Authors: Scarlet Risqué
Conan W. Casey, chief security officer at Wilmar said,
“We’re currently engaged in a hiring drive across the organization. As CSO, my focus is on hiring more security guards to watch over our newly acquired properties.
”
I was suddenly much more interested in starting this new job.
Working for a suave, sexy, powerful boss might not be so bad after all
. The White Queen hadn’t mentioned anything about killing on this mission, so as long as Mr. Casey’s security guards didn’t turn on me, I figured it would be a piece of cake. I just had to get into the company, get the information the White Queen wanted, and then return home.
Easy
.
The spies should have more information about Matilda Ann Summers by then
.
* * *
The next morning, I wrote my cover letter to apply for the position. Once I was satisfied, I emailed the letter and résumé to Wilmar. One of my sisters was posted in HR and I knew I’d at least get an interview, but the wait was still torturous.
The White Queen sent over some furniture and a bunch of boxes with stuff for the apartment. I spent the next few days organizing the place, shopping for my new work wardrobe, and preparing myself to go undercover as Scarlet Walters. The black and white cat came to the kitchen window most nights. I started feeding it regular cat food and calling it Milky, but it never stuck around for too long. All in all, I was kept busy enough, but I still checked my phone for missed calls every half hour.
The call from Wilmar finally came. I was to go in for my interview in two days. I reviewed my books and practiced answering potential interview questions in the mirror. I was as ready as I could be for Mr. Conan W. Casey.
Interview
I wore a knee-length skirt, a white blouse, and blazer for my interview. To complete the new look, I put on a pair of brown, square-rimmed glasses.
I took the subway to the Upper West Side and exited at Eighty-sixth Street and Broadway just after eight. The Wilmar complex was two blocks away, on Seafront Boulevard. It consisted of six futuristic glass towers connected by skyways.
I stood at the main entrance and looked up. The flowing water of the Hudson River was reflecting off the giant bluish tower.
I’m here to get the job. That’s what I’m here for
. I took a deep breath and clenched my fists as I walked through the glass doors.
There were armed security guards dotted around the large lobby. It smelled like air freshener, and three cleaners were pushing around their carts. The worker rats filed past me, tapping little white cards on turnstiles as they rushed to the elevators.
I went over to the reception desk.
“First time in Wilmar?” the security guard asked, looking down at a list.
“Yes. I’m interviewing for the position of Mr. Casey’s secretary. I was told to see the human resources manager, Mrs. Little.”
“Are you Scarlet Walters?”
I hesitated for a second. I wasn’t used to answering to my new name. Scarlet Walters sounded so … professional. But this was my new identity, and if I didn’t believe it no one else would.
“Yes.” I smiled.
“Fill in the information and sign here,” he said, shoving a guest book toward me.
“Thanks.” I picked up the pen. “What’s your name?” As an agent, getting to know security guards was a rule of thumb.
“Peter,” he said with a snort. He was burly and had a gigantic nose.
“If you don’t mind me asking Peter,” I lowered my voice, “why did the last secretary leave?”
“Nice try lady. Loose lips sink ships and all that,” he said, getting up from his seat rather quickly given his size. “I’ll take you over to the elevator.”
“You can’t blame a girl for trying to get an advantage over her competition,” I smiled.
“No, I guess you can’t,” he said with a wink as he touched his security pass to the turnstile to let me through. “Take elevator three up to the fifth floor. You’ll see Mrs. Little’s office as soon as you get off the elevator. Good luck.”
“Thanks Peter,” I said as I got in the elevator.
The interview with Mrs. Little went well. She didn’t even ask about my education.
“You’ve made it to the next stage,” said Mrs. Little. “Take elevator three up to the sixtieth floor and follow the numbers to suite sixty-fifty. It’s a corner office. I’ll let Mr. Casey know you’re on your way.”
“Thank you.” I smiled as I left her office.
It was a slow ride up to my next interview. The elevator stopped on every other floor as workers rushed in and out, scurrying like rats around a large glass tank.
I got off on the sixtieth floor, turned left, and went through the door marked “6000-6050.” There were offices around the perimeter, but the regular workers only had semi-enclosed little workspaces. I walked along the edges of the white cubicle farm to the far corner of the enormous room.
