Beauty and the Assassin

by Nadia Lee

  “Thank you,” I say, flushing with pleasure. She has a way of giving compliments that feels genuine and puts me at ease. “You look wonderful, too.” Now that she’s out from behind her desk, I see that she’s wearing a pair of silver stilettos that set the dress off perfectly.

  “Thanks.” She beams. “I read your résumé. You’ve had some interesting experience and seen a lot of the country.”

  “Um. Yeah.” I smile mainly because I’m not sure if she means good interesting or bad interesting. Her timbre is warm, but I get the feeling that that’s her default state.

  “I appreciate your diverse experience because the people we serve come from all sorts of backgrounds. I don’t understand their struggles at the most fundamental level because I haven’t experienced them myself. So it’s important that we have people who do know at the foundation.”

  “I see.”

  “So if you want, you can start anytime. Do you have any questions?”

  “Uh…” I blink. My brain seems to be stuck because it can’t seem to parse what she said. “Do you have any questions?”

  Elizabeth bursts out laughing. “Me?”

  I clear my throat, suddenly flustered. “Well, um… This is an interview, but you haven’t asked me anything.”

  “Oh.” She nods. “That’s fair. It’s just that we already met, and I like you. For interns, the most important requirement is that you’re likable, empathetic and down to earth. We don’t expect our interns to know everything, but we expect them to be eager to learn and help. And that’s the impression I got, so I think you’re good to go. Unless you disagree?”

  “No,” I say hurriedly. “Thank you. I’m just…surprised. I didn’t know you were… I mean, I didn’t realize the shopping trip was an interview.”

  “And that matters even more, since I got to see you the way you are, rather than whatever you want to present at an interview. Plus, Tolyan already sent me the background check on you—”

  My whole body tenses. What did he put on it? Anything about Roy?

  “—and it looks good.” Her expression remains warm and friendly.

  I guess not. Whew. I just don’t like talking about Roy. It’s just embarrassing and weird. Like telling somebody you have cooties, which isn’t that far from the truth, since he is the cooties of the family.

  “The pay is as posted on the site.”

  I give her a blank look, so she names a figure that leaves me speechless. Holy shit! That’s more than I make at both my part-time jobs! I can quit like Tolyan said, and still come out ahead!

  “I guess Tolyan didn’t tell you…?” she says, amused.

  “No.”

  “Unfortunately, the job doesn’t come with dental or vision, but you get access to the concierge medical service the foundation supplies to all employees. Rhonda or Patrice can give you the details, but it basically covers your primary care in full, and you can access a team of doctors at any time to consult about your medical needs. We also have medical catastrophe coverage if you want, where the foundation covers seventy percent of the cost.”

  Wow… I never had anything like that at my other jobs. And I never expected dental or vision from an internship, so having any coverage at all seems awesome.

  “The full-time internship is for three months, but it’s renewable, with an opportunity to be hired for a permanent full-time position later.”

  “Thank you,” I say, still processing what this means. I hope my alarm clock doesn’t go off because I’m going to cry if this turns out to be a dream. “Thank you so much.”

  “My pleasure. Just let Rhonda know when you can start.”

  I want to tell Elizabeth I can start right now, but I should tell Maggie at the café first. The risk-averse part of me says I shouldn’t quit my barista job since the position at the Pryce Family Foundation is only for three months, even if it is renewable. But at the same time, Tolyan said it’d be difficult for him to keep me safe if I’m not where he is, and being at the café doesn’t qualify.

  Making things easier for Tolyan comes first. I can always get another barista job.

  “Okay. And thanks again,” I say.

  “Welcome to the foundation.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Angelika

  When I come out of Elizabeth’s office, Tolyan’s not at his desk.

  I go over to Rhonda and tell her I’m going to be the new intern.

  “Oh, great! We can always use the extra help,” she says. “When are you starting? Maybe tomorrow, hint hint?” She gives me a friendly wink.

