Venom

002

The Sundial was surprisingly empty that morning.

Helen hadn't known what Dean Warren's secretary looked like until last night at four in the morning when she finally found a picture of the blonde woman on the Warren's Bank website.

At seven-thirty, there were less than ten people inside the lovely cafe. One of which was a tall, blonde young lady wearing a black pantsuit. Standing outside, Helen couldn't see much of her face due to the shadows cast by the shining December sun, but the woman was most likely beautiful.

It was time. Helen stepped inside the cafe and stood next to the secretary, not too close to seeming to be there for her, but close enough for the woman to hear the phone call.

The secretary was waiting for her two coffees - a takeaway Americano and a ristretto to drink there at the moment. The bartender - a brown-haired guy with a dimple on his left cheek - definitely knew the woman, as he kept smiling and doing small talk. And she seemed pleased too.

"One cappuccino, please," Helen asked another bartender, picking out the phone from the pocket of her heavy coat. The phone rang twice, then the voice of an old woman answered. "Hello?"

"Hello, this is the office of the European School of Economics in New York City, how can I help you?" the metallic voice kindly answered.

Helen put on her best act. "Hi! I'm calling for the job as your new interpreter. I saw the ad on the internet." Her voice was warm and sweet. Definitely not the Viper's voice.

The old woman, though, seemed to appreciate the kindness. "Of course, dearest! How lovely! We are in fact looking for someone who knows a bit about languages," the woman joked, and Helen forced out a laugh. Finally, the blonde secretary to her right glanced at her. She was listening. Perfect.

"Awesome. So, I can speak four languages, mostly Italian and English, but I have a major degree in Spanish and French literature and grammar." Bomb dropped. Now the blondie was carefully listening.

The old woman wasn't as pleased. "Oh, dang it!" she exclaimed. "I'm afraid we're looking for someone who speaks German, Portuguese, and Danish!"

Helen knit her brows and dropped her face in a sad scowl. "Oh, I see," she said. "So...I suppose I don't fit the description," she laughed it off. The woman gave her a sad chuckle. "Well, thank you anyway, I'll keep looking. Have a nice day."

"You too, dearest. Thanks for calling."

The call ended and the cappuccino arrived. Finally something warm, she thought while sipping the hot drink.
Any minute now, blondie.

"Excuse me?" a high-pitched voice, although pleasant to hear, reached Helen's ears. There we go.

Helen turned her head to the woman and, as she thought, she was stunning. Eyes like pools of ember and a tiny nose above full lips. A beautiful woman indeed. If Helen had a moment off, she would try to get her out for a drink.  As for right now, though, she had work to do.

"Yes?" she asked, her voice still disappointed by the unfortunately unsuccessful call, which had been part of the plan. She knew exactly what the school was looking for, she'd just needed an excuse to let the secretary know that she had that knowledge. And as always, her plan had worked.

The secretary smiled and stretched out a hand. "Savannah McAdams," she introduced herself, shaking Helen's calloused hand against her soft palm. Savannah McAdams seemed to notice the roughness of Helen's skin but said nothing. "I'm sorry if this comes out as rude, but you were standing right here and I couldn't help but overhear the call."