“Nell! Can you sign this?”
“Miss Miller! Please, just take a look at this resume!”
“Nell! Do you have time for a meeting at 2?”
The throngs of office workers, interns, and other corporate professionals trailed after Nell like pigs after slop. At the sight of one of the company’s higher-ups, who could blame them? They all hungered after some slice of the same prestige and power radiating off of the legendary Nell Miller. Yet, despite the cacophony, she remained stoic and coolly focused on her path through the office. The nobility of her haute couture suit made her employees look like the homeless and her curt stride sent them stumbling over their own heels.
As she made her way through the floor the crowd filtered away. They started to realize she was making her way to her proper position that was The Boardroom.
The cramped carbon fiber ceiling of the common office floor shifted to towering glass domes dozens of feet above her head. The tinted light from the glass dimmed the hall so that the only way to properly see was from the soft gilded glow radiating from numerous pillars lining each side. In between each duo of pillars were posters displaying the company’s many successes over the past seven years. Nell smiled in satisfaction as she passed each poster; her many prides and joys. She could still remember so vividly the launch and subsequent success of each product.
Her smile shined at its brightest once she locked onto their very first product: Meanoxaprone. Revolutionary medication specifically engineered to an individual’s biological processes to target the exact issue they have to endure. It transformed the medical field–
And every Waltaire exec’s wallets.
Finally, Nell approached the doors to The Boardroom. The glass of the wall in front of her was muddled so only faint blurs of the executives inside were visible. Nell held her hand against the scanning pad on the right of The Boardroom’s entrance. It flickered blue as it scanned her hand then flashed green to confirm her identity. The two doors slid apart to welcome one of its directors inside.
The room hushed to dead silence as Nell entered, only the soft clack of her oxfords on the ground echoed. She took her post at the far end corner of the table with the excellent view of the Richmond skyline shrunken behind glass; more notably, however, her seat was on the right hand side of the CEO. It was among the few seats left empty.
“Well, don’t let me stop you,” Nell called out to the watchful executives. “Go on, keep talking. It’ll be a while until Daniels, Robin, and Iacona arrive.” They gladly returned to their idle chatter.
“Wow, Miller, almost had me fooled as the CEO,” the Chief Marketing Officer beside her quipped.
“Have some respect, Romanov,” Nell shot back with a scoff. “With what I’ve done for Waltaire, I might as well be.”
“Don’t let Daniels catch you saying that,” she replied deviously. Nell laughed.
“How’s marketing been lately?”
“You know how they are. With the recent launch of our consumer self-diagnosis service, I’ve been hearing pitches for campaigns left and right. I think we landed on the right one, but Jesus,” Romanov huffed. “Not even my assistant can keep up with this entire circus.”
“At least they’re staying busy, y’know.”
“Better here than at Portsmouth,” Romanov agreed, spitting out the corp’s name.
As the two talked, Robin and Iacona entered a few minutes between each other. Robin was much like the actual bird, with his short and pudgy stature contrasting his narrow beak-like features. Iacona, on the other hand, was gaunt, tall, and hidden behind thick mirror shades. Out of respect the rest of The Board hushed like they did with Nell, but resumed without their permission once they sat down. A sign of disrespect? Probably, but they didn’t have the same status since they were simply regional presidents.
Finally, CEO Daniels arrived. The entire Boardroom immediately silenced and shot up from their seats. Daniels was the quintessential CEO: Back straight, puffed chest, broad shoulders, clean-cut hair, close shave, and bright, cunning eyes. His navy pinstripe suit was made with rare organic silks and his gloves were rough-hewn, real zebra leather. One would think he was a king by the way he walked to his seat, but the facade broke as he greeted each Board member with a smile and casual laugh. His smile warmed once he reached Nell.
“How have you been, Director Miller?”
“C’mon, be for real! Better than ever.”
“That’s the Nell I know!” he chuckled.
Daniels sank into his plush leather chair and the rest of The Board followed. He then began his spiel of the meeting.
