The morning went rather normally, at least in the beginning, with him demanding file after blasted file. Sometimes she thought he did it on purpose just to drive her mad. like he was actually using every single one of the files she brought! And worst of all the night she had spent in the dumpster was finally taking its toll on her. Lilly was finding it harder and harder to function at a normal pace, her head felt strange like someone had opened it up and stuffed a bunch of clouds in it and her eyes were starting to shut of their own accord. It took all her effort and willpower just to keep them open. As she attempted to brace her head from drooping onto the desk with her arms, she felt something sharp brush her elbows. Brows furrowing, she looked down at her elbow and found the culprit. On the desk lay a familiar little slip of paper with annoyingly precise handwriting. Hmmm...
She peered at the note for the longest time staring at the words. Bring me bile, flipper no file followed by a string of letters and numbers her brain was unwilling to decipher... hmm, a string...she wondered what he could possibly want with strings...an image of Mr. Ambrose secretly sewing in his office came into her mind prompting her to giggle sleepily, maybe he did have a secret passion for string knitting! who knew? She wondered how she could have possibly missed this vital piece of information. Seemed obvious now that she thought of it! thought of...what was she thinking again? Another wave of sleepiness pulled her eyelids down and made it harder for her to prop her head up...Somewhere in the back of her head, the importance of the file gnawed at her but she shoved it away, it couldn't be that important could it?
zzz zzz
Plink!
zzz zzz
Plink!
zzz zzz
Plink!
Plink!
Blast! Lilly stirred sleepily, eyes still firmly shut as another annoying Plink! sounded. Couldn't she sleep in peace? What was that sound anyway? Ella was usually up earlier, but she was never this noisy... lazily she opened one eye and became the prime target of a cylinder tube as it shot out of the wall with a 'plink!' Lilly's surroundings came rushing back to her like a hurricane, blast! She was at work! Mr. Ambrose! He was going to kill her!
Hurriedly she opened up the latest note and winced.
Mr Linton
report to my office now!
He was definitely not happy.
Sighing she tried to clear her sleep riddled mind and pushed open the connecting door to his office, not bothering to knock.
He was seated at his desk as usual but rather than focused on a piece of paper or file as was normal, his gaze was already fixed on her, watching.
"Mr. Ambrose, you asked for me?" she attempted, trying to feign ignorance to the fact that she had just fallen asleep at her desk.
Mr. Ambrose stared at her as if she had just grown two extra heads. Then he shook his head as if trying to clear his thoughts and motioned for her to sit down in front of his desk.
That was strange...why was he being so unusually quiet? Not even a harsh remark about her lateness! Not that he was usually a very chatty person but this was different from the usual commanding silence that he normally exuded. This silence seemed more cautious, more quiet, almost as if Mr. Ambrose couldn't decide what to say. She snuck another glance at him- sure enough, his stony face was as non-emotive as always, but his eyes...she might just have imagined it, but those stormy dark eyes seemed more hesitant in their fierceness almost distracted as he looked at her. What was going on in that head of his?
She'd been so engrossed in her thoughts that she hadn't noticed that there were no files to sort out on his desk.
Her suspicions were confirmed when he spoke, "Mr. Linton, it has come to my attention that your work performance this morning has been rather underwhelming."
"Taking into account previous cases of underperformance, I must conclude that something is the matter with you. Perhaps to do with your little escapade this morning."
He paused looking at her intently as if waiting for a confession. When she remained silent he continued,
"Mr. Linton, I..." He broke off abruptly as if reconsidering, then quickly in a rush-
"Are you alright?"
She blinked. Had she heard correctly?
As if sensing her hesitation he repeated again, this time with more conviction,
"Ms-Mr Linton, is everything well?"
The question was posed as a formality but there was no mistaking the keen almost lethal interest that simmered under it as he pinned her with those dark eyes.
She gaped at him and finally found her words,
"Of course I am sir, I'm perfectly alright, there's nothing..."
