In His Sheet

Episode 011

I typed my number into Elsie’s pristine, sapphire-blue phone with fingers that were still slightly trembling. Mara Collins, my mind whispered. But on the screen, under the name slot, I typed: Liz Monroe.

I handed it back with a practiced, elegant smile that felt like it was held together by scotch tape. “There. Now you can stalk me properly.”

Elsie giggled, clutching the phone to her chest like a prized possession. “Perfect! I’ll text you tonight. We are going to have so much fun, Liz. Seriously, when Amber said you looked sketchy, I told her she was just being a total brat. You’re literally so sweet.”

My smile stiffened. Amber said I looked sketchy. "Oh, Amber," I forced a soft, airy laugh, swirling the foam in my latte. "Some people just aren't used to seeing new faces, I suppose."

"Exactly! Ignore her," Elsie said, taking a sip of her drink. "Anyway, I have to run to a fitting for yet another gala at the end of the month, but I am so glad I caught you. See you soon, Liz!"

She threw her arms around me for a quick, expensive-smelling hug, and then she was gone, her designer heels clicking cheerfully down the sidewalk.

I sank back into the plush leather chair of the café, the warmth of the coffee suddenly turning to ice in my stomach.

Liz. The word felt like a death sentence. Elsie was going to text me. She was going to talk about me. And worse, she was going to talk to Clara. If Elsie casually mentioned her "sweet niece Elizabeth" to Clara over a glass of champagne at some charity brunch, the whole facade would shatter in a single second. I’d be fired, blacklisted, and sent right back to the sticky floors of Victor’s club.

I couldn't let that happen. I had to stay three steps ahead. If the world needed me to be Clara’s niece, then I had to figure out a way to make it true, or at least, make it impossible for Clara to deny it.

But right now, I have a bigger problem.

Next Friday. Nine sharp. Adrian Holt.

The thought of him made my pulse do a dangerous, erratic dance. He was coming to the office. The man who looked at me like he could see through brick walls. If he looked at my corporate badge next week and remembered the clumsy waitress in the borrowed black dress from the VIP lounge...

I shuddered, pushing the thought away. I had one week to make myself indispensable to Clara. One week to learn how to blend into the background so perfectly that Adrian Holt wouldn't even glance in my direction.

I checked my cheap watch. 10:45 a.m. I’d been gone twenty minutes. Panic flared again. I grabbed my bag, stood up so fast I knocked my spoon to the floor, and rushed out of the café, sprinting back toward the towering glass structure of the Allegra Group.

When I stepped out of the elevator onto Clara’s floor, the atmosphere was already buzzing with high-voltage stress. Interns were carrying stacks of folders, Sarah was snapping into a desk phone, and the smell of anxiety was thick enough to taste.

"Hey, Sarah," I said, slipping past her desk a few minutes later. I tried to sound casual, like I hadn't just been sprinting down the sidewalk in cheap flats. "Sorry about that. Just had to step out for a quick second."

Sarah didn't even look up from her monitor, her fingers flying across the keyboard. "Clara’s looking for you. She had me leave a stack of files on your desk for the Holt review. You'd better get started. When he says he wants an overview, he means he wants to see every single cent we spent last quarter."

"On it," I said, walking quickly to the small cubicle that was now mine.

Sitting on the desk was a thick, black binder labeled Project Alpha: Holt Partnership Review.

I sat down, pulling the binder toward me. As I flipped open the first page, my eyes skimmed through the financial sheets, venue contracts, and private guest data. This was the inner workings of the fortress.

But as I turned to the back section, a specific document caught my eye. It was an internal profile sheet on Adrian Holt himself, compiled by Sarah for Clara’s personal use. It listed his preferences, his schedule, and his absolute deal-breakers.

My eyes locked onto a bolded line near the top:

Note on Security: Mr. Holt utilizes private background screening for all upper-level personnel and close-contact assistants prior to major reviews. Discretion and absolute verification of identity are non-negotiable.

The paper felt like ice in my hands.

Private background screening. I wasn't just balancing a stupid lie with Elsie anymore. In less than two weeks, Adrian Holt’s team was going to look at the roster of assistants. If they ran my name, they’d find Mara Collins, a girl with a mountain of debt, a sick mother, and a history of wiping down bar counters at a dingy club.

And if Elsie kept calling me "Elizabeth" around the office...

"Mara."

I jumped, nearly tearing the page as I looked up. Clara was standing at the entrance of my cubicle, her sharp eyes scanning my face.

"Ms. Monroe," I stammered, quickly closing the binder.

"Are you adjusting well?" she asked, her voice smooth but commanding.

"Yes, ma'am. Just going through the review files."

"Good," Clara said, leaning against the partition. "Mr Holt is a difficult man to please, but he is also the most powerful ally this company has. If we impress him next Friday, it means expansion. It means bonuses for everyone. Including you." She gave me a rare, approving nod. "Don't make me regret putting you on my direct team."

"I won't let you down," I promised, my voice steady even as my chest tightened.

"I know you won't," she said, turning on her heel and walking back toward her office.

I sank back into my chair, staring at the closed binder. The trap was setting itself around me, piece by piece. I had the job. I had a connection to Elsie. But the countdown to next Friday had officially begun, and I was running out of time to figure out how to survive it.

My phone buzzed on the desk. I picked it up slowly. It was an unknown number, but the text message made my stomach do a slow, violent flip.

Hey Liz! It's Elsie. Omgee, I just ran into your aunt Clara in the lobby while leaving! I didn't get to say hi properly because she was rushing into an elevator, but I'm totally going to text her later so the three of us can get lunch this week! xx

I stared at the screen, the breath completely leaving my lungs.