In Bad Faith

Chapter 6

"He is available at..." I murmured as I briefly scanned Misha's online agenda. "...two-thirty," I told the man on the other end of the line. As I softly tapped my fingertips on the wooden desk I was sitting at, I heard some pensive sounds and finally got agreement. "Okay, you'll receive your appointment details in a few seconds," I then said, while entering the appointment into the system I shared with Misha Zaveri.

After I finished the short phone call, I saw Misha enter his office. He had been in meetings for the past two hours, and according to his schedule, he had taken the rest of the day off. I flashed him a small smile, which he never returned, and then brought my attention back to my work again. "I scheduled your appointment with Mr. Woods for next Tuesday," I told him, while I opened an email that just popped up in the corner of my screen. I was getting used to things around here. This job would never become something I'd want to do for longer than a few months, but it wasn't as bad as the first days anymore either.

Except for Misha. He was still the exact same. I had been here for two weeks now, and think I could count the words we've spoken to each other on two hands. And from those few words, a hundred percent had been work-related. He wasn't in his office much. Zaveri's agenda was almost full every single day for the past few weeks, which didn't give him much space to sit at his desk and do his work. I wasn't too mournful about that. This man annoyed me in a way no one has ever been able to annoy me. I tried my best, like, really tried, but this man just wouldn't budge. It even seemed difficult for him to just give me a simple smile whenever I did something for him.

But if he wasn't going to trust me, I would find other ways to gather the needed information, I wasn't too worried about that. I had always been able to find my way. I've always had to. Having lost my mom at such a young age had been nothing but very hard for a kid whose father was incapable of caring. Aleksander, my dad, was a good and hardworking man, but that was also the problem. He lived to work. He didn't even know how to cook a simple meal, or how to have a normal conversation about how his daughter's school day was. But I never held him accountable for it, as it was just the way he was.

"Why are you not on social media?" I suddenly heard Misha ask me. At least, I was the only person he could possibly be asking this right now, since there was no one else in this office. I looked up at him and saw him looking directly at me, still standing beside his desk. I hated how I seemed to be attracted to unavailable, toxic men who looked way too good in suits.

Wait.. what did he ask me again? "Mr. Zaveri, are you stalking me?" I blurted out before I could even stop myself. Stupid Nadezeya, get your act together. I saw him eyeing me, looking both slightly amused and slightly uncomfortable at the same time. And this might have been the first time in the past week that he had his full attention directed at me. And it made me feel very uneasy.

"I am not." he simply told me, averting his gaze to his laptop, which he closed before putting it in his bag. "I was just curious," he added, words that really didn't say anything. And now it was my turn to get amused. So, Misha cared more about his new assistant than he wanted to admit. That was both amusing and useful. I would have to start engaging in conversations with this man some day. They've got a long period planned out for me to stay on this mission, but in this tempo, it was going to take decades to even get to know something about Misha Zaveri.

"You could just ask me questions, if you're curious about me," I said to him, which was once again not a very Nadya Fisher thing to say. Why was staying in my role so damn hard for me this time? I usually went through these things without hesitation and without it being even slightly difficult.

He only gave me a look without showing much emotion, after which he continued packing his bag, and putting on his coat. "You're avoiding my question," he said to me as he slid on the beige coat that was hanging on the wall rack. I couldn't keep my eyes off of him during every move he made, which made me lose concentration. Not very smart, because Misha was asking very important questions. If I answered these questions in a bad way, he could immediately fire me, right here and right now. So I fixed my gaze on his, and shrugged lightly. "I used to have Instagram, but it's way too addictive. I found myself scrolling through my feed endlessly," I told him, an excuse that I already had thought out. The truth was that it was almost impossible to build up a fake Instagram account that was credible within only a few months. But either way, I was barely active on social media. I have been taught the dangers of it from a young age. My dad always hated me being present online, because he knew too well what it could be used for by others. My private account, therefore, wasn't too special or elaborate.

Misha seemed to study my face the moment I answered his question, checking if I was speaking the truth. Little did he know that lying was my second nature. No hint of doubt could be heard in my voice, and my face showed no hesitation. "Hm," was his answer, to which I replied with a small smile. I brought my gaze back to my email, but couldn't quite help myself to stir things up, just a little. "So, you have been stalking me..," I asked calmly, without looking up at him. I heard him shuffle around, preparing to leave any minute. For a moment he didn't bother answering, and just the second I thought he wasn't going to anymore, he sighed softly. "I have. I like to know who I have working in my office," he told me. It made me grin a little, and I looked at him while he made his way to the door. I wasn't going to answer anymore. It was already clear to me that Misha was very careful with who he could trust, and who he couldn't. Of course he was going to do checks on his personal assistant, the one who would literally go through all his appointments, emails, and papers. I would do the same if I were in his shoes.

"Are you going to the staff party?" Misha interrupted my stream of thoughts with his words. I kind of expected him to just leave without saying anything else, since he was already on his way to the door. I looked up at him once again, and nodded, smiling. "Yeah, I am," I told him. I wasn't going to miss an opportunity to learn more about either Misha or his company. At parties, people tended to be more indiscreet with alcohol in their systems. This could give me the chance to find out more about MZ Global.

Misha nodded while closing the buttons of his coat. "Good. I will be out of the office for the rest of this afternoon to prepare some last things," he told me, as if he didn't leave me alone in this place almost every minute of every day. Why did he care to explain where he was going this time? "Sure, good luck. See you tonight," I smiled at him, as he opened the door. He mumbled a 'see you' before he left the office and walked away towards the elevator.

I might have spoken more words with Misha Zaveri over the past ten minutes than I had ever before. And even though this conversation wasn't too useful, it was a sign that things were going in the right direction.