Friday August 27, 2017 9:05am
Hato Enterprise Main Office
...
There were fifteen steps between this corner and the ornate oak door of her father’s office. Ten and a half if her strides were long. If she moved too fast she would be reprimanded. Too slow and her father would make her enter again. ‘A leader commanded the presence of their audience from the moment they walked into a room.’ At twenty-three it was past time she learned that.
“Get those contracts in my inbox. I asked for them to be there an hour ago.”
Amia inwardly winced as she listened to her father, Arlo Hato, direct his secretary. His voice was even, devoid of emotion and downright condescending. When he spoke in that tone it sent a chill down the recipient’s spine. Man or woman. Young or old. They all bowed to his command. She observed the object of her father’s disdain dutifully from her corner of the office.
The poor woman wasn’t much older than herself and very very green to the ways of her father. The CEO of Hato Enterprise was known for chewing up assistants and spitting them out in less than thirty days. How long had this secretary been on their payroll? It felt like just last week she’d introduced herself. The secretary demurred under his prolonged icy stare. The man was known to never ask twice. If he had to that meant expulsion from the company…or worse.
“Yes sir. I’ll get right on it.”
Arlo turned back to his computer and continued to rattle off commands as if the woman would be able to remember all of that. Amia ticked off all the boxes in her mind as his lists of demands grew longer. Of meetings he wished to cancel and those he wanted bumped up. Of project updates and late revenue reports. Her father was nothing if not taxing. One didn’t get to be the head of a successful conglomerate otherwise. She supposed that was the point of her standing in this corner, being seen but not heard. Her father wished for his executive style to rub off on her. To be direct. Concise. Unyielding in all things big or small. Unfortunately for him she identified more with his coffee-deprived secretary. Overwhelmed and overworked.
“Amia.”
At the sound of her name she snapped to full attention and found grey eyes that mirrored her own staring back.
“Has the rep from Uri gotten back to us about the steel bid?” her father asked.
“Not yet sir but I plan to check in again this afternoon.”
Her father frowned and his secretary snuck worried glances in her direction. Arlo Hato was known to not take excuses for any reason. If it took sending a carrier pigeon to Uri to get a response that was what had to be done. Amia waited for him to say more but was instead met with silence. Punishment for not completing the one task she’d been asked to do. After a pregnant pause she and the secretary took their leave of the room, closing the heavy oak door to the office behind them. With her back to the door, the secretary pressed a hand to her chest and let out a long breath she’d been holding. When she turned to Amia her eyes were glassy with unshed tears.
“I don’t remember anything he said.” She whispered, panic dripping from every word. “He’s going to kill me!”
Amia understood that feeling better than anyone. She’d grown up feeling that way every day of her life. Standing on the edge of a knife.
“I…” She started softly. “I can help you if you like.”
She held out her hand to take the secretary’s notepad. She remembered everything her father wanted and could recite it back word for word. The secretary’s face paled, shocked that she’d spoken, and shook her head. Awkwardness hung in the air as she retracted her hand and the secretary scurried to her desk to begin working. The rejection only stung a little. She could understand that the dark cloud that hung over her head was ominous to all she encountered. One wrong move and their entire livelihood would vanish…and she made a lot of wrong moves.
Thus, no one wanted help from the failed Hato heiress.
…
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The first, and arguably most important, rule when interacting with others in this world is that one must be competent. Competence could mean a variety of things to different people. To her father, competence meant complete and utter obedience to their mission which was to ensure the continued success of their family.
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For her older cousin and little sister, it meant getting the better end of the deal and the Hato name always rising to the top.
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To Amia, it meant someone actually responding to her email.
The computer monitor had remained unchanged for over three hours despite her constant vigilance. She sighed as she used her mouse to click the refresh button for the umpteenth time. Nothing. How hard could it be to get a straight answer?
Frustrated, she pushed away from her desk and spun limply in her swivel chair. One rotation. Two rotations. Her arms dangled off the sides as she stared up at the ceiling. Her cousin always made it look so easy. He had no trouble getting meetings and closing deals. Doors would automatically open when he walked into a room. People would clamor for his attention and seek his counsel while she was faced with radio silence on a good day. Or avoidance on a bad one.
