Strictly Business (editing)

6 : Conflict of Interest

6 : Conflict of Interest

I can feel the constriction of my throat, and the thin sheen of sweat that glazed the palm of my hands. I seemed verily edgy. Maybe it was the fact that I will have to spend an entire day in the presence of Mr. Kallas. Just being near him makes me uneasy. He's still untrustworthy until proven otherwise.

He hadn't even given me a reporting time. Therefore improvising was in my best interest. Sitting in the lobby, my fingers tapped rhythmically against my thigh, while I anxiously awaited his arrival. I glanced out the windows noticing the dynamics of the wind. It abruptly grew more violent, moving about the city like waves crashing down.

"He should be here soon." The receptionist spoke reassuringly. I turned to her and forced a factitious smile, wishing she would put a stop to her redundancy. I took my hands and ran them down my face, disregarding the sofa dipping beside me.

"This is ridiculous," I hissed to myself, disgruntled by his absence. I have been sitting here for at least an hour.

"You don't sound to happy," Adonis breathed, seemingly out of breath.

I stared at him disbelievingly, baffled by the sight of him. Where had he come from? Where has he been?

He sat to the left of me, lathered in sweat. His attire; an asymmetrical hoodie, shorts, and tights, made me reevaluate mine. His eyes fell over me critically.

"You look nice," he offered, his chest rising and falling hypnotically.

"Where have you been?" I demanded, shielding my nose from the awful stench that lingered in the air.

Neglecting my question, he unzipped his hoodie, bearing his sun kissed, toned abdomen. I reverted my eyes, as a knot formed in my stomach. I gritted my teeth, vexed.

"You smell horrible," I note absentmindedly.

"I went for a run," he informed softly. He turned his head, eyeing me strangely.

My eyes narrowed instinctively. He could be so unprofessional at times. If I'm going to take this seriously so should he.

"You couldn't have given me a call, telling me what time to be here?"

"I did. I told you to arrive here before me, and you did as I instructed. Which surprised me considering our last encounter here. Though, next time I'll try to be a bit more specific." The left side of his mouth tipped upward, forming a perceptive smirk.

"Don't even bring that up. You know as well as I that you were the very reason I was late to that interview," I enjoin, exasperated.

"Believe what you want. I'm leaving, I'll see you tomorrow," he informed with much nonchalance, redirecting his gaze opposite of me, as he stood up from the sofa.

"Wait, what about me?" I furrowed my eyebrows, bewildered by his abrupt decision to leave. I too shot up from my seat. "Aren't we supposed to be working, or is that just another misconception of mine?"

"Well considering the fact that I'm the person in charge here, I believe I say whose to work and who isn't," he retorted, his tone becoming more authoritative, and intense. It was easy to sense that his slightly pleasant mood has transformed into irritability.

"But Mr. Kallas," I start. "Being that you hired me as a paralegal, how exactly will I work without you?" I furrow my eyebrows slightly.

Once more he sighs heavily, running a hand through his dark unkempt hair. "I've told you, for now, don't worry about being a paralegal. I need a personal assistant and you can fill that role. You can't be both at once, trust me."