7 Kills + An Apple

Seven: Smart Boss

Brandon Prince

Glancing through the glass walls of her office, I can't help but marvel at her cold personality. I spend my lunch reading everything I can about her. Her mother—Peggy Queen, who is always on the news—has been taking a dip in the pool with all of her clothes on. She ruined her expensive sundress. In the same picture, Kalypso Queen is on the edge of the pool. The picture's byline—"Mother and daughter time?"—makes me wonder what they talked about.

I walk to Helen. I already know how to monitor the carbon dioxide levels along with the status of fermentation. However, Mekal Price has never met Tanya Johnson before.

"Should I write daily reports?" I ask.

Helen barely looks up from her computer monitor. "Daily reports are the best. Kalypso prefers to have the most updated version of any information. You also need the test the quality of each case. Wineries from all over the world will be delivering them here by the end of the day. Their very best one. Manuel keeps on forgetting about tasting them."

Over the comms, D'Arcy says, "Don't worry. We'll make you a real vintner by the end of the week. Then you won't need me."

"Sorry!" Tami, purposefully, slams into me. The books she was holding falls the ground. She takes a panicked look into Kalypso's office and quickly begins picking them up. I follow suit, making sure I make small talk with her.

"Hi." I smile warmly, happy to see a familiar face. "I'm Mekal Price. Who are you?"

"Tanya Johnson," she answers, somehow standing up in her high heels with ease. "You're the new vintner. I filed your contract to HR myself."

"And you are—"

"Working," finishes the devil herself. Kalypso Queen, whose gray pantsuit is definitely tailored for her, stands right behind me. Her cold dark eyes are staring at both of us; her hair is coiled into a perfect ponytail. "I doubt it is gossiping hour."

"Miss Queen," gasps Tami. She puts the stack of twelve thick books on her desk. "He was just helping me pick them up."

"I don't care," she says. She is already on the next thing—reading through the reports I have written on the most recent shipment of cases.

I hold my breath.

She scans, her eyes rushing through the words. "This is the report you wrote, Prescott?"

"It is Price," I correct. "But—"

"Yes or no." She drops it on Helen's desk.

"Yes."

She stares at me.

I can't help but feel I'm under some sort of interrogation. Even though this type of interrogation doesn't end with me dead, I feel uneasy at her sharp eyes and the cunning expression on her face. If I'm a cat, then she is a hawk. She would be eating me for a late lunch.

Then she only shrugs. "Helen, I'm going to take the new vintner and the new assistant to Sonoma's winery. Clear my schedule."

"Yes, Miss."

Then Kalypso walks to the elevator and disappears behind the silver doors.

"You better follow her," says Helen. "Both of you. She will be upset if she doesn't find you at Sonoma's winery when she's there. Take the stairs. You can make it to her car if you run."

Tami and I share a look. Then we rush to the stairwell and climb down four floors. I'm impressed by Tami's skill in those ridiculous pumps.

We make it to the front door. Security holds us up for a second, demanding we slide our IDs in their machine. But we run to the driver, just to see Kalypso entering her car. We join her. Tami is in the back; I'm in the front.