I manage a small laugh, but file away the information. The last thing I need is to lose this job because I don’t listen.
As we work on splitting the mail into the correct bins, he fills the silence with gossip like it’s part of the training manual.
“So,” he says casually, “you probably already heard abouthim.”
I hesitate. “Who?”
Danny snorts. “Ethan Taylor. Owner. CEO. Human stress disorder,” he says, cackling.
My stomach gives a small, strange turn. I hate having bosses. I don’t do very well with authoritative figures.I get defensive and feel the need to argue. I’m much better on my own, dictating my own terms, but I’m aware here I will have to bite my tongue. But I doubt I will have anything to do with this Ethan. Why would he need to talk to the mail boy?
“He’s really intimidating, but cool. He built the place up in, like, five years. Scary smart. Doesn’t yell much, which is worse.”
“Why?”
“Because when he’s quiet, someone’s getting fired.”
Great. A silent assassin. I suppose it’s better than being yelled at.
Danny moves onto other topics like our home lives, where we live, hobbies, all that kind of getting to know you mundane stuff, but it helps pass the hours by, because honestly this job would kill my brain if I had to do it in silence.
We finish the morning sort faster than I expected.
“Come on,” Danny says. “I’ll show you the rest of the place before lunch, so you know where you’re going.”
We take the service elevator, and stand in silence as it hums softly while it climbs. Each floor reveals more offices, more quiet urgency. People moving with purpose and dressed better the higher we go. Employees who look like they belong and could rule the world.
Then the doors open on the top floor. As we step out the air changes. It’s quieter. Cleaner. It feels oppressive, like sound itself knows better than to linger.
“That’s his floor,” Danny murmurs, nodding toward the long glass corridor ahead. Wow. I have only ever seenoffices like this in those magazines you get at the doctor’s office.
“Try not to be up here much. Especially not alone,” Danny says, and I can’t help but fidget, wanting to leave this floor as soon as possible. I just don’t belong here.
“Why?” I ask.
“He doesn’t like traffic of the human kind. Or strangers. Basically people in general.”
Danny isn’t painting the best image of this guy. I’m shocked he leaves the house if he hates interaction with humans that much.
We’re about to turn back when movement catches my eye.
A man steps out of one of the offices.
“That’s him,” Danny whispers.
Tall. Dark suit. No tie. His black hair is perfectly styled, with the crispest close-shaved beard I have ever seen. I just know those clothes feel soft and he smells of a thousand dollar aftershave.
I remain studying him, fascinated that he’s so much younger than I imagined — early thirties, maybe less. Controlled in every movement, like the building itself learned how to walk and decided to wear a human shape.
He speaks to someone and I can’t hear. He lifts one hand in an authoritative way, sending a slight chill down my spine. The whole office area feels like we are under his control with one flick of his hand. I’ve never seen such a commanding presence. I’m a little jealous. Ethan is the epitome of alpha male. I continue to watch as he talks tothis guy who looks like he wants to leave as soon as he can. But I watch Ethan.
No raised voice.
No wasted motion.
Authority, distilled.
I hold my breath, anticipating some kind of argument is about to ensue between them.
