𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 ✓ [𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐎𝐍𝐄]

✎chapter three × red ties & bald guys

ʙʟᴇᴄᴋᴇʀ sᴛʀᴇᴇᴛ
ᴇɴ ʀᴏᴜᴛᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇɢᴀʟɪᴀɴ ʜᴏᴛᴇʟ
ᴇɪɢʜᴛ ғɪғᴛʏ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ᴘᴍ
━─━────༺༻────━─━

I brush a bit of lint from my black polo and check my reflection in the rearview mirror. From what I can see in the darkness, my makeup is fine.

Patting my head, I try to alleviate the throbbing pain from getting my hair braided. It hurt to turn my head, but that's how you know it'll stay in.

Sadly, the mistake of still trying to get all my errands done before work was made.

Now I was not only tired, but running late. I check the time again. Eight fifty four. It'll take another ten minutes to get to work.

Mrs. Atkins is a big fan of punctuality. Being on time is a must. And her idea of on time is arriving at a quarter to, at least.

The rainy early spring weather isn't helping my commute and I tap impatiently on my steering wheel.

My phones buzzes in my cupholder. I answer, setting it on speaker.

"Hello?"

"Ms. Castillo, are you on your way?" Mrs. Atkins' anxious and irritated voice chimes on the phone.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Atkins, this weather is backing up trafic. I'll be there in about ten minutes."

She sighs.

"It'd be ideal to have plenty of time for you to get situated. You have the list of preliminaries and complaints are not on the agenda." She quips.

"Understood. I'll be there as soon as I can."

I hang up, gassing the car for maybe the first time in five minutes. I can finally see the light at the end of the street and the traffic seems to lighten.

But, the rain is still relentless. The feeble wipers on my 2007 Corolla struggle to keep with the barrage of rain that's falling in sheets.

Getting them fixed would be worth more than I was willing to cough up, so I let the glare of headlights be my guide in the rain.

Finally, the traffic lets up and I strain a bit past the speed limit. I arrive at the employee parking of the Régalian two minutes earlier than I expected, but still plenty late.

Mrs. Atkins is waiting for me at check in. She looks sharp, in a black pantsuit and white blouse. The only wrinkle in sight is the one creasing her forehead from what looks like pure anxiety.

"Nia, finally!" She calls as I walk through the doors. She grabs my hand and pulls me straight towards the elevators, with a force that almost topples me over. Her clicking heels ring in my head.