"You never really want to mess with people who are well versed in the art of revenge, after all, don't you hear it? It really is suicide. I know from first-hand experience, having been on both the dishing and receiving end of said revenge. But, I must say, it is truly much more fun from the dishing end of things. Don't get me wrong, I really don't dally in the kind of sadistic, targeted, cold-hearted destruction of people anymore, however, that's not to say that I have lost all my skills. Yes, they may have become a little rusty, but, it's like riding a bike, you can't exactly unlearn it.
It is indeed one thing to establish yourself as someone not to be messed with, another to be downright cruel and heartless. All you need is to create a reputation and the rest will be taken care of for you by the wonderous and mystical ways that our society operates - i.e. the good old gossip grapevine. However, from my experience, revenge, is a dish best served cold."
That evening had been one of the most fun nights Selena had had in a long time, not the getting revenge part, even though that did offer a unique type of thrill, but the grabbing dinner part. During her days as a not so broke student, she had made herself a promise that she would live on her student loan allowance alone and not touch any of her trust fund money. To compensate for her spending problem in her first years, she had picked up several jobs along the way which had proven to be very educational. She had dragged Adrian downtown through the maze of subway lines to the food market about a ten-minute walk from her old flat as a student.
For the night, the two of them weren't CEOs of massive companies vying for the top spot in one of the world's most influential financial districts. Last night, they had been two twenty-something-year-olds wandering around the cobblestone food markets where lights and carefree conversation spilt out onto the streets from the stalls, where the scents of freshly cooked food wafted through alleys lingered on your clothes if you'd spent too long there. They had wandered from stall to stall, taking turns to buy what looked nice and sharing the paper pouches and takeaway cartons of piping hot everything. They didn't talk business at all, instead, they either complimented the food or laughed about nothing in particular, like two old friends, and for anyone who knew them, they knew that that was no mean feat.
Adrian had crashed on Selena's couch the night before, she not having the heart to kick him out at 4 am in the morning while he had been tipsy on crafts beer. Although both had the Spring Equinox Ball to prepare for, both also had companies to run and so, bleary-eyed and clutching coffee, Adrian stumbled out of Selena's apartment block as the sun rose the next day. Selena walked out half an hour later looking quite refreshed, with a bounce in her step.
The morning was over in the blink of an eye, in a flurry of documents that changed hands and skirted over desks and polyester cups of coffee all of which vary in temperature. The waves that had been made the night before from the decimation of Qing-Starks Enterprises had inflated the stock market prices of Zhao Hai Industries particularly and now there had been a mass auctioning of stocks by shareholders of the general public division. Aside from the magazine outlets that had fought to cover the Equinox Ball angle of Selena's life, for the first time, finance and business reporters of several major news outlets including 'The Times' and 'Wall Street Journal' flocked around her asking for her 'expertise in the field' and her 'valuable advice and experience', the notion of which made her laugh.
She had given a few short statements before diving into an afternoon of back to back meetings.
A knock on the door, "it's ten to six, Selena, you need to get ready for the ball?" Elise's voice brought her out of her trance like state and although she did raise her head to acknowledge her assistant, she kept on highlighting at lightning speed.
"I'm going to finish this up," she muttered, her head bobbing as she skim-read the document. "You've done incredibly well these past weeks," she looked up, "you're off for the weekend, enjoy yourself."
Elise stared at her boss incredulously, in all her years as an assistant, from intern to PA for the CEO, she had never been given the whole weekend off. A day here or there was the most that she had ever been given. It would have been fair to say that she was definitely married to her work.
"I mean it Elise, starting now, turn your work tablet off, you're free to do work should you choose but it's your weekend off. Just keep an eye on the emails and have a list for me on Monday morning." Selena put down her highlighter and flipped the folder with the last of the pitches shut and stood up to stretch. "There are two town cars, one for you and one for me. I suggest we head down just now before they decide to ditch us in favour of someone else." Selena smiled and grabbed her handbag before heading out of the door.
_______
It had been a while since she had had time to sit at her vanity to stare at her reflection in the mirror properly. Her mornings had been filled with ringing phones and email pings, looking over pitch documentation while she dabbed furiously at her face, conducting phone call meetings while she applied mascara to her lashes and gloss to her lips. The last time she could remember contemplating herself like this was the morning of her father's funeral. She could remember the exact taste of iron in her mouth, the coppery tang of blood from when she bit the inside of her cheeks too hard. She could still smell the nauseating mix of perfumes, some impossibly cheap, others obnoxiously expensive, from the bouquets of various flowers that lined her hall and the overpowering scent of lilies that laced the air and clung to her clothes.
Lost in her own thoughts, Selena went through the motions of putting her makeup carefully, like she did every morning just about. Green tinted black eyeliner, bright red lips, dark smoky eyeshadow, not a look to be messed with. Thinking about her father had brought back one particular conversation that stuck out in her mind. In all fairness, it's not as if she had come from a childhood rich of carefree conversation with her father, but this one was the first time she had ever come to him for advice.
"Never go looking for trouble, but, if and when it finds you, do not walk away until the dust settles on the victor."
Selena took a deep breath and finished getting ready, took one more glance at her reflection in the mirror and shut the door of her apartment, slipping the keys into her clutch. While she sat in the town car, staring blankly at the city speeding by in a blur of lights, she gave herself a pep talk and steeled herself as the car slowed to a stop and the driver turned to look at her expectantly.
She was on the verge of letting herself out when there was a tap on the tinted windows...