  I smile, enchanted with this super-nice lady. It would’ve been a disappointment if she turned out to be a female version of Eric. “I think so. But let me check with my other boss first and adjust my schedule.”

  “Awesome. Just text me when you know.” She gives me her number.

  I put it into my contact list, then look back at Tolyan’s desk. He’s still not back. I borrow a Post-it from Rhonda and leave him a short note.

  I got the internship! :) Going to the café now for my shift. I’ll see you at 5:30.

  Then, just in case, I leave him my number. I don’t think I gave it to him. Actually, now that I think about it, I don’t have his number, either. Have to remember to ask him for it later.

  I walk the two blocks from the foundation to the café. There are enough pedestrians that I don’t feel too nervous. Maybe it’s a bit naïve, but I feel like having people around makes it less likely for Roy’s guys to come after me. Leaving too many witnesses and all. Actually, my worry is Roy sending another package to the café. He doesn’t normally send one so soon after another, but he’s already broken pattern by sending me a package on Saturday. Usually he waits a little longer before letting me know he’s found me and he’s watching.

  Let’s hope he doesn’t break it again and make another move against me.

  But even if he does, I doubt he can really hurt me, not when Tolyan’s on my side. My gut feeling is that not many things can get past the man. My first impression of him was right: he’s like an angel of retribution and justice.

  Thinking of him suffuses me with more confidence and knowledge that I’m not alone anymore. That I have somebody in my corner. It’s been so long since I felt this way, and it’s such a blessing. The universe or whatever amazing force up there sent him to me, like fate.

  The walk to the café is spectacularly uneventful. I open the door and step inside, feeling like I’m walking on clouds. But I could be walking on broken glass and still feel like everything’s awesome.

  “Hey, you look nice,” Sean says.

  “Thanks.” I smile, then add, “So do you.”

  He clears his throat, nods and starts tapping on his phone.

  Eric comes out from the back. He gives me a once-over, then frowns. “You’re late.”

  I glance at the clock. I’m one minute late. But based on his tone, it might as well be hours.

  “Sorry,” I say, since he’s right that I’m late.

  “You gotta take your job seriously,” he says, staring down at me.

  “Like I said. Sorry.” I don’t want to argue with him. I’m in too good a mood.

  “It’s not like you had a good reason to be late.”

  I just smile. I don’t want to tell him, because he was talking about applying for the internship. He’ll probably be annoyed that I got it but he hasn’t—if he had, he would’ve bragged about it for sure. And I don’t want to deal with him being passive-aggressive for the rest of the day. “It won’t happen again.”

  “See that it doesn’t. Or your ass is out the door.”

  I just give him an “ooo-kay” look and go to the employee room to put on an apron. What’s up with him today? A fender bender on his way to work? Or maybe somebody called him Erik with a K. It’s seriously irritating he’s acting like he’s the manager when it’s his mom who’s really in charge.

  I clock in. The café’s not too busy, but I wait until every customer has their order
to text Maggie. I let her know about my new job and that I’ll be quitting Coffee Heaven.

  –Maggie: I wish you’d told me you applied when we talked. It’s a pain to hire somebody just to have them quit right after you train them.

  She can’t possibly mean she had to train me. Eric showed me how to use the register, but I already know how to make all the fancy drinks on the menu and do latte art. I even made one with a flower for her during our interview, which she absolutely loved.

  –Maggie: Luckily, a few baristas have asked for more hours. I’ll see who I can move around so you can start your important internship ASAP.

  She ends the text with an eye-roll emoji. Okay, fine. She’s just irritated about redoing her schedule, but she doesn’t have to act like a martyr. It isn’t like she wouldn’t have done what I’m doing if the situation were reversed.

  –Maggie: But I might need you to come in for a few hours on weekends for the next two weeks, so do send me your internship schedule.

  I don’t really want to, but since I’m feeling just a tad guilty about leaving her in a lurch, and Roy’s probably going to lie low for a while, I decide not to argue.