With a sigh, Amia twirled one of her dark curls around her finger as she got up from her chair and paced the length of her office. Thirty steps from one end to the other. Forty if her strides were short. The entire back wall was nothing but windows that gave a breathtaking scene of the bustling city below. Not that she ever had time to look out at the multimillion-dollar view. She heard it was spectacular though based on her best friend Ellie's assessment. No, Amia mainly kept her eyes glued to her computer screen which remained infuriatingly the same. Dammit.
She didn't want to tell her father that she had been blown off again. He was sure to give her another lecture on how the "Hato name was important and as such blah blah blah". Amia folded her arms over her chest and huffed. Just once she'd like for something to go in her favor. She glanced at the monitor. Still nothing. Maybe she should call? No, that would just make her look desperate. Hatos should never look desperate. Maybe she should send another email? She frowned, that was just as desperate as calling. But…it couldn't be helped, she needed a response. Swallowing her pride and the little voice that told her not to, she stretched her fingers and began to craft yet another email. Who knows, maybe they just didn't get the first one…
On the behalf of the Hato International Enterprise, we would like to follow up on an inquiry put forth by the Uri Corporation...
She reread each line of the email and double-checked that the address was correct, just as she hit the send button her cell phone rang. Ellie's picture popped up on the screen and her upbeat ringtone brightened the otherwise dreary atmosphere of the office. Amia smiled as she slid her finger across the screen to answer the call, Ellie always seemed to have the best timing.
"Hey, Ami!" Ellie's voice shouted happily through the phone that Amia had put on speaker.
"You have been trapped in that boring old office all day. When are you going to come out to play with me?"
Amia looked around at her office. The empty white walls lacked any personal effects and the large desk in front of her that had paperwork strewn across it haphazardly was indeed boring.
"Oh, I don't know. There's still a lot of work I need to take care of here first." Amia replied. She hit the refresh button. Still nothing.
"You're coming out tonight, it's Friday, you haven't been out since you-know-who, and I won't take no for answer!"
"I really can't-"
"Ah bububuh! Not taking no for answer, besides Iris will be there and there's a certain someone here that wants to see you!"
"Hey, Ami! I'm back!" A cheery voice giggled and Amia looked at her phone like it was a foreign object.
"Sara?" Amia asked, barely able to contain her astonishment and the voice on the other end squealed.
"Yes! It's me! I'm here on a business trip and I don't know how long we will be staying so you have to come out!"
"I don't know-"Amia began as she clicked refresh again.
"Pleeeaaaaasse!" Sara whined and when Amia sighed the woman on the other end let out a whoop of victory.
"Great! I'll text you the details!" Ellie piped back in and her phone once again went silent.
Amia smiled to herself. She really did need to get out more. Staring at the same white walls could be taxing on a person. Every morning she arrived before her staff and left well after the custodian had completed their rounds. She wouldn’t allow herself to go home with unfinished business to attend to. Not if she didn't want to disappoint her father again. Everything needed to be done to his exact specifications… No excuses.
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…
Friday, August 27 2017, 6:35 pm
Mystic
….
The music was loud and the lights were so low it was hard to see. Few people milled around the dance floor but the night was still quite young. In less than an hour there would barely be room to stand. Amia seethed as she ordered a drink from the bartender and slid onto one of the empty barstools. She needed something strong. Really strong. She had gotten to the location Ellie had talked about a bit early. An entire hour early. After sending a third email she finally got a response, and it certainly was not what she expected.
The terms with which the previous two emails were sent are not ones we are interested in compromising at this time. Until our conditions are met, U.C. Will be unable to continue correspondence.
SU
Amia had never wanted to punch anything or anyone so much in her life. She had spent the better part of yesterday condensing her father's steel bid proposal. She had poured over the spreadsheets and meeting notes in an attempt to convey the terms of the bid in a way that could be shared in something as simple as an email. Then she sat chained to her desk today, eagerly awaiting a response that when it arrived made her grit her teeth. He hadn't even gone into detail as to what the issue was, instead, he just blew her off. She had thought of sending a passive-aggressive email in back detailing just how generous their terms were but thought better of it.
