? Mr Van Buren brought them for you when he went to get his," her voice cracks.

He did what?!

"E- um, excuse me, he did what?" I stutter, cocked my head to the side so she repeats her statement, only this time I charge for his office not bothering what she said.

"Pete," I grit my teeth.
"Ah, finally she says my name," he grins and turns his chair to face me. "Sit,sit,"

"Pray do tell, when did you ever earn the right to go through my mail?"I snap, not bothering to sit.
"Before you attack me, which I know you'll do," his arms are stretched out from his chest in defense, " and because you're such a feisty lady,"

I roll my eyes. Get to the point you piece of shi-

"I was just helping," he ends.
"This is the first and most certainly the last you do such a thing," my index finger is directed at him. "I can get my damn mail for myself, and if it's not me, it's Mr Walter or nobody at all, do you understand?"

"I do," he gives a smirk.
"Good,"
"Feisty," he whispers once I'm at the door.

Jackass.

***

"The Kagan's wonderful son was here to help your father with setting up the lawn outside, not that he's a gardener," my mother speaks so highly of the man.

A man that I have zero interest in frankly speaking.

I reply to where I had to,and said yes where I could to her as she goes on and on about the poor guy.
No but really he is, whatever he's doing there with my parents better be for his own benefit and not to please me, because if that's the case then he's playing himself.

Poor, poor guy.

The call ends and I decide to shut down everything and head home. My mind wanders off from the moment I leave Khale and into the busy streets of town. The sun is now an orange ball setting behind the tall buildings and scrapers through my rearview mirror.

"Darn it!" I hooter at the car infront of me at the green light.

"Bloody car get out of the way!" I yell still honking. The car is finally in drive and I switch lanes.

Good for nothing Audi!

The next traffic light is amber and I know I have to stop. Turning to my side I spot the same Audi next to my car, the tinted windows suddenly rolling down.

Oh damn.

The man mouths "sorry" before his lips curve into a smile, the same man who I found crouched in Kenya's kitchen days ago.

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