The Traitors Charm

Chapter 3

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed, embarrassed beyond belief. I need this job for god's sake! I quickly took out a tissue from my bag started wiping on the stain, not daring to meet the eyes of the guy. My cheeks flamed, and horror turned my blood into ice when I saw the stain printing into the material. A small gaze to the side and the texture of the material told me that it was expensive. Oh god. Curse you and your clumsy ass Ciphora.

"Get the hell off me." An eerily familiar voice resounded in my head. No no. My luck can't be that bad. My brows creased at the vehement hate pooling around those five words. My heart pounded in my ears, as I plucked up every module of courage in my body, to look up at the speaker. Yep, my luck is that bad.

Because, glaring blue daggers down at me, was none other than the traitor himself, Nathaniel Blackwell. My eyes never wandered far from his, as I searched them for any signs of the Nate I'd known and loved. I was in for an elephant big disappointment. His eyes were just pools of blue cold steel, and his jaw was set with barely restrained anger.

The years had changed him. How could it not? He seemed taller and his shoulders were much broader than when I last saw him, and his face had a cold merciless tone to it. His hair was still the brown of aged mahogany, rich and deep, yet with the subtle hues only time brings.

It was only after a few moments of wordless staring that I came face to face with reality. This is Nathan the CEO. And I'd spilled coffee on him. I murmured a weak apology as I stood, staring at the floor. My stomach was doing flip-flops as a small peak told me that he too was staring at me. God, please don't let him recognize me...

"Sir, are you ok?" The voice of the stick-up-her-ass woman sounded foreign now. It was so soft and feminine, so tinged with faux worry, that even a lesbian woman would gag if she heard it. I watched in barely concealed disgust as she attempted to remove his jacket. What was she, his nanny?

Nathan shook her off and never faltered in his glare. By now, the whole floor had surrounded us, and my head couldn't hang any lower. My heart was still pounded. He didn't recognize me, did he? I could get a little relief from that.

The murmurs and gasps that were rising around us, made my blood pressure rise. "I'm really sorry," I murmured, for his ears only. My hands were shaking, and my silver shoes were soaked in the coffee spill.

For just a fraction of a second, his gaze flashed with something. And then it was gone. He looked around for a bit, and took off his jacket, leaving me to ogle at his plain white shirt which he wore without a tie.

He slung it over his arm and made a gesture for me to follow him. My eyes widened in surprise. I wasted no time trotting after him, the clanking of the heels and the retreating whispers making a shiver run down my spine.

He walked right into the elevator, with me in tow. I wiped a tissue over my coffee smudged hands and feet, trying to be discreet. It didn't work because his gaze darted down to watch me. I sent a small sheepish smile his way before standing up straight and watching the floors go up. The elevator didn't stop, even once.

We didn't speak or even look at each other. I kept my eyes trained on the floor number, as it went up. 25...26...27...28... I looked at him from the corner of my eye, when he looked at his watch. 29...30.

The elevator gave out a ping on the 30th floor. He got out first, me struggling to meet his long strides.

This floor was different. It didn't have a flashy reception desk or anyone at all. Completely empty. Cold, white marble floors, chocolate brown sofas at the waiting area, which was devoid of anyone. He walked towards the large mahogany doors at the very end, pausing a bit before pushing it open. Oh. My. God.

I expected this, but my mouth apparently didn't because it was gaping like a goldfish at the designs and furniture. Various awards, mementos, and trophies adorned the glass box at the far corner of the very big room. A huge desk sat near the large glass window, through which one could see the whole of New York. Lucky bastard.

"Take a seat." His voice was remotely calm, though surges of anger still simmered underneath. He's already taken his seat, and I swallowed, before sitting on the edge of one of the comfy armchairs.

"Give me your file," he said, and I handed it over. His long fingers skimmed the edges as he turned the first page. I licked my dry lips.

"Ciphora Klein," he drawled, the two sapphire orbs finally showing signs of recognition. I cleared my throat before answering. "Y-yes that's me."

"You spilled that god-awful drink on me today Ms. Klein." It wasn't a question. A vein ticked in my forehead. "Yes, and I believe I apologized for that already." I gritted my teeth. Just get on with it, will you?

His eyes were cold, icy, as they stared me down. "An apology is not enough Ms. Klein." Then what the hell do you want? I bumped my knee on the edge of the desk, hissing in pain.

"Then what, sir?" I asked, fighting to keep my voice composed, despite the fact that a whirlpool was broiling inside me.

"Well, you could start by washing this," he stated, throwing his jacket over me. I glared at him, pulling the jacket down from my face. What the heck is his problem?

"And," he continued, "If I'm employing someone like you, I need to see the results." I scoffed.

"Someone like me?" I asked, my voice trembling with anger.

"Oh I'm sorry, I meant someone as dumb and irresponsible as you," he smiled, a cold ruthless one.

I bit back all the insults I wanted to throw at him. Job Ciph, you need the job. It wouldn't help if you throw that beautiful vase into his godlike face, however handsome it may be.

"You thought a coffee stain would vanish after you wipe it with a tissue?" He asked then. My cheeks flamed in embarrassment. Of course, I knew coffee stains don't go after one wipe of tissue but it was a knee-jerk reaction. What else was I supposed to do?

Seeing my complete lack of response, Nathan smiled. "Try to be more aware of your surroundings Ms. Klein. I want my employees to be smart and sharp." I nodded, biting my tongue. Not now Ciph.

"You will be working with the creative director. Make sure you won't spill coffee on his coat." He taunted, looking at the jacket on my hands. I briefly glanced at it before nodding.

"So does that mean I'm hired?" I asked, trying to keep my voice bland. He scrutinized my whole appearance before nodding curtly.

"And one more thing-" he began. Just then, his office doors flew open, and a bombshell walked in. Holy Peter, James, and John.

The girl who walked in looked to be in her twenties, with a model-worthy figure and reddish-brown hair. Her features were sharp and defined, and everything about her screamed power and wealth.

"Natty!" she squealed, running over to his side and hugging him. I watched, with eyes wide, as they kissed, feeling something tighten inside me. I couldn't understand what it was.

"Not now Avery," he smiled, watching her pout. I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling suffocated. He turned to me then, his eyes freezing back into ice.

"You can start tomorrow," he said, waving his hand in dismissal. I stood up, blinking sixty times a minute. I clutched the coat against me and nodded. "Thank you for your time Mr. Blackwell," I said, my voice stronger than what I was feeling. And then, without looking at either of them, I fast-walked out the door.

As I walked, I heard the girl ask, "Who's she?"

I perked my ears for his response.

"An old flame."