While every fiber in her being wanted to, this bid had too much money hanging in the balance to burn bridges. It was best if she just waited until Monday to tell Ezra of her difficulties and ask for tips on handling this bid. Not wanting to stew in her failure any longer, she headed directly to the location that Ellie had sent without changing out of her office clothes. She hoped that she would be in a better head space by the time her friends arrived.
The bartender placed a glass of dark liquid and a napkin in front of her and she was torn from her anxious thoughts. Eagerly she allowed the bitter drink to flow down her throat in an effort to relax from the stress of the day. When she was about halfway finished she noticed that on the napkin was a number messily scrawled in blue ink. Amia looked up at the sparsely populated bar to see a man with dark brown hair flash a broad smile and wave at her. Amia sent what she thought looked like a smile back, slipped the napkin from under her glass, and discreetly crumpled it up in her hand under the bar. The man who had sent the note seemed to be none the wiser of its disposal for he continued to throw smiles her way. She did her best to ignore him but every ten minutes he seemed to move down a seat or two.
Amia raised her glass to take another sip and frowned when only ice hit her lips. Without realizing it, she had already finished. She raised her hand to get the bartender's attention and they delivered another drink. This one was much stronger than the first and for that, she would have to remember to tip the bartender extra. The man who had sent the note was still making his way closer and closer, she could feel his eyes analyzing her. She shifted uncomfortably in her own seat and did her best not to make eye contact. As he got three seats away she ordered yet another drink.
"Hey, beautiful!" The man yelled over the loud music. "What's someone like you doing in a place like this?"
Sensing that the best course of action was to not say anything, Amia swirled her straw in her drink and ignored his statement. Maybe he would lose interest if she pretended to be mute. Just as the man began to open his mouth again to get her attention, another stepped in and took the empty seat between them. His jaw was set tight, dark hair contrasted sharply with his smooth pale skin, and an intimidating aura rolled off him in waves. Judging by his well-tailored suit, it appeared that he was just getting off from work as well. He spared a short glance in her direction, causing her to gulp and look away. The interloper motioned to get the bartender's attention, ignoring the shocked expression on the face of the man beside him.
"Hey dude, we were just talking here." The man said in a fake affable voice.
He attempted to place a hand on the intruder's shoulder but the murderous vibes that surrounded the man made him rethink that course of action. He moved away and slid into the empty bar stool on Amia's other side. For the umpteenth time she cursed herself for coming so early. Her friends were such centers of attention that she could fade into the background and not have to deal with men like this. If she made a run for the door how long would it take her to get out? People were already starting to fill up the dance floor.
"Anyway, before we were rudely interrupted-" the man said, leaning in close and boldly placing a hand on her knee under the bar.
"I-I-I have a boyfriend!" Amia sputtered and a blush began to spread over her cheeks. The man was not deterred.
"There's no need to be shy, beautiful. He can't be that great if he left you all alone here." He said, moving his hand higher up her thigh. "Why don't you and I go somewhere to get to know each other better?"
"No, I…I'm fine here." Amia pushed away his persistent hand but he only used it to grab her upper arm and pull her closer.
"C'mon beautiful-"
"She said no." The Interloper on her other side spoke up without looking in their direction. The other man let go of her arm and glared.
"So what are you? Her boyfriend?" He sneered.
The Interloper turned and looked Amia up and down, cold obsidian eyes analyzing every detail of her appearance. If it were even possible his eyes seemed to darken as he took in her every feature in a primal, calculating way. Heat pooled on her face and in the pit of her stomach. After a pause, he finished his assessment and took another sip of his drink.
"No."
Amia looked back and forth between the two men as though she were watching a tennis match. Which one would blink first? In the end, the pushy brunette seemed to see this as a fight not worth continuing and slunk off to the dance floor to find easier prey. Amia watched him go, a sense of relief washing over her with every step he took. She placed a hand over her fluttering heart and took a big gulp of her drink to calm her nerves. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that her savior, if he could even be called that, had finished his first drink and was on to another one. He seemed to have forgotten her existence at his side which was perfectly fine with her. Being ignored was something she was used to.