There was a small seating area with a desk outside the corner suite. The letters carved into the wood sign on the door read: “Conan W. Casey, Chief Security Officer.”
This was it. I’d done all I could to prepare, but I still felt uneasy. My feet were stuck to the ground, rooting me to the spot. I pinched my left palm with my right thumb and index finger and thought calming thoughts. It was one of the Neuro-lingistic Programming, or NLP, techniques they taught us at the Academy to anchor ourselves, overcome negative thoughts, and control our emotions.
I knocked lightly on the door. No response. I raised my hand to knock again.
“Come in,” a deep, authoritative voice called out before my knuckles touched the door.
I stepped into the office and was greeted by a one hundred eighty degree view of New York City. The black leather and chrome furniture was sleek and shiny. All the files were neatly arranged on shelves by color and size. It appeared that the CSO was an orderly man who liked to know exactly where everything was.
Conan Casey was sitting behind a large glass and chrome desk in front of floor-to-ceiling windows. He was wearing a sharp black suit with a navy-blue tie. Judging by the cut of his suit, he looked like the kind of man who checked himself in the mirror and liked what he saw. With his well-defined features, narrow eyes, and neatly groomed dark-brown hair, he was even more appealing in person that he was in his pictures.
He glanced up from his computer and looked at me from head to toe. “Sit.” He pointed to a chair in front of his desk. “Name?”
“Scarlet Walters.” I sat down and crossed my legs. There was something unsettling about him. I discreetly tugged the hem of my skirt over my knees.
“I need to pull up your résumé.” He looked like a wolf gazing at a dangling bone as he read my fake qualifications and work history. “You’re twenty-four and a fresh grad. Well, on paper, I suppose you meet my basic requirements. Tell me why you want to work for Wilmar.”
“Wilmar’s an impressive organization, a forerunner in its many fields.” I clasped my hands over my knee and felt the cold sweat on my palms. “You’re expanding rapidly, and I’d like to be part of that growth. I believe I’d be an asset to the company, I …”
“Enough.” He sounded like he was growling and he waved his hand.
I jerked back in my seat, surprised by his tone.
“Why do you want to work for me? What has Conan Casey done to catch your attention?”
I took a breath and sat forward. I was determined to get the job, and I wasn’t going to let him intimidate me.
“I want to work in security because I’m a keen observer of people … and I want to work for you because you’re clearly a man of taste. For instance, take your Jaeger-LeCoultre Reverso watch.” I nodded my head at his left wrist. “It’s an elegant yet understated piece that can be worn in the boardroom or at the gym. The reversible case can be turned around to protect the face should the situation call for it. It suits your position and your personality. I commend your choice.”
“Go on.” Mr. Casey smiled and joined the tips of his fingers in an arch. He leaned forward and put his elbows on the desk.
“I realize this is an office position, but I like intense situations.” I caught a whiff of his fresh cologne as I tucked my hair behind my ear.
“Intense situations?” he said suggestively as he scrutinized me. “You have quite a figure. I’d say you’re five foot six and weigh one hundred eight pounds.”
“That’s inappropriate,” I instinctively blurted out.
Damn, why did I say that
? I felt like he was weighing me up as a potential meal, but I had to recover somehow. “However, you are correct. You must have a scale in your head.”
He chuckled.
I can make him laugh. This is a good sign
.
“Sizing people up is part of my job,” he said, looking me straight in the eye. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“It’s quite all right.” I gave him a tight smile but I didn’t believe him. I knew it was bullshit.
“The bad news,” he said, looking at his computer, “is that you have no real experience to speak of.” His eyes darted back and forth between me and the computer. “I need a secretary who can do this job with her eyes
closed.”
“I interned as a secretary for six months, and I’m a fast learner. If you just give me a chance, I’ll prove that I’m up to it.”
“Anyone can be a secretary, but
my
secretary,” he said, jabbing his finger on the desk, “can’t be just anyone. She needs to know how to keep her mouth shut for starters.” He leaned back in his chair and stared at me. “I demand
complete
confidentiality.”
