1
Oran
Gazing out over the skyline of what I considered one of myfavoritecities in America, I frowned as I lifted my glass to my lips. The high-rise made everything below seem so tiny and insignificant, and in many ways, things were. People were a commodity to be used and abused, traded and discarded, when they were no longer useful. Buildings were the Petri dishes of scum and breeders of idiotic schemes and power plays that were of absolutely no consequence beyond those involved.
“At least, that’s how it used to be.” Far, far down below, those people were ants to be crushed if they happened to stray too far out of line. Each person, each ant, has its place in line . . . but ants also had six legs with which to step out of that line, even if accidentally. Some ants don’t even have to break ranks to find themselves in trouble, and, just like ants, the line continues. The gap slowly narrows until it’s as if that ant was never there.
“Mr. Santino.” Turning as Malory slipped into my office, I wandered to my desk to set down my glass, and she didn’t look up from her tablet. “Your three o’clock is here. Also, Mason Stowel called again and threatened to sue if you refuse to contact him before eight a.m. on Monday. I need to know when you want to reschedule with the Hanford Construction Company concerning the budget-building, and Port Authority is . . . ”
She finally glanced up, and I took off my glasses to wipe the lenses as Malory held her tablet to her chest. Now, her discomfort blurred out, and I inhaled deeply as my mind churned toward the business at hand. Leaning my palm on my desk, I crossed my ankles as I put my glasses back on and exhaled slowly before speaking up.
“Get Landry in here tomorrow for a discussion on Stowel. Do you have a recording of all correspondence?” Nodding, Malory’s blonde curls bounced gently over her shoulders, and I tilted my head at her before she started tapping away on her tablet. “I don’t care about the budget-buildings. Get a senior analyst and someone from development. Reach a decision within two weeks or drop Hanford and find someone else. I don’t have the time or the inclination to deal with their attempt to inflate the project price or scope. We set our limitations, and they’re not negotiable.”
“I will pass the sternness and slight glare down as best I can.” Malory turned on her high heel and walked out, head ducked and eyes on her screen, and I hummed softly to myself. She was a good secretary, very beautiful, and very . . . typical. There was nothing exceptional about her, but even that wasn’t important to me.
Despite how stereotypically blonde, fair-skinned, and pencil-thin she was, Malory was smart enough to keep her skirt down around me. Whether it was a subconscious acknowledgment that I was dangerous, well, that was up for debate.
“It’s a good thing I don’t like blondes anymore.” I grabbed my drink to drain the last of my scotch and shook my head with a slight hiss. The shaded glass door swung open, and my eyes narrowed on one Vanessa Camponello. She strutted in as if she owned the place, hips swaying her silky black dress, and I couldn’t help but frown when she pulled off her sunglasses with a flourish. “What can I do for you today, my darling?”
“Are you aware that snake bitch is stealing my clients?”
“Yes. I recently bought a dog off her brother. She’ll be arriving over the weekend.” Vanessa waspissedabout that little tidbit of information, and I rounded the front of my desk to lean on the metal-framed glass. Her face tinged pink, which was a feat considering the amount of makeup she caked on, she crossed her arms over her chest tightly. “Is there something you want, specifically, or did you want to complain about your own incompetence disguised as professional slander?”
“What are you going to do about this, Oran?” My eyelid twitched at the question, and Vanessa shuffled uneasily as I cocked my head quizzically. I owed that snakenothing, but I couldn’t help wondering why I was expected to either defend or offend her. Vanessa huffed as the silence stretched, growing more agitated, and I straightened to inhale a deep, calming breath.Honestly, this was pretty fun.
“Now, let’s review. You waited a month for this appointment, correct? You not only waited that month, but I believe it’s safe to assume that at that time, you didn’t attempt to fix this issue yourself, correct? Not only did younotmake an attempt, but you expected me to not only side with you but to clean up your mess as well, correct? Do I have that right?” I spoke slowly, letting each darkening lilt of my tone hit Vanessa in the face, and I picked up my glass to turn it between my fingers. She kept her mouth shut this time, and her nervousness was like a fresh of breath air as I examined the glass. “Do you know what all of that says to me, Vanessa? That you can’t do your job, and I very much believe I don’t appreciate people that can’t, orwon’t, do their job.”
“Oran, I—" Rearing my arm back, I threw the glass at Vanessa’s feet, and she jumped with a petrified squeak of shock and fear. Her gasp slithered into my ears like oil, and my lip curled as she tried to hold herself stiff. I barely heard the glass shattering, I was so focused on her, but still, she shivered in fear. Fixing my glasses up my nose, I clenched my jaw hard and took another calming breath.
She wasn’t worth my anger.
“Shut the fuck up, Vanessa. You know as well as I do you’ll only make an excuse, and I don’t care for excuses. You waited a month to tell me in a scheduled meeting something so important I knew about it before I even entered Seattle. And not only that, you attempted to place the blameon mefor your failures. You’ve lost a total of seven clients over less than as many months. Here’s what you’re going to do.” Striding over to her, I enjoyed her whimper, the way she tried not to shy away, and the slight rustle of her mahogany waves. “You’re going to turn around. You’re going to walk out that door. Then, you’re going to turn back around and watch me shut that door.”
Grabbing her long, sharp jaw, my nails dug into Vanessa’s cheeks as she cried out, her eyes widening in horror. The stench of her perfume was suffocating, and I held my breath as my sneer darkened.
“Good luck getting to your car, Vanessa. You’re fired.” Jerking her away, I stepped over her as she stumbled over her heels and into the sofa against the wall. She hid behind her hair, taking a moment as my declaration sunk in, and I pulled open the door sharply. “Malory! Request a cleaner in my office and inform her or him that there’s glass!”
“Yes, sir.” Rising off the floor like muck about to bubble from toxic gas, Vanessa wiped her nose and mouth delicately. She flipped her hair, taking a sharp, huffy breath. Even her fucking nose and chin seemed sharper.Like a cartoon villain. Tugging her dress down, Vanessa swept back her hair, and I gestured out into the lobby with a wave.
“How can you look at yourself in the mirror?” Vanessa sounded so bitter, somehow, and I arched a brow quizzically. So, she resorted to personal attacks. A compliment for all intents and purposes.
“You sound upset at me, as if it’s my fault you didn’t do your job and can’t accept the repercussions of your inability. You know, Vanessa, my brother may see the value in allowing people to learn from their mistakes, but you’ve made the same mistake . . . how many times now?” Amusement tickled my throat and infected my voice, and she glared at me hotly even as she idled by the sofa. “Even Mateo doesn’t get seven chances, my darling. There are six more months to this year, and I’m not spending a single one of those one hundred eighty-three days concerned with your . . . eighth mistake.”
Vanessa started shuffling toward me, tiny and frail, and I frowned when she came close enough I could count her eyelashes.
“By the way, I look at myself in the mirror with my glasses on. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to preen.” This time, she didn’t look at me, and I sighed in satisfaction when she slipped silently past. Like an ant, she scurried away, trying to run, trying to escape.
I’m very good at aiming my heel.
