"Be very afraid. I expect nothing but the best from you. Thanks to your boss who extolls your finer attributed greatly, I expect the same quality work and if you can't deliver… well, you get my drift."
A voice comes over the intercom. "Is anyone there? We have got a report the elevator isn't moving."
Mr. James lets go of my jaw and move over to the buttons to respond. "The elevator is fine," he announces and releases the button for the elevator to continue its short descent.
I breathe a sigh of relief when the doors open but huddle in my corner, waiting for him to step out first. I could still feel the impression of his hand on my cheek, my nostrils plugged with his natural musky scent mingled with his cologne.
"I expect to see you at six tomorrow Emmy."
"Six?" I echo. Work didn't begin until seven.
"Yes, at six." He turns slightly to the left so he could look back at me. "One more thing, you'll find I'm not so easily please as Cather obviously is."
He gives my body a once over and smirks before stepping out of the elevator. Confused, I rush towards through the doors before the elevator could close with me inside.
What is wrong with that man? Am I going to have to work with a lunatic? Why had he grabbed my chin like that? Doesn't he know anything about personal space because he'd invaded mine without my permission?
Is this what I will have to deal with working for him? Because this isn't what I'd signed up for when I decided to work at Cather.
"Are you okay?" Sandra asks in concern when I got to her desk. "Word has it you were stuck in the elevator."
"I- I'm fine," I respond which is a complete lie.
"Only the most sought after bachelor in Michigan. Did I mention he is a billionaire? You should see the women he usually goes out with. If you open any society page, I'm telling you, there's a photo of James Thomson."
The society pages? No wonder I don't know him. I don't usually read that trash. I want to pry and find out as much as I can about Mr James Thomson but I don't dare to bring it up more and raise Sandra's suspicion. Not that there is anything to be suspicious about.
"I wonder what he was doing here," Sandra muses aloud. "Do you know?" Then she gasps. "He's not taking over Cather's, is he? Because he's famous for that you know?
Taking over small companies and upscaling them and their profits. They say he has the golden touch and I'm inclined to agree."
The dreamy look on her face leaves little to the imagination as to what she means by Mr. James's golden touch. Someone must be spreading rumours because of his grip on my jaw in the elevator, that had been no golden touch.
It was the very opposite.
"I'm sure Mr. Cather will announce if such a thing is happening," I hedge. "Gotta run."
I start to head for the elevator then take a detour to the stairs, walking the three flights. After almost being assaulted by that man and for no reason at all, I am not ready to face the elevator so soon.
After opening the mails, I bring them in a pile to Mr. Cather's office for him to tend to them.
"I suppose this is the last time I'll be getting my mails here," he announces with a sad smile. "I'll leave a forward address with you Emmy and if it's not too much trouble, could you forward any personal mails to me?"
"Sure will Mr. Cather."
I am almost at the door leaving when his voice stops me in my tracks.....
"Emmy," he said almost hesitantly.
"Yes sir?"
"You may find Mr. James to be different in his approach from me," he states plainly. "He is a most unorthodox man but he has a record for turning profits. You'll be working for a very big publishing house soon.
If anyone can turn this place around, he can."
Hmm, why do I have a feeling there is much more he wants to say that he isn't?
"Okay."
"And, he's asked about you."
So that is it. "Me? Why?"
He retreats looking almost regretful that he has said anything. "Ah, it's nothing I suppose. Just a man ensuring he knows his new staff."
"Mr. Cather," I respond in concern. "Is there something you're not telling me?"
He shakes his head. "Everything is fine, Emmy. Mr. James will take care of everything."
Including me? I shiver remembering how he invaded my space, remembering his breath hot on my cheek with him standing so close to me.
For the rest of the day, I work quietly, my mind occupied with some serious thoughts. Thoughts of handing in my resignation. But should I allow the actions of one man to force me out of a job?
But James Thomson isn't your average man and I'd rather have peace of mind than being in a job and miserable.
Mr. Cather calls a meeting at four and informs the staff it is his last day. I knew when he did there would be waterworks. He is an amazing boss, the type who remembers everyone's birthday and buys them presents.
After the meeting, everyone files out in a sombre mood, kind of the way I feel.
At five, I give Mr. Cather a final goodbye and leave work, happy to go home but nervous about returning tomorrow. By the time I get home in my little Subaru, I had convinced myself that I am going to quit.
I am bad with controlling men and Mr. James showed me today he has no qualms with walking over people. I would find another job. she was so upset for her new boss she returned home with a sad heart.
******
It was a cold winter's evening. The sky was grey, with a light breeze blowing. Soon it would be spring. There was the smell of green in the air and the sound of a bird singing.
I pulled on my coat, opened the front door of the house, and took off down the street. As I did so, I felt the stiff wind of my departure. My coat came off, the coat collar fell away, exposing my collarbone and the rough skin beneath.
In an instant, all I smelled were metal and leather, rust and dust. From that moment on, there was no warmth in my heart, no hope. My life had turned to ashes in that instant.
Yet, as I crossed the street, my soul was as strong as ever. That's how it felt. Now, when it mattered, nothing mattered. Not my future, not my past. No one in this world knew what I had done. No one had any idea. For the first time, I was a free person.
I stood alone, frozen and scared, unable to breathe, to speak, or to move, at first in utter silence. Then, gradually, slowly, quietly, like a sleepwalker, every sense of what was happening in front of me faded away.
When it finally hit me, a man stood in his place. Just the man, nobody else.
Suddenly, everything became clear. He wasn't a human; he wasn't a man. Maybe he was not human at all. He was simply the one who walked up behind me in an alley.
His clothes were elegant and yet, his face was so close that I could almost see his face, see the features of a man I once knew. Before I even knew it, he walked past me to stand right in my line of sight.
There he stood, just as he had stood every day for all eternity, waiting for me outside the gates of jail.
I can still see his silhouette, my only friend, even as I knew that is not who he was. It was only my imagination that the person standing in the alley was not the man I knew.
Who was he? Where did he come from? he was someone I've never met, someone I'm not supposed to know. The only difference is that now I am alive. I now have a purpose.
No one will ever torment me again, nor will they ever see me again. There is no one I want to see, no matter what happens to me.
As long as there is this man within my reach, there will always be me there, standing right beside him.
When I gaze at him, he looks back at me, speaking as his voice comes back to me. My voice will be as close to his as mine. I feel no longer alone and frozen, now surrounded by a man that remains a mystery to me.
The whole night and also the next day I can't forget that man. What he wants to me is related to the unknown package?