“Mr. Casey, I assure you that you can count on my discretion. I know how to keep secrets.” His intense stare was making me nervous. I was beginning to wonder if his last secretary quit because of him.
“Well, Ms. Walters, as you know, Wilmar is expanding. The sitting tenants in our new properties could become hostile after we evict them. The last thing I need is a jumpy little girl who can’t field calls from irate ex-tenants. I need to know my secretary won’t call me crying if she gets yelled at.”
“I understand.” I looked down to hide my smirk.
I’d like to show you what I can do with a knife
. “I can handle it. I’ll support you in whatever ways you need.”
“I need someone I can
trust
.“
“Then you’ve found your woman, sir.”
“Mrs. Little will notify you of the outcome,” he said. He held my gaze for a moment before standing up.
“Thank you Mr. Casey.” He was much taller than I realized. I felt his eyes on me as I walked across the room to the door.
“I’ll see you out,” he said, stepping around his desk.
He shook my hand with an iron grip and opened the door.
A tall, skinny girl was waiting outside. She greeted Mr. Casey and her shrill voice made my skin crawl.
How many people will he be interviewing
?
Do I even have a chance
?
If I don’t get this job, the last six months will have been all for nothing
.
Waiting
I began monitoring the career page on Wilmar’s website. I refreshed the page every hour and saw that more job vacancies were constantly being posted.
I didn’t know if I should be disappointed or relieved that the secretarial position in the Security Department was still listed. They couldn’t remove the listing until someone accepted the job, and I hadn’t been called yet, so I decided it was a good sign. I shuddered to think what the White Queen would say if I wasn’t hired.
I wanted to be up to date with the latest Wilmar information. I bought online subscriptions to newspapers, magazines, and any trade publications I could find. Wilmar was all over the national and international business news. The media was buzzing about Wilmar’s strong quarterly earnings and positive growth forecasts, and their property portfolio seemed to be expanding by the day.
As I was reviewing my business administration textbook, my phone rang.
“Hi Janet,” a female voice said.
“Hey Vanus.” I sighed.
“How’d the interview go?” she asked.
“I think it went well, but I haven’t heard back. Do you have Mimi’s new number?”
“Don’t lose hope. The interview was only yesterday, and our people inside are there to help. I’ll give you Mimi’s number in agent code …”
“Got it, thanks,” I said.
“Call me when you hear from them.”
“I will.”
Vanus hung up and I dialed Mimi’s number.
“Hey Mimi,” I said. “Wanna meet up?”
“Janet! You’re finally here! Why don’t we meet at the park and go for a jog?”
“Sounds good. I’ll see you in an hour.”
I changed into exercise clothes and headed for the subway.
* * *
Mimi was waiting for me at the Bethesda Fountain in Central Park—she was always on time. She spotted me and waved with a childlike grin. Her shoulder-length hair was in adorable pigtails and she was wearing a matching pink top and shorts. She was as cute as an anime character. Seeing her made me happy.
“Hey Scar …
Scaaarlet Waaalters
. Your new name sounds sooo seeexy.” She gave me a hug and giggled.
“What’s your Wilmar name?” I asked.
“Mimi DuPree. The White Queen already had documents with that name, so I guess she thought it would just be easier to change the passport picture than to give me a whole new name.”
We walked to one of the paths and started jogging, so no one could eavesdrop.
“What’d you get?” Mimi asked.
“Nothing yet. I’ve applied to be Casey’s secretary. He’s the CSO. How about you?”
“I’m Miller’s personal assistant. He’s the Head of Operations. I start next week. And Liza’s in accounts.”
“I wonder why they haven’t called me yet.” I felt a twinge of jealousy and hoped it wasn’t obvious in my voice.
“You’ve never failed a mission,” said Mimi. “I’m sure you’ll get the job.”
“Yeah, but other girls have applied too. Who knows what Casey’s really looking for.”
We stopped at an empty bench and sat down.
“Janet, they’re just girls. They’re nothing like us. I know you’ll get it. You can be confident of that!” Mimi patted me on the shoulder.
“I hope so.”
“You’ll get it,” Mimi chirped. “I know you will.”