But even as she was rambling, her hand subconsciously moved to the spot below her neck where she knew the purple bruise lay, gifted to her by that fellow that had thrown her out from the deceptive hotel.
She moved to tug her collar higher over her neck to keep the bruise she knew lay under hidden, but then stopped as she noticed his keen eyes track the movement. His eyes zeroed in on her neck. Oh no.
"You're hurt." The words resounded through the office with a rage she hadn't thought him capable of. His face was a mask of lethal calm as his dark eyes took in her bruised neck- yet she knew better; his left little finger twitched twice.
She fumbled with her fingers not knowing what to say. Suddenly she found it harder to meet his eyes. How was she going to explain this?
Finally, she managed "it's just a little-" her voice involuntarily stopped as she felt hands push aside her collar. His hands. She blinked. She'd barely remembered seeing him move, but somehow he had crossed round the table and was now at her side. Very closely at her side.
She turned. He was stood towering over her, one hand retracted the other still awkwardly brushing aside her collar. His eyes, however, were focused intently on her neck. His thumb moved almost subconsciously over the bruise, gently caressing her neck. Surprised at the sudden skin-to-skin contact and proximity she squirmed, her face colouring slightly.
His eyes snapped back to her and then widened slightly as he registered his actions. He retracted his hands completely and took a step back, his expression still slightly dazed as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have.
However, he quickly regained his composure.
"Who?"
Not what. Who. She gulped.
"I may have lied about some details about my time in the East End earlier, like the fact that I was staying there with my relatives-"
"I know Mr. Linton."
"-when actually I went to find a cheap place to stay at temporarily or just until my aunt becomes less crazy, although admittedly the chances of that happening are quite unlikely, so I went-"
"to stay at an extremely untrustworthy, filthy, unreputable home for so-called troubled children in the East End, specifically the one at Beadnell street run by a pompous, deranged woman and her equally brainless henchmen. Do you know Mr. Linton that that woman is notorious for scamming lost young woman and sometimes even grown men into entering her shoddy and miserable deals?"
Her mind was still reeling at all that he had said so all she could manage was a weak "no?"
Get a grip on yourself, Lilly! She spoke again, "how do you know, sir?"
Mr. Ambrose stopped from where he had been pacing and almost snorted. Almost "I'm well acquainted with the nefarious business practices that go on in the East End Mr. Linton, in fact, I have had personal experience with the deranged hostess of the troubled home, you see she once made the mistake of trying to cross me. Suffice to say after I made sure she had a clear idea of her extreme blunder, I believed she wouldn't make the same mistake of crossing me ever again, although-"
his eyes drifted back towards her
"-I think she just did."
She tried not to think too much about the implications of that.
But he still hadn't really answered her question. "How do you know that was where I tried to stay and not with my relatives, sir?"
"Mr. Linton, you are not a very convincing liar-"
Heat rose to her cheeks. Admittedly she knew that her lying skills weren't top notch but she had always prided herself in her ability to fabricate tales. After all, it had gotten her out of a fair share of troubles in the past.
"-and there are no homes, even by the East End's standards on that street. It is purely a place for nefarious, low-life crime and petty business."
Aha. That made more sense. She bet he would have believed her had it not been for that little unfortunate piece of knowledge.
Her thoughts froze as Mr. Ambrose moved closer to her, tilting his head so that his dark eyes were staring directly into her brown ones, "Mr. Linton, who hurt you?"
She would have hesitated, but the sheer sincerity of his tone and the intensity of his gaze made her fumble,
"It was at the home for troubled children...I may have been thrown out by one of her henchmen when I refused to agree with her deal... I think he was called Mutt"
He gave a satisfied nod with a cold gleam in his eyes.
Sensing that the conversation was over, she thought of leaving, then realised blast that she still didn't really have a place to stay in! She needed to figure out a plan-
"One more thing Mr. Linton," Mr. Ambrose's deep voice cut into her thoughts "the office is always open to stay in...should accommodation prove difficult."
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Apologies for the extremely late updates! I've been busy and haven't really been that inspired to write...