The rain poured down, thrashing against the cobbled floor as a girl splashed her foot in a puddle and grasped a hold onto the wall in front. She pushed herself up, against nature's provision, and jumped over the wall — landing on her hands and knees, over mud.
The sticky brown essence of soil trailed away with the rain, all over her body, providing her a vague moment of cleanliness shifting as it decided to sit, instead, inside her socks and shoes.
As she walked on the garden path, the sticky mud water in her shoes made her feet squirm inside the cheap white converse. Each step she took was a splosh, splosh, splosh as dirty water squeezed out and more rain water made its way in.
The mansion in front was dark as she climbed the steps to its door and banged her dirty fist over the wood.
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
"Mr. Kairos, open up!!"
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
Sock clad footsteps descended down the wooden staircase and slid over the marble in the foyer. With his night robe dragging behind his feet, a step away from toppling him into a broken back, he raced forward to match the haste of this untimely guest.
THUMP. THUMP. CLICK.
The door pulled open; him panting and her shivering.
Mr. Kairos narrowed his eyes at withering girl on his doorstep; dirty, shriveled and in some severe need of kindness. Her dark hair were pressed against her skin, along with leaves and dirt spots marking a path from her head to her collarbones. Her blue sweater clung, darkened, to her torso, dripping tears into the muddy jeans it was tugged in.
He noticed her teeth chatter.
"Come in!"
He said, at the same time as she asked, "May I?"
He stepped away from his doorframe and let a stranger into his foyer. She had the curtsey to close the door behind her, hands barely able to clutch the doorknob, albeit the tremors all of her was experiencing.
"I-I have a letter," she stuttered, and looked up. Her eyes caught his against the fluorescent foyer lamp, a passionate blue like the skies outside. He did not break the contact, but waited, as she got the affirmation from his eyes and dug her fingers into her jean pocket to produce a folded and drenched piece of paper.
"Good for you?" He replied, unsure, until she held out the piece for him to take.
"Oh!" He said as he pinched it out of her dirty hands and hung it at an arm's length.
Then, she took a step forward, looked him deeper in the eye, straightened her stance and raised her voice.
"It's from Madam Lovelace. She recommends me for an appointment. My name is Heidi. I want to work with you!"
He took several steps back to revel in astonishment. He deserved it; considering he was deep asleep mere minutes ago and now he has a strange girl at his behest, begging for employment while looking like the death's bell was tolling on her head.
He had questions, yes, but they could wait. He wasn't outright evil.
"You should wash up first, I will lend you some clothes. Let us continue this conversation in more...civil, yes, circumstances, shall we?" He asked and pointed toward the left of the foyer.
She nodded, eager with agreement, as he let her vibrating self into the guest room.
"The shower is that way, feel free to use anything. I will leave the clothes in the room and close the door, yeah?" He asked again as he opened the door leading to the bathroom.
"Yeah," she whispered, head hung low and shoulders hunched as she waddled inside, leaving behind a trail of dirty footsteps which made his nose scrunch.
He, begrudgingly, lent her a new shirt and trouser, horribly oversized and comfortable, along with a pair of slippers. As an individual, he found it hard to part from things, no matter how little and insignificant they were in his life.
The weight of the borrowed items would forever stay over his heart as he closed the door behind him and rested against it for a moment. One could only wonder, with mere observance, if he was downright selfish or petty dramatic.
The grandfather clock in the drawing room struck thirteen and he realised that he should contact Madam Lovelace. He had indeed asked his mentor to recommend him a capable assistant before he would officially join the family business. He had been away for almost a decade now and was forced back to his home country out of filial piety with two options at hand — inheriting the business or marrying to produce an heir who would then inherit the business.
Marriage was off the chart, certainly, there was no way he was getting attached to a whole human being around him, unpredictable and perishable. No. Inheriting the business, in the end, deemed to be the lesser evil since it would merely make him follow a routine, on worst days.
He climbed up the stairs to retrieve his phone and contact Madam Lovelace. The call, though, did not go through. Thrice.
So, he resorted to drying the soaked piece of paper with a hair dryer. He was meticulous with his hands, unfolding the layers as gently as one cloud, while drying each fold to make sure everything survives for his sight. Around the ten minute mark the paper was crisp and dry, a bit crumpled, but nothing incomprehensible.
The handwriting was unmistakably cursive and elegant, as of Madam Lovelace's and the letter boasted praises of an Oxford graduate — whose name suffered multiple creases — a girl, with a brilliant tact for business and marketing.
Kairos headed down the stairs again, to check on the stranger in his house, only to find her standing at the foot of his staircase. The sky lit up behind her and through the glass panes beside his mansion door he spotted the lock on his main gate.
An eerie feeling shot up his spine.
As thunder rumbled, Kairos noticed that the dirty footsteps that were leading up to the guest room had been wiped off. Everything seemed normal, if not for his clothes wearing a curly haired girl who stared up at him like a lost lamb.
An Oxford Business graduate who jumps walls and cleans floors with impeccable speed?
"I read the letter," he waved the crispy paper in his hand as he stepped down further. "What was your name, again, the letter seems to have damaged that part?" He asked, as the girl took a small step back with every step he took forward.
"Heidi Marsh, that's my name," she clarified.