  –Me: Okay. I’ll do that.

  I contact Mina at the hotel catering service and give her my notice, too. She’s much more gracious about the whole thing.

  That done, I text Rhonda to let her know I can start tomorrow.

  –Rhonda: Yay! I’ll have your HR paperwork ready.

  I smile at her enthusiasm. I have a feeling I’m going to love working with her. Nothing from Tolyan, though.

  The rest of the shift is uneventful. No deliveries, except for some specialty coffee beans from our supplier.

  We have a surge of customers between three and four, and once they’re taken care of, it gets sort of quiet and boring.

  Sean and Eric are on their phones. I check mine, too. Nothing exciting there, of course. I have no real friends other than Courtney, and I have no social media feeds to look at. Tolyan still hasn’t texted me or anything. I thought he’d at least say, “Congrats,” after seeing my note. Maybe he’s just busy. I shouldn’t let it bother me.

  A little after five, Eric is tapping on his phone when he suddenly yells, “What the fuck?”

  I glance over. A few of the customers are looking at him as well.

  Eric tears his eyes from the phone. He glares at me, his face bright red. “You got an internship at the Pryce Family Foundation?”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Tolyan

  I shut down my laptop at five o’clock sharp.

  “Heading home?” Rhonda says as she’s packing her stuff up.

  “Yes.”

  “How’s your son doing at Berkeley?” she asks, being her typical chatty, friendly self. “Adjusting well?”

  She always maintains a certain level of friendliness. When she fails to hit it, I know something’s wrong in her personal life. Makes my job of monitoring people at the foundation easier.

  “As well as expected. How’s your daughter?” It’s good to show interest in her child, even though I already know exactly what her family members are up to. A reciprocal interest in a longtime colleague’s offspring is expected.

  “She’s looking over colleges. Says she wants to be a vet.” Rhonda beams—a proud mother.

  I nod. “A noble profession.” Anybody who helps animals is good.

  We step inside the elevator. She pushes the button for the garage, and I hit the one for the lobby.

  “You aren’t heading home?” Rhonda says.

  “I’m meeting someone.”

  “Angelika, maybe? The new intern?”

  So she remembers that we came in together. “Yes.”

  “She seems like a nice girl.”

  “Yes.” Far too nice and innocent. And not wary enough. If she were, she wouldn’t have so readily put herself in my power, especially after having seen me go into Rick Owen’s house.

  On the other hand, our interests are aligned at the moment. She hasn’t said it explicitly, but she wants her stepbrother permanently eliminated. It’s understandable. Death is the only real solution to somebody like Roy Wilks.

  I walk across the expanse of the lobby and nod at one of the security guards, who returns the nod with a slightly nervous smile. But that man is always on edge. If I hadn’t checked his background, I might think he was an addict.

  I go out to the street and head toward the café. About halfway there, the phone in my left pocket buzzes. I glance at the screen, and satisfaction suffuses me like fine vodka.

  Courtney Young. I knew you’d come through.

  I contemplate a proper reward—or would it be a punishment?—for her part of the deal. Betrayal deserves something painful in return…

  But there will be time enough for that later. I drop the phone back into my pocket and step into the café.

  “You got an internship at the Pryce Family Foundation?” Eric is screeching, his face so red he looks like he’s about to have a stroke.

  I stop to watch the scene. Apparently he heard. Surprising. I thought she’d share the good news the second she came to the café.

  “Yeah,” Angelika says, apparently too focused on Eric to notice me.

  “You bitch! That’s mine! You stole it from me!”

  Stole? Lizochka wouldn’t have hired him after speaking to him for a single minute. And even if she had a catastrophic lapse in judgment and hired him anyway, he wouldn’t last a day with that holier-than-thou attitude.

  “I didn’t—”

  He steps forward, breathing hard and shoving his face in hers. “You heard me talking about it, and you decided to steal it from me!” He jabs her in the chest with his finger.

