Hidden Diamonds

Chapter 1.3 - Wednesday Submission - Chapter 9

Lau1738

Wednesday Submission

Chapter 9

"I'll learn to touch you, I wanna breath in your well,

I gotta hunt you, I gotta bring you to my hell" - Meg Myers, Desire

It was easy to convince Gregory to approach Goodwin & Goodchild. After following up about the Harvey and Melanie situation, I casually dropped in that the background check on Wednesday had come back clean. She appeared to be a respectable young woman, with as much, if not more, to lose than our 'prospective client'. Oh, how I'd internally grinned at the term respectable. I knew better.

"Coincidentally, she's a partner in an all female law firm that specialises in sexual abuse and the like". I paused, letting the silence spin out until I fancied I could hear the cogs in Gregory's poor, abused brain turning. "Say Gregory, wouldn't that be an interesting slant on the PR for this thing? Feed into the whole me too movement?"

"Yes Jay, I was just about to say the same thing. Interesting, very interesting". His laboured breathing cut a shiver of disgust down my spine. "Mind checking it out? Laying down the groundwork?"

Although this was exactly what I had been hoping for, the request sent a shining sliver of anger straight through my temples, causing my hands and jaw to clench in tandem.

"Of course. Would you mind sending the initial email? Seeing as you're heading the PR?" I pushed out through gritted teeth. "I'll do the interview". Pandering to the sluggish oafs ego was a bitter medicine. Bile inducing but necessary. A medicine I swallowed with a savage glee. If Gregory wasn't so easily manipulated, I wouldn't have gotten away with half the things I had done in my time at the company. I didn't even have to worry about Gregory naming me. If he did, he'd abbreviate the first, and probably murder the spelling of the last. More than likely, he wouldn't name me at all.

A short time later, Katy's finished background check before me, I received a confirmation email from Gregory. Flipping through the crisp, freshly printed papers outlining Wednesday's rise to mere mediocrity, a slow and sinister smile crept onto my face. This was going to be fun, so much fun.

Standing across the street from the building, I checked my watch. 3.28pm. Wouldn't do to be on time. The sounds and smells of the teeming, city streets zinged through my senses. Each energised shout and burly backfire a crackling symphony to my eardrums. The scent of rancid rubbish and oily exhaust fumes assaulted me. Though most people thought the city stank, I loved the smell. Disgusting but vitalising, imperative. Akin to the smell of sex. A redolent reek of raw sweat and spent bodies.

I checked the time again. 3.35pm. A familiar face caught my eye, striding through the strangled streets. Arms laden with bags, red hair twisting complicated patterns across her face as she tried vainly to blow it back, mouth pushing out in an exaggerated raspberry. Time to make my play. Running across the street, swiping a hand through my hair to imitate stress and effort, I tapped her lightly on the shoulder.

"Amy?" A winning smile situated on my face.

She turned, peering at me with discernment. "Sorry, do I know you?"

I let out a laugh, the confusion on her face becoming lighter as she helplessly drew from my cheerful disposition. Christ, women were so fucking easy.

"I'm afraid not. I recognised you from the website. I'm here to interview Wednesday? Sorry I'm late". Letting out a completely manufactured bashful grin, which she instinctively returned.

"Ah, yes!" The instinctive grin becoming genuine. "Your colleague didn't actually give us your name". Her own grin turning bashful.

"Jacob". I supplied, looking her up and down. "I would shake your hand but it seems they're full".

She laughed. "Actually, on that note, would you mind holding a thing or two while I put the code in?"

I grabbed a couple of the bags, pantomiming looking away while surreptitiously noting the key code, sure it would come in useful.

"Come in. Wednesday is probably in her office going through things".

I followed her up the stairs. Ah yes, forever the grafter. How well will you work with me on your mind, I wonder? A stealthy grin surfacing.

We arrived at the main reception. Looking through the statement glass wall, I could see a small, dark head in one of the office rooms, strained forward, looking intensely at a computer.

"Go through, she's expecting you". Oh, she's expecting someone, but not me, I thought but didn't say.

Striding through the office, I stopped at the door to Wednesday's office, rapping lightly with my knuckles. A feeling of near religious predestination filled me. Clear and clean cut clarity. The wooden door stood in harsh relief. The tough, fleshy sound of knuckles on the hard surface vibrated like a gong. She didn't look up. Instead, glancing at the time and then back to the computer, she granted me blind access to her inner sanctum. No doubt wishing to convey her annoyance at my tardiness.

"Come in". The tone of her voice imparted irritation.

I entered. Examining her at this close distance was exhilarating. A preemptive feeling of schadenfreude engulfed me. I let the door close with a small, dull click.

"Hello Wednesday. Long time no see".