Scott, that's what he would call the pooch. The name Mauricio once wanted to give his own dog.
Maurer stared at him, one brow arched and her mouth twisted into a scoundrel grin. He was fast asleep and was even snoring, he was the picture of peace and rest, performance and confidence. After three days of no sleep, aside from the week when he could barely breathe from the wound and all the painkillers that had been put into him before giving it to him, Scott had finally given up and pretended that by eating the naively pill hidden inside the mill, had not realized his vile deception, accepting without question the next ie without grumble, but Maurer sometimes he forgot he was dealing with a dog and not with a stubborn human and superb. The pooch was a lot smarter than he thought . But, apparently, his motivational speech that if not for their wonderful encounter, he could have died, Scott seemed to understand that in order to survive, he had to surrender.
And that to close his eyes and snore soundly without fear, he had to trust.
The dog stretched out a leg and made strange noises in his sleep deep, sticking out, inevitably, a real smile. And in making a show of not having a heart, Maurer felt that it had softened a little. Just a little bit. And not so much because the dog looked like him and had very human attitudes, but because of the image of Mauricio smiling proudly from heaven, with his angel wings, seeing him take care of him.
The door vibrated at that moment and Maurer looked down at his wristwatch. Mrs. Chutter had just arrived, the same one who had hired to take care of the pooch five days ago to go meet her objective -she would try not to call her by her name from now on so as not to become attached to or associate her with any situation or experience that is soon to be vivid-; the same lady who had called him to tell him that Scott had a high fever and was suffering from tremors, and that he was in dire need of one of the medications that he had disastrously forgotten to buy for him.
That call had relieved and frustrated him in equal measure. First, because it had pod gone out of that hell, and second because I just stop trying to force those earning more confident in their goal, which foresaw that would never happen again in a while. They all seemed to have soul-eating jobs that didn't let them have much more than one night's rest. However, he had not been entrusted with the mission of winning over the lady's relatives, which he saw as equally convenient, starting with that red-haired girl who seemed very close to her.
The door vibrated again under the soft knocks and Mrs. Chutter voice drowned out by wood was heard through it:
- Mr. Beerli. I'm Mrs. Chutter.
Glancing at the mutt one last time, Maurer turned and as he passed his bedroom door, he took his black leather jacket from the handle. It was time for him to get down to business with the plan, he could no longer delay. Not unless you wanted the first warning that the devil's queer would gladly give you if she saw no truly interesting information being passed on to them sooner rather than later.
With his jacket on, he squared his shoulders.
<
***
I had tried my best to avoid the press, but it was really tiring. They all moved like cockroaches that he couldn't crush with the tip of his heel without causing a fuss. Another one to add to your shoulders.
First, the mistress of Freder.
Second, your request for divorce.
Third, the invented rumor of Príapo being her lover.
Fourth and said by the ridiculous fans of Freder, how unfair the trial had been and how she had been left with everything and he had nothing.
Fifth , her supposed other lover <
And sixth, but perhaps much more important than all the previous drama, Chris assault.
My God, just remembering her without knowledge and seeing all disheveled and innocent in Príapo arms her skin crawled. They had not been able to find the bandits who had the audacity to try to hurt her -which did not happen thanks to Príapo-; just as they did not know how on earth the news of her assault had spread through all the media without her realizing it.
The comments that had her trembling the most, for the fact that perhaps it was true , were the ones that asked if the elegant and proud Zhay Hakan Daigo had new enemies who, to get to her, had attacked her secretary.
- Would it be just speculation -muttered, with his head resting on the table-. Aside from having so many ups and downs with the company now that Freder is no longer part of it, I don't need some crazy person in need of money wanting to hurt my loved ones to get to me.
That would be what he lacked.
And who would think that, despite the time and the advanced century in which they were, there would still be men who thought that women were only good for making beds and preparing dinner?
Those investors who had started to turn their backs on her just because she was a woman and did not have Freder presence by her side, were causing her a lot of problems. Many. A lot of.
And now with Chris...
The door clicked in that instant, causing her to lift her forehead from the wood of her desk in a hurry. And with a thousand scolding on the tip of his tongue towards the temporary secretary that he had put while Chris was resting, recovering from such an unpleasant moment and who until now had only managed to tighten his nerves even more , Hakan glared at the woman. person standing in the doorway of his office.
Sin embargo, su mirada enojada se disolvió de un golpe cuando la sonrisa con hoyuelos de Maurer Beerli la saludó.
- Pretenderé que no me acabas de enterrar mil veces bajo tierra con esa mirada y, en cambio, te voy a invitar a un café donde no puedas decir que no.
-¿No? -Respondió tontamente, casi sin voz. Y Maurer asintió.
- Vamos, señorita Hakan. Tomemos un poco de aire, siento que lo necesitas.
Como si la voz de Maurer tuviera algún tipo de encanto para atraer a la gente, Hakan asintió y se levantó de su asiento.
Su día había mejorado notablemente.