“Now, we’re here to talk about how the quarter has been and compile our findings for the investor’s presentation. I’m pretty sure we all know that Waltaire is on the up and up, of course.” The room laughed uproariously. “But investors nowadays love crunching numbers, so it's up to us to give it to them. After all, we’re not going to use our own money to run this business!
“But before we get to that, I’d love to introduce to you all our newest Board member! You can come on in, now,” he called.
The doors slid open and in walked the newest member. Nell could feel the air drop to a chill around her.
He wore a pitch black suit which made him almost mold into the dark light of The Boardroom. His shoes made a deafening CLACK! demanding rapt attention to his next move; he definitely looked like you had to. He had the same curt strut as Daniels and his hair was slicked back in a fade only fit for his lofty status. However, he kept his stare firmly on the ground. He didn’t look up to even so much as acknowledge his new colleagues. He sat at the far end of the table housing the only empty chair.
“This is Morrigan, our new International Business Representative. As you guys might already know, he replaced Troy.” Daniels motioned across the table. “Anything to say, Morrigan?”
“I look forward to working with you all.” was his snipped reply. His voice was harsh and cold. Not a single note of sincerity sang out in his words. The chill Nell felt turned to ice in her veins.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
It was the first time she truly felt uncomfortable in The Boardroom.
Nell didn’t really pay much mind to the rest of the endless droning taking up the meeting. She could just ask her assistant to call someone else for the key notes, after all. Instead, she stared across at Morrigan. She wanted to map out what made him tick, exactly what he was paying attention to, what he might want, anything she should know about this newcomer making her feel this way.
Yet, all the while, he remained frozen. His hands were neatly folded in his lap and his gaze remained downturned. Not a single word was uttered, not even any breath escaped him.
Nell shifted in her leather stake of a seat.
The meeting came to a close while Nell endlessly dwelled in her speculation of Morrigan. She had to blink herself to the present. She rushed to stand up and hurriedly began to say her goodbyes to everyone except Morrigan. As soon as she could, she bolted out of The Boardroom and back to her apartment. Nell had to get out of that room at all costs, she had bigger fish to fry than some guy! She needed to prepare for a company banquet in the evening!
She pushed any thoughts of Morrigan still lingering in her mind away and set her attention on getting ready.
----------------------------------------
Waltaire’s banquets reflected its affluent– almost disgusting– success. They reserved the entire Old City Hall of Richmond and blocked off any traffic except for their employees in a 3 block radius. Well, important employees; the types that could afford Ytri limos and Cavalli supercars. Waltaire’s security personnel were armed to the teeth to keep it that way. At any passing civilian car they lifted their rifles. Nell’s limo made it by simply through a short glance.
As she stepped out in front of the building she felt right at home. All the rich executives and managers were dressed to the nines with their elaborate gowns and carefully trimmed suits. In their little cliques they laughed, gossiped, and networked around cocktail tables spread across the front lawn draped in gluttonous frivolities. In between the crowds weaved small six-legged androids carrying silvered platters on top of their squared heads, decadent in all types of hors d'oeuvres. Whenever the androids were emptied, they returned inside Old City Hall to collect more from its completely automated kitchen. On a small stage in the center of the front lawn played a humanless orchestra playing instruments coordinated by sets of mechanical arms. All the modern technology proved a complete contrast against the centuries old gothic spires of Old City Hall’s architecture.
Nell swooped after one of the server androids to take a flute of Prosecco. After downing half the glass, she carved her way inwards. Of course, all of middle management and the higher-ups ogled after her, much like their subordinates. So as to not get as much attention, she decided to keep it simple tonight with a pitch black gown lined on the inside with a faint violet glow. But, her face was recognizable from a mile away to anyone dedicated to the company.
Once she got inside, the chatter was amplified to a roar by the vaulted stone ceilings and the thunder of footsteps hammered on the ancient tile below them. Before she could make a move to enjoy the party, Nell felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around and it was none other than Romanov.