She glanced down at her phone screen and swiped to check the time. Her friends should be arriving soon. She just had to hold out until then. She took another sip of her drink and scrolled through her emails once again. Nothing much had changed in her inbox but she had received several pointed reminders from her father's secretary of a business luncheon early tomorrow afternoon with her father and cousin. She frowned as her thumb hovered over the rude email she had received from the Uri Corporation and felt her mood darken further. Her father would want to know how far along she was on the Uri inquiry tomorrow and would be in for a disappointment when he heard how she had been blown off. For a brief moment, Amia debated sending a response but decided that it was best to not email while tipsy.
She was beginning to feel a fuzzy pressure building behind the forefront of her temple, alerting her to the fact that she had been much too hasty with her first two drinks. Sighing, she put the phone down and looked around the bar. She had been here plenty of times before but it never failed to make her feel out of her element. The music seemed to have risen in volume and the lights had gotten even darker. People were filing into the club and filling up the dance floor. Strobe lights bounced off of sequins and leather, painfully reminding her of her frumpy black blazer that was much too hot to wear inside of a club. She watched as bodies gyrated against each other easily to the beat of the music and wondered just how they got their hips to move that way. She was swaying in time to the music on her barstool when she felt a tap on her right shoulder.
She turned around and was immediately faced with a pair of stern black eyes. His gaze was directed at what she presumed was something behind her. What the heck did he want? She attempted to return to her drink only to feel an arm wrap around her shoulders and pull her close. His fingers tightened around the loose material of her blazer as he pulled her in. Too close, much too close. She tensed as she felt his liquor-laced breath tickle her ear.
"I helped you. Now you help me." He whispered in her ear. Only then did he let her go and returned to his drink.
Amia chanced a furtive glance in the direction she'd seen the man look. There was a tall blonde woman at the other end of the bar casting death glares at her and stirring her drink with her straw angrily. Was he trying to use her to dodge this woman? Amia turned back to him with an incredulous expression. He merely smirked, unfazed by her confusion, and tucked some of her long curly hair behind her ear. His fingertips brushed her cheek and she flinched as a spark shot through them. He did not appear bothered by her reaction, instead choosing to rub his thumb over her increasingly red skin. Behind them, Amia heard the loud scraping of a barstool accompanied by the dull thud of glass hitting wood.
"Now we're even." He said and dropped his hand and ordered another drink.
Amia felt her infuriating blush finally begin to subside when he began ignoring her once more. Where in the world were her friends? She could leave the bar and go find somewhere else to mill about but she'd run the risk of bumping into that pushy guy from before. The sound of yet another drink being placed in front of her made her look up to see a redhead with multiple facial piercings giving her the eye from five seats away. It was pink with a salt rim, and from the smell of it, undoubtedly fruity. Her heart sank as she imagined another uncomfortable exchange.
Suddenly, a pale hand took the drink and slid their own her way in exchange. The man downed the bright drink in a few short gulps, all the while maintaining eye contact with the redhead that had sent it. Amia’s lips twitched into an almost smile as she sipped the much less vibrant, bitter drink in front of her. They were not so even now. She peered over the glass at the man sitting next to her, his once impassive face was now scrunched in a grimace from downing such an offensively sweet drink so quickly. He didn't seem so intimidating anymore. Her phone vibrated loudly on the bar top taking her attention away from the frowning man.
We are running late! Sorry! – Ellie
Amia sighed, of course, they would be running late. She ran her finger over the rim of her glass. Her friends were never known to be the promptest individuals.
"Your boyfriend standing you up?" The man next to her asked with a brand new less fruity drink in hand.
"No, my friends are just running late." She replied the man raised a skeptical eyebrow.
"Look over there at the right end of the bar." The man directed and she looked over to where she was told. A man that appeared to be just a bit younger than her father was hyper-focused on everything but her. What made this guy think that he'd buy her a drink? "That guy over there is going to try to buy you another drink in 3..2..."
Amia's eyes widen when another voraciously girly drink, this time iridescent green, was handed her way with a number written on the napkin. The bartender pointed a thumb in the direction of the sender and sure enough, the man next to her had been correct in his prediction. The man looked up from his phone and when they made eye contact, hurriedly looked down again. She reached for the glass reluctantly only to have it taken away from her.
