The Final Revenge

|eleven|

NOT EDITED.

"Seems like we both have a knack for keeping to time." Rose remarks.

I smile. "Waiter?" I call, and the waiter walks up to us. "Please, we'd like a bottle of Cabernet."

"Well, is that your favorite wine?"

I nod, "No, not at all. Chateau Margaux is superior to every other wine, although Cabernet is cheaper. The taste is exquisite. Cabernet is just an option, this, I can share."

She laughs. "That's absurd. I don't think I've heard anyone say they do not want to share their wine. It's a first."

"Well, there's a first time for everything, isn't there?"

"But people tend to not want to share more expensive things, don't they?"

"Mm. That's right, but, you see, it depends on what the value is being placed on. I do not place any value on the Cabernet, because it's a second choice. The value is placed on Chateau Margaux for me. So, as you can now understand, people tend to not share things they value more." I respond, looking at her.

She smiles at me. "That explains it." I just didn't like this woman. It was probably because of the way she spoke about my son. The waiter brings the bottle of wine. He opens it and pours us both a glass. I pick mine and she picks hers.

"Cheers." She says.

I chuckle softly. "What are we cheering to?"

"Well, your wedding. When is it again?"

"Hopefully, next week Saturday."

"Hopefully?" She asks, as I sip my wine.

"Rose, you mentioned you have a partner."

"Yes, I did."

"Are you married?" I ask, taking a sip of my wine.

"Yeah. We are." She responds, a wide smile on her face. She takes a gulp of her wine.

"Is he your first partner?"

She drops her glass on the table. "No. Why do you ask?"

"Nothing, exactly. This would be my third marriage in six years. The two before this, failed. You can understand what hopefully means."

"Hm, yes. I do." She gulps the entire glass of wine in one go. I look at her, shocked. For a moment, I felt as though she had serious issues, her demeanor, everything else, a camouflage. She continues, "I don't know if it's just pity."

"Pity? What do you mean?"

"Look, Natalie, I know you don't like me because of what I said about your son. Personally, I do like you and I feel I can trust you. They say people who dislike you, and know your secrets are better than those who like you and know your secrets. A person who likes you is ninety nine times more likely to spill your secrets, however, the one who doesn't, will most likely do it. but they'll keep your secret until they decide to use it against you."

I scoff, "I don't want you to trust me, Rose." I say, irritated. I call the waiter to bring the receipt. It was time for me to leave.

"But I have no one to turn to here. I've no friend or family."

"Didn't you just say you were married? Where's your husband?"

"He doesn't live here. He's in Quebec."

"Canada?"

"Mm. We met there." She says, as I round up paying the bill.

"I'm sorry for whatever you're going through. However, I have problems too. A few years ago, I would have sat down, listened to you and given you advise or help. Now, I really don't care about anybody except myself and my son. I hope everything works out well for you, Rose. I'll be sure to send you a wedding card. Enjoy the afternoon."

******
"Good afternoon, Ms. Richardson!" Majority of the staff chorus.

"Hello, everyone. I hope you're all doing great. Getting to the point, are there interns here? Do we hire interns?"

"Yes, ma'am. They're mostly in the communication and PR department. Is there a reason?" A lady asks.

"Yes, I'd like to get a personal assistant. I'd like that today."

********
The female interns and I are all gathered in the conference room. I'm scanning them all individually, taking my time to see who I'd feel comfortable with. They all look warm and trustworthy, but I know better.

"Unfortunately, I just need one of you. Is there anyone that'll like to volunteer to be my personal assistant?" Out of about 16, only 9 raise their hands.

"Alright, then. The rest of you may leave."

"What do you when a child cries?" I ask them. They all look at one another, seemingly confused.

"You." I point at the first girl. "Uh... give him chocolates?"

"You." I point at the second in line. She responds, "I've never had to watch a child. . ."

"You there." I point at the last girl. "I think I'd put him to bed. .?"

"Can you answer me?" I ask the girl in the middle. "Give him a hug and try to make him laugh." She says, avoiding eye contact with me.

I smile. "Step forward." I say. I get up. She steps forward, still avoiding eye contact with me.

"Congratulations. You're hired. Come with me."

*****

I take off my heels as I sit in my chair. "So, what's your name?"

"Diane Pratt, ma'am."

"Nice to meet you, Diane. I'm Natalie Richardson. I'd like for us to work together, gain mutual understanding. Now, what is like for you to do for me is to be there when I need you. You'd inform of my meetings, appointments, you'll report anything strange or anything you hear in the company to me. In essence, you'll do whatever I ask you to do. You'll receive your salary directly from me. Forty thousand per month. If you impress me, fifty." I say and I watch her gasp. I felt like it was my way of making up to Jennifer. I didn't know how to feel about her death.

"Okay, ma'am. Thank you so much! Oh, my God. Thank you!" She gasps, trying to contain her excitement.

"You may begin today because I have my first assignment for you."

"What can I do?"

"Good. I need you to find as many reporters and journalists as possible. I'll be at clumping beach tomorrow, I don't know what time yet, just make sure they get there and take photos of me and whoever they see me with. I want it published on the internet, I wanted it on all the papers, most importantly, the internet. Can you do that?"

"Yes, of course, I can. I was in the PR department."

"Good. I need it done right now, but don't let them know who you are. They can't know I sent you."

"Alright ma'am, I'm on it. Can I ask why you want your pictures taken?"

"I'm trying to get a message to someone. I hope it works."