"Why is an Oxford graduate in such woes to find a job? Am I missing something? A criminal record, perhaps?" He cracked a small smile on his lips as the girl instantly raised her hands to flail them in disagreement.
"No, no, please! I really wanted to work with Kairos Industries. It had been my dream ever since Madam Lovelace was my mentor. She had so much to say about you all..." Her words trailed off but there was a fondness in her tone. Nostalgia, maybe.
He led her into the kitchen and set the letter on the counter. "It read that Madam Lovelace is going on some therapeutic retreat for three years? Do you know something about it?" He asked as he rounded the counter and picked up the electric kettle.
"She has been working for as long as I can remember; maybe this is a well deserved break? You must know, she was never one to divulge people about the details of her life."
He set some water up for boiling and opened a drawer to glance at his refine collection of tea. "Is there a flavour you prefer?" He asked, quite tangential to their topic of conversation.
"Huh? Oh, no, I'm good for all," she replied, her eyes meandering from the boiling water to Mr. Kairos' hand on the drawer handle. He picked up a blue box and placed it on the counter top; it read, 'Jasmine Tea,' and as he turned to take out cups from the cabinet, she grimaced.
"Well, to check if your reputation merely proceeds you, shall we conduct an interview over tea?" He asked, as he washed two tea cups and filled them up with boiling water.
"I'd be highly obliged," she replied with a smile, standing behind the counter with her hands behind her back.
He dipped the tea bags in the boiling water and propped his elbows on the counter. His brows arched as he studied her stiff stance and competent eyes; then, he asked, "As a jobseeker, do you consider it appropriate of you to show up at your potential employer's house at 12:45 A.M.?"
She gulped and he followed the subtle movement of her shoulders squirming. "Better late than never, innit?" She flashed a toothy smile which did not reach her eyes, "You will be joining tomorrow morning and the lack of a secretary would have caused quite a number of inconveniences. So, I took the liberty of beating the weather in order to rid you of your potential inconveniences."
He pulled open another drawer and took out a small silver spoon with intricate details on its handle.
"Why waste a good business degree over the position of a Secretary?" He asked, quite genuinely concerned as he looked up at her whilst slowly stirring the tea.
"I only wish to be more than capable for Kairos Industries so that I can help you in your future pursuits. As the Head Secretary, my job description would include more than administrative tasks and I need to know more to keep up with the broad and the fast pace of the company."
He nodded, took a sip of his tea, and rounded the corner towards the living room. "Say, you receive urgent requests from the heads of all four divisions of Kairos, at the same time. How do you prioritize and manage these requests?"
He sat back in his seat, back well rested against the back rest of the couch. She stood in front of him, having left her steaming tea back on kitchen counter, as she replied.
"In scenario as such, I would assess the urgency and impact of each request. Prioritizing tasks that affect business operations or client relationships most critically would be my first step. Clear communication with each department head to explain the prioritization and expected timelines would help manage expectations effectively. Thereafter, I shall convey the matter to you in thus prioritised order."
He nodded. At least she had the basic skills to back up her wild presence. The skies raged on outside as he continued, "How would you handle a situation where there is a major administrative error that affects multiple divisions?"
Just like before, she was quick to answer, "In the event of a major administrative error, I would first contain the issue to prevent further impact. This would involve communicating transparently with affected parties and working with relevant departments to correct the error promptly. Conducting a post-mortem analysis would help identify the root cause and prevent future occurrences. The matter shall be reported after it has been contained, preferably within 24 hours, at maximum."
He sipped on the last of his tea with another nod. "I look forward to work with you, Ms. Marsh, you may drink your tea and take your leave now. I expect to see you at 9 in the morning," he passed her a small smile.
For someone who seemingly achieved their life long dream, Heidi did not show it on her face. Other than a smile reaching her eyes, her body betrayed no emotion to him.
"But I cannot leave," she said, smile intact but eyes wide enough to convey the urgency of her tone, "I must live with you!"
Mr. Kairos, who was about to stand up, stumbled back into the couch and stared at her with mild exasperation. "Excuse me?!" He asked, rhetoric.
"I-uh, I was sent to serve you. I mustn't leave your side and besides that, I have nowhere else to go." She explained, maintaining unbreakable eye contact with him.
"I do not need your eternal servitude, Ms. Marsh, I did not request for a Mr. Alfred to my Batman, thank you very much. Also, I'm not used to living with people, so please, I shall make arrangements for a better home tom—"
"No!" She cut through his words, quite audaciously. "I must stay with you or Madam Lovelace will withdraw her recommendation. You must, must, understand, I have nothing except for this job and your side. I cannot leave you!" There was something grim about the way she uttered the words 'must' and 'cannot' the sheer intensity of which made chills run down his spine.
Talk about being clingy.
"What about your family?"
"I have none. I am an orphan."
"Now I understand why they're so bent on making you stay with me," he sighed, "Ah, would the Guest Room suffice? I live on the first and second floor so let's have as minimal of contact outside work as possible, okay? I'm sure you are a professional person, Ms. Marsh." He rubbed his hands over his face, distraught and mildly sleepy.
"The most professional," Heidi replied as she held up three fingers in scout's honour.
He did not spare a glance at her as he left the cup on the living room table and headed upstairs. He locked the door behind him as he plopped himself on his bed, the onset of sleep consuming him like a drug as a single thought dominated his mind.
He should do a background check on her.