"Wha-" she started although grateful she didn't have to drink it.
"Don't take drinks from men unless you plan on fucking them later." He answered and drank down half of the glass.
The petite woman blushed and nodded. She had never really had to think about that before. Usually, her friends were always around and they were the ones that men bought drinks for. Why was tonight so different? She ran a nervous hand through her hair. She was sure she didn't look any different than normal...
"Thank you." She said and the man next to her just gave her a curious look. It appeared as though he were about to say something when a woman with lavender hair and a skintight red dress inserted herself between them. She boldly placed a hand on his arm.
"Hey, my friend over there thinks you look really cute. Why don't you come over and join our table?" She asked seductively, batting her eyelashes the entire time.
"Not interested." The man replied, unfazed at her attempts to flirt. The woman looked at Amia and her target as though in disbelief that someone so handsome would be interacting with a frumpy office woman.
"Your loss." She said with a shrug of her shoulders and moved on to relay the defeat to her friend.
"Is it always so busy?" The man huffed to no one in particular and Amia felt her first true smile of the night emerge. "Is there anywhere in this town to get a drink and not be hassled?"
Amia bit her bottom lip and glanced at her phone which still lay dormant on the bar top. Ellie and the others were now over an hour late and there would probably be a long line outside of the club by the time they arrived. She glanced back over at the guy beside her who was rejecting yet another suitor that approached him. He didn't seem to enjoy the extra attention at all, something she could deeply empathize with. She could always return to the club when her friends sent her a text. Taking a deep breath, she tapped him on the shoulder and pointed towards the exit. He raised an eyebrow but followed her out nonetheless.
….
Friday, August 27, 9:00 pm
Hydrangea Park
….
"This certainly isn't busy." The raven-haired man said as he clumsily popped open the tab of a beer, the white foam gushing out from the top of the can and spilling over his hand. Luckily he had the foresight to remove his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves so there was no mess.
Amia smiled at his mistake as she removed her stifling blazer, sat on the park bench, and kicked off her black loafers. She placed the convenience store bag next to her and pulled out a beer for herself. Her eyes slid close as she pressed the cold aluminum to her warm forehead. The alcohol she had partaken in earlier was starting to catch up with her. Even though the night air was temperate her skin still felt like it was on fire. After a moment of futile attempting to cool herself down, she opened the can and allowed the smooth contents to run down her throat.
"Do you usually drink in kiddie parks in the middle of the night?" The man asked sarcastically with a smirk. Amia crossed her arms over her chest and frowned as she remembered what had put her in such a bad mood in the first place.
"Only when I'm angry." She replied, her frown deepening. "I…I can't drink at home. Father and the elders wouldn't allow it."
"Father?" The man snorted and took another sip of his beer. "Aren't you an adult? Just do whatever you want."
"It's not about being an adult. It's about respecting the wishes of your family." Amia felt her cheeks begin to flush once more.
"Respect is earned, not given."
The two of them stared at each other unblinkingly in the light of a flickering streetlamp, neither unwilling to back down from their stance. Amia noted that his eyes seemed vaguely familiar. She was sure she had seen them before but she couldn't quite place where. She finally broke their eye contact and finished off the beer she was holding. She moved to reach into the bag to grab another one but was stopped by the man lazily holding a can out to her.
"Thank you." She mumbled and cracked open the can.
"You are interesting." The man smirked and Amia blinked in surprise.
"What? Why?" She asked, flustered by his statement. He took a sip of his beer, mirth dancing in his eyes as he took in her discomfort.
"For starters," He said, taking a step closer with each word. "You have an odd habit of drinking alone in parks. You show up to a bar alone in your work clothes. You get hit on by men but don't understand the first rule of engagement when it comes to social interactions between men and women."
Amia blushed as the man leaned down and placed both hands on the back of the bench behind her head. His warm breath washed over her, ladened with the smell of liquor. She was sure her breath smelled the same. His dark eyes kept her frozen in place, unable to squirm or move, mesmerized by the unparalleled depth within them.
"Don't take drinks from men unless you plan to fuck them."