United Assassins

c h a p t e r / t h r e e

^^^  =  Arlin Fairburn

Hot daaang.

(You guys should watch The Vampire Diaries because you'll get to see both ^ and Damon's beautiful faces)

Okay on with the story.

|/|/\|\|

"Arlin Fairburn, 24. He's tall with dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, and facial hair. Here's a picture of him." She pulls up a picture of him on her computer, and sure enough, he fits her description perfectly.

Except she forgot to mention how good looking he was.

Why do all the good looking guys have to be involved in this type of shit?

"I can see you drooling from here."

My gaze snaps up to the glass door of Hermione's office, and sure enough, Drayden is staring right at me with a smirk on his face.

I not-so-subtly roll my eyes at him, putting a hand on my hip, a smirk playing on my face. "I wasn't drooling."

"Oh, puh-lease. You so were," he says, walking further into the office.

"This is confidential information, Drayden," I look down to Hermione and she has a hand up with a stern look on her face. "You can't be here."

He rolls his eyes and continues into the room, despite Hermione's warnings. "Babydoll, my father is head president of this facility," he responds, hands gesturing around us. "I'll do what I want." He leans in close to her and twirls her curly light brown hair in his fingers.

"Stop being such a flirt, we're actually trying to work here."

Drayden stops what he's doing and looks up at me. "Is someone jealous?"

I shift my weight from one foot to the other and look directly into his eyes, challenging him. He walks over towards me and smirks, reaching up for my hair as well, but I smack his hand down. "Do you have a hair fetish or something? And no, I'm not jealous. We have work to do, so if you don't mind..." I twist out of his grasp and lean back down to the computer Hermione is currently typing in.

"You know you love me, Adelaide."

I turn to look back up at him, taking notice his hazel eyes. He has a smile on his face instead of a smirk, and I raise my eyebrows in question, but then shake my head. "It's hard not to," I say jokingly, but I know he can tell there was some truth behind my words.

Leaning down to my ear, he whispers, "You just love playing hard to get." He pulls back to a standing position and goes back to his old self, smirking and all.

"Oh, and by the way," he yells on his way out of the door. "I've seen him at Hallers before. Good luck, he's a catch." He winks at me, then closes the door behind him, while I look down at Hermione with raised brows.

|/|/\|\|

"Move," I mutter under my breath at an older man with a messy grey balding head. He turns to look up at me with furrowed brows.

"Hey." He points a shaky finger at me, and his nasty breath hits my neck. "Aren't you that girl from the oatmeal commercial?"

"No, I'm afraid you're mistaken. Excuse me," I respond, quickly shuffling out of his way.

I continue walking through the massive crowd of people, finally arriving at the bar. Sitting down on one of the worn-out black stools, I wave a bartender down.