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Maybe both. Probably.
When he runs his tongue across the top of his teeth, my question is answered at once. It’s definitely both.
“Yes. Sit.” Under any other circumstance, I’d be telling Hayes to fuck off with his condescending, holier-than-thou attitude, but this is what I signed up for and I’m not ruining it all over a misunderstanding. Okay, it’s a fucking scam, but they don’t know that.
I sit, all eyes trained only on me.
“Hadley filled us in on your little white lie.” As Hayes spouts his words, his mouth twists as if he’s just bitten into a lemon. “What would you like for us to call you? Bella or Bowie?”
I narrow my eyes at my boss, pretty fucking sure I’m being punked.
“You’re not firing me?” My question is directed at Hayes, and just as he raises a condemning brow at me, Orion cuts off whatever it is he was about to say.
“No. Name changes aren’t a sufficient cause for termination. As you told Hadley, people do it all the time.” Okay. My spirits begin to soar, my back straight as a steel bar with a nervous grin that would probably scare small children as I realize I’m going to be okay. It’s fine.
“We do, however, need you to take some of Ginny’s workload from her. Are you familiar with Mediabase and SoundScan?” Oh, am I ever. I studied for this when we first started planning the con.
“Yes. Mediabase monitors radio airplay in both the United States and Canadian markets. The data there is used in all the popular countdown radio shows and what the different music awards are based upon.” I take in a breath and it doesn’t escape my notice that Orion’s eyes are bright with pride. Or heat. Notquite sure, to be honest. “SoundScan, well, Luminate now, tracks the sales of all music products. Again, the U.S and Canada. It’s what the Billboard music charts use to announce the sales of artists.”
“That’s correct, but it only works if the production companies have registered the artists. We need you to cross-reference, make sure we’ve got all of our musicians and groups—don’t forget the solo artists who record outside their groups—on both registries. From now on, we want you to update the numbers once a day. Ginny used Abby’s charts to monitor the rising and falling songs on the charts. It’s crucial that we keep those numbers viable and up to date.”
I nod, making a mental note to become the master at this shit so I don’t disappoint them again.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Fuck.” Hayes turns around like I’ve just personally insulted him. I blink back my surprise and slam my mouth closed before any rude comment flies out of my mouth.
“Okay. That’s it. Just keep doing everything else we’ve asked you to do plus this.” Orion sits on the corner of Hayes’s desk, making the outline of his cock visible to the naked eye.
“Great. And um, I’m sorry I wasn’t openly honest with you but I really didn’t think it was a big deal.” Standing and clasping my hands together, I am the picture of a good girl.
Hadley snorts and it takes everything in me not to punch his throat. Although, I’m pretty sure he’d kill me before I made contact.
“Don’t do it again.” This comes from Hayes, who hasn’t turned back around, just speaks over his shoulder. Condescending prick.
By the end of the day, I feel confident that this is going to work out just fine. Walking back from the photocopier with three files in hand, color-coded and in order, I check the daily reports andresults of every errand I ran up until now to make sure I’m not missing anything. Then I place each one on the secretaries’ desks and walk back to my desk to grab my purse.
That’s when I see it.
All last week, I had bunny origami placed on my desk every night before I left. It was cute. I mean, who doesn’t love a rabbit? Hell, I’m even getting used to this nickname Hadley has for me.
Tonight, though, it’s not the prey looking up at me.
Tonight, it’s the predator in the form of a gray howling wolf.
Hadley would be the easy guess but unless he’s got supernatural powers of invisibility or teleportation, I can’t see how it could be him
It’s not hard to extrapolate, here. I’m the bunny and whoever is leaving the origami is telling me that they’re going to eat me up alive…
Bon appetit, motherfucker.
The next couple of days are basically rinse and repeat.
Coffee, scones, chit chat, then errands.
On both nights, I get a little visitor on my desk in the form of a wolf, each meticulous fold identical to the day before with only the color of the paper changing.
Last week, I was sure it was some kind of initiation prank from a coworker, but besides Drew, Crosby, and Ginny, I don’t really mingle with anyone else. And Ginny and Drew don’t strike me as the office jokesters. Crosby, on the other hand, would probably enjoy making me sweat a little. Still, I’m not getting that vibe from him.