“Miller! Good to see you could make it. I was about to leave if you didn’t show,” she chuckled. Romanov was in an incredibly elaborate gown complete with a train and meticulous shoulder piece. Her makeup and hair team deserved a raise for the work they did on her for the evening.
“Well, who am I to pass up a night to enjoy not on my dime?” Nell joked. Romanov laughed.
“Cheers to that!” She clinked her Old Fashioned with Nell’s Prosecco. “Just wait until people start to get antsy. Soon enough, the banquet will turn into an absolutely bacchanal.”
“Couldn’t you’ve invited me when that happened? These types of things are so zausting.”
“Consider this a pregame, if you will. Remember when you loved these cocktail hours, back in the starting days?”
“I got rich so I didn’t have to do cocktail hours anymore,” Nell clarified. She downed the rest of her drink and swapped it for a new one off a passing android.
“And you have to keep doing it to stay rich,” Romanov replied haughtily. Nell rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help the grin tugging on her face.
“Yeah, yeah, okay. Introduce me to someone who won’t make me pass out, would you?”
That’s how the first couple hours of the night went. In between glasses of bubbly, Romanov and Nell chatted up some of the other guests. Nell only half paid attention, throwing a laugh here and an ooh there, and instead opted to focus on the future of the night.
Fortunately for her, it came soon.
The androids permanently retired to the depths of Old City Hall and the orchestra powered down. The tall tables littering the property sank into openings hidden underneath the ground and were replaced with a dance floor rising up in the center of the hall. Dance music ruptured and suddenly the clean cut corpos of Richmond turned into the rest of the city’s filth. Ties and heels went flying, drinks spilled over others, and some began to enjoy the more illicit offerings of the night.
Nell was in the center of it all; the lights were a blur and the music rocked her soul. What harm could a little bit of Kaliope in the bathroom cause? Does it really matter who was the man or woman she decided to dance with for a few minutes? It was a night to enjoy! If her dress got dirty, the dry cleaners can cover it. If she woke up with a raging hangover, nothing some aspirin can’t fix.
It was everything she could ask for— No, it was everything she worked for.
Yet, inevitably, she had to leave. It was customary for The Board members to leave first so as to at least give the illusion of superiority. Nell was the very last of The Board to leave. Nell’s heels were in her hands and the ground below her wavered. She hobbled over to the door of her limo that her oh-so patient driver kept open. She tossed her shoes in and leaned in to sit.
“Excuse me,” a disquieting voice sounded behind her. Her mind abruptly sobered.
Whipping around, she found Morrigan standing there. His gaze remained down-turned. Disturbingly enough, his suit faced zero sign of any enjoyment of the banquet; it was just as pristine as when he first arrived. “I don’t think we formally met.”
“N-No. No we didn’t,” Nell stammered. This was the worst time for this! Couldn’t he get the memo?
He held a hand out. “I’m Representative Morrigan. You are Director Miller.”
Nell limply shook it. “Good to meet you.”
“I see you had a good night.”
“Uh, yeah . . . Yeah, I did.” She mumbled. “I gotta go, though, so—“
“I know, that was all.” He paused. “Although, I did want to leave you with one thing.”
She nodded for him to go on. He looked like two at this point and Nell was keen to black out at home. So if that’s what made him shut up, so be it.
“We just met, but you ought to start saying your goodbyes.”
“ . . . What?”
“Enjoy your evening. Won’t be long, now.”
“. . . What the hell are you talking about?”
“You’ll find out soon enough,” was his cryptic reply. “Goodbye.”
With that, he turned and disappeared out of her field of view, leaving Nell simply astonished. She couldn’t make heads or tails of what he just said and the party still buzzing around in her mind didn’t help. She needed a clear thought to process this.
She opted to collapse inside of her limo and stare at the ceiling. What the hell was he on? Couldn’t be what she had, that’s for sure.
This was definitely a morning thing.