  I let him do it, mainly to have the security cameras in the café capture his aggression. Not that the cameras are necessary, because the other barista and customers in the café are pulling out their phones.

  I turn my face away from the seating area as I move in. Anger flashes in Angelika’s whiskey eyes. “What’s your problem? I didn’t steal anything from you.”

  “The fuck you didn’t!” Now there is spit flying from Eric’s mouth.

  He starts to jab Angelika in the chest again. I step forward, intercept the finger and twist—hard enough to hurt, but not quite hard enough to break it.

  “Ow!” he yelps. “What the fuck, man?”

  “No hitting a woman.”

  “I didn’t hit her! I was just making a point. Like this!” He uses his other hand and jabs me in the bicep. “That’s not hitting!”

  I look down at him. Nobody has taught this man-child a lesson.

  “It can still be painful.” I let go of him and jab a finger into his sternum hard enough to send him stumbling back, his eyes widening with pain. Given his skinny arms and legs, the boy has very little physical strength. Just a loud mouth and a propensity toward aggression against women, who are bound to be smaller and weaker than he is. I doubt he’s ever picked a fight with a worthy opponent.

  “What the hell, man? I didn’t do it that hard,” he says, rubbing his chest and wincing.

  I smile at him. “Neither did I.”

  He glares at me, but the fear is there, flickering in his gaze. He might be a moron, but his survival instincts are intact. It’s just pride that’s preventing him from backing down.

  “You!” He points at Angelika, since she’s the most obvious target for his ire. Maybe he doesn’t understand taking it out on a weaker person just makes him look pathetic. “You’re fired!”

  “You can’t fire me. You’re not the manager!” she shoots back.

  I’m content to watch so long as Eric’s not resorting to physical violence. The little fawn can handle this loser.

  “I’m like an assistant manager here, and I say you’re fired!” He slashes the air with his hand. “Don’t come back here again!”

  Her eyes narrow. “Are you firing me because I got the internship you wanted?”

  “No! It’s because y
our attitude is shit and you aren’t committed to this job!”

  My patience starts to fray. “We can leave anytime you like, Angelika.”

  “Stay out of this, asshole!” Eric screams, shifting away slightly.

  “Don’t talk to him like that,” she says before I can respond. “He’s not the asshole here, you are!”

  Did she just defend me? I watch in amusement. Nobody has ever done that before. I’m the defender, not the other way around.

  She starts marching to the back.

  “Where are you going?” he demands.

  “To grab my things and clock out!” she shouts back. “I’m leaving.”

  “Great! Go. Don’t come back!” Then he turns to me. “And you aren’t welcome here either! Ever! Get your coffee elsewhere!”

  Does he think I came by here a few times for their lousy coffee?

  “I don’t think he comes here for the coffee,” the other barista says, still holding his phone out. I look away from him.

  “He bought it twice,” Eric says.

  “He’s right. I was never here for the coffee. Your coffee is mediocre,” I say.

  “What? How dare you!” Eric says. “You wouldn’t know good coffee if it slapped you in the face!”

  “Would you care to test that?” I gaze at him. He does his best to stare me down, but fails. He swallows and averts his eyes.

  What he needs is a fairytale ending. Not a pretty Disney version, but the true Grimm version. The Three Little Men in the Wood would be a great one. It’s an obscure tale, but it ends with the villains stuffed into a barrel that’s had long nails hammered into it iron-maiden style. Then they are rolled down a hill and into a river.

  Body disposal would be tricky in that scenario, but it’s a fairytale. Bodies were taken care of, happily ever after.

  Eric’s Adam’s apple bobs. He won’t meet my eyes, although his hands are clenched into fists.

  The absolute worst kind of trash. The second I turned my back, he would attack if he thought he could take me out. But he knows he can’t, so he’s just going to stand there shaking, then vent his ire on some innocent bystander.