Don't Fear Mr. Reaper

1

It was a longshot, and I damn well knew it, but as I eyed myself in my rearview mirror, my determination ignited the way it had the day I sent in my application with trembling hands. I grabbed my binder, the freshly oiled leather slipping through my sweaty palms. I cursed the decision to try and freshen the ratty old thing up. It had belonged to my father for 25 years and had certainly seen better days. But I was hoping, praying, it had enough of his fearless spirit left in it to just get me through today. 

Reaper & Co.

The giant silver letters glinted in the sunlight above the building's revolving doors.

"You got this," I whispered to myself, charging forward only to be snapped back by my sleeve snagged in my car door. My resume papers exploded from the binder as it hit the pavement like a goddamn firework. 

"Son of a bitch," I growled, yanking at my sleeve in an attempt to free it.

"Excuse me, do you need some help, Miss?" A man asked, stooping down to gather my papers as they attempted to flutter away on the breeze.

"Nope. No, no. No, thank you. I've got it. S'all good." I frantically waved the stranger away with my free hand. He chuckled, slipping the papers neatly back into the binder, including a crinkled sticky note on which my mother had scrawled, You got this, sweetie :)

"Yeah, thanks. If you could, uh, just excuse me now, I've got an interview. So, yeah." 

He stood upright, eyeing one of my resumes with a grin on his face. "Good luck on that interview then, Miranda Khol." He handed my binder back over to me and I nodded quickly, struggling to avoid eye contact with his eerily piercing blue eyes.

"Yup, cool, thank you again. See ya." My cheeks burned as I watched his tall figure turn away and head into, of course, the Reaper & Co. building. I furiously straightened my pencil skirt, finally free from the clutches of my Honda. "It's fine, everything's fine. Minor setback. You still got this."

*    *   *   *   *   *   *   *

I tried to resist the urge to tap my foot against the gleaming white marble floors, impatiently glancing at the clock above the receptionist's desk. Had I made a mistake? Did I dream that they called me in for an interview, or maybe I was, somehow, at the wrong Reaper & Co? Maybe-

"Miss Khol?"

My eyes snapped up to see the tiny blonde receptionist finally stand from behind her desk and gesture towards the massive wooden doors just at the end of the hall. "You may go in now."

The tapping of my soles against the floors echoed off the walls as I embarked down the empty hall beyond the doors. Jesus Christ, even my thighs were sweating. After a horrifyingly long elevator ride, I emerged into a pristine yet bustling office area.

"Are you here to interview for the secretary position?" A small voice piped up from behind me.

"Uh, yes. Yes, that's me."

"Great, follow me then. Mr. Reaper is waiting for you." She chirped.

"Um, Mr. Reaper? I thought, uh, I thought I would be interviewing with the secretary I would be replacing, Mrs. Summers?" I stumbled over my words as I nearly stumbled over my feet as well trying to keep up with the woman as she escorted me outside of the office area.

"Mrs. Summers has unfortunately passed away. Hence, the need for someone to fill the position." She answered, entirely unbothered by the topic of a co-worker's death.

"I, uh-"

"Here is his office. You may enter. Good luck!"

Well, shit.

I hesitated momentarily as I debated whether or not to knock or simply walk in. Fuck it. I threw my shoulders back and pushed the door open, striding forward as boldly as possible.

"Hello, Mr. Reaper. My name is-" The eerily piercing blue eyes from earlier stared back at me. He slowly stood from his desk, walking around the front of it as his fingertips dragged across the polished surface.

"It's a pleasure to formally meet you, Miss Khol. Please," He gestured to the chair directly in front of him, "have a seat."

I stepped forward cautiously, my heart racing in my chest, but it wasn't the nerves. I didn't like the way he looked at me, those eyes and that grin. He was like a predator sizing up his prey, calculating the perfect time to pounce. I sank into the overstuffed leather chair, shifting awkwardly so as to angle myself as much away from him as possible. There was a chill in the air that seemed to emanate from him directly. I licked my lips, inhaling shakily.

"Nervous, Miss Khol? I assure you there's no need to be." He said, flashing his pearly white smile for the first time.

"No, sir. I, uh-"

"Just surprised to see me again, perhaps?" He asked, crossing his arms across his broad chest.

"Y-yes, that's probably it." My mind frantically tried to pull forward any information I had on Mr. Reaper and his reputation. He was one of the youngest billionaires in the world at just 28. Nobody knew where he came from, he was an entirely self-made man. He was a ruthless businessman, having never, ever lost a business deal. Tabloids claimed he once sent a competitor into cardiac arrest from sheer intimidation alone.

"Shall we begin then, Miss Khol?"