Chapter 3 - Whoever Does Not Live to Serve
Anon closed the window blinds and turned the lights off before leaving the room. He walked down the corridor under the few flickering lightbulbs, assuming everyone else had already gone home by then.
Making his way across the chilling, stuck silence of the walls, Anon put an end to his worries of that day so he could focus on the ones that would follow. Nights could be refreshing if only he pretended he had somewhere else to go or something else to do.
Before he could reach the stairs, the rough voice of an elderly man called him from behind. He stopped and turned around, taking a look at his boss trotting towards him.
“Wait, Anon! Hold on!”
“Mr. Alcántara! Good evening, sir. I thought you had left hours ago,” Anon stood there until the old man caught up.
“I might have, boy. I’ve been waiting for you to come out of your office already… isn’t it too late now?”
“Uh, I’m sorry. Forgive me. Time goes by so fast I can’t keep track of it…” Anon bit his tongue as he avoided saying anything that would warrant a big deal. For some reason, he felt guilty even after that.
“It should be time for us to talk. I’ve been meaning to speak with you since a yesterday, but it wasn’t in my interest to interrupt you kids, seeing how busy you are.”
Anon apologized again, now less concerned about a lecture than about his takeaway of that. It sounded important, but for whatever reason Mr. Alcántara stretched his leniency with them. The hierarchy of priorities did not seem right.
“We work under you, you shouldn’t worry about that, sir. Calling for me would have been enough.”
“Is that so?” Mr. Alcántara took a look at him. He covered his smile with a quiet cough. “Well, I just wanted to ask how you have been feeling lately.”
Anon sighed. He figured the conversation would go there. “It’s been a good couple of days if I must admit. We’re working fine now, there’s no need to worry.”
“So you’ve been a little more forethoughtful with your health this week? That’s good.”
“No, mister, that wasn’t…” Anon tried diffuse the idea his boss had about his recent slip, but found no decent reason to lie. Blushing, he just shut his mouth and nodded, embarrassed for all the trouble he gave the foreigners.
“That lady, Ms. Kassandra, she got very worked up last Friday, Anon. I’m sure you must have realized.”
“… Yes. I have apologized to her personally. I am very sorry for this, sir, you must have been very disappointed. She told me you sent her to check on me, and that was beyond intolerable from me. Nothing like that should happen again.”
“If you say you’re sorry then everything is fine by me, Anon. I was just making sure you weren’t having troubles now, so don’t worry. However, I did not send the girl after you if that’s what you’re thinking. It was her who asked me how to find you.” Mr. Alcántara winked, making Anon quickly fluster up.
“That… I did not know that…”
“You could see it in her eyes how concerned she was. That’s the sign of a good woman, don’t you think?”
Anon shied away in his response, getting uncomfortable with what the conversation was turning into. Looking down, all he could do was mutter in agreement a quiet “mm-hmm” with his mouth closed. Mr. Alcántara could tell his attention was going somewhere else, so he eased his steps as they walked down.
“Brighten up, boy, you should feel lucky to have a girl like that in your office every day.” Mr. Alcántara swung his arms around, musically conducting the tone of his voice with his old cane. Of course Anon did not answer that. His shame was enough to stop himself from saying it out loud.
Mr. Alcántara opened the front door for the two of them, pointing out to the street with his cane to let Anon step outside. Emerging from the shadows, a janitor stood up in the reception and took his chance to leave with them. He closed the door and locked the place for the night after a few grumbles.
He said farewell, certainly more than annoyed for having to wait for them; even going as far as refusing Mr. Alcántara’s offer to go somewhere for dinner. The janitor disappeared, leaving Anon and Mr. Alcántara for themselves.
“What about you? Should we grab a bite?”
“I think maybe next time, sir. Isn’t it a bit too late?” Anon gave his canned response.
“I see… Well, it’s only late if you think it is. I’m sure plenty of restaurants might still be open…” The old man did not allow the rejection to wash his youthlike mood away, and he cheerfully itched to resume their conversation. “So, as I was saying… Ms. Kassandra…”
“I don’t think that’s something you should be encouraging, sir…” Anon stopped him.
“Hm? But I know you, I’m aware you’re not the type that would get easily distracted. Something is just bound to happen when it’s a man and a woman in the same room for hours. With how distressed she was for you, I’m betting you have a chance. You’re a fine young man, you’re single.”
Anon would have walked away, and a part of him wanted to; in fact, he had turned away already, but a groan of his own dragged him back to answer after a few steps.
“Yes, I’m fine already. To bet it away would be…” Anon mumbled to himself. Mr. Alcántara leaned in, unable to hear what he said; Anon could tell his boss was curious for a response. He had to acknowledge it, he was demanded to give it some thought and speak his mind out loud.
“Aren’t you cheering for the wrong man here? We’re basically strangers, she was just doing her job. You’d have more luck encouraging Mr. Forrester, although it might be disappointing for you if he doesn’t have a need for a matchmaker.”
Mr. Alcántara looked up and thought about it. “Hm, it’s true that he’s also there, isn’t he?” He patted Anon’s back and stopped himself from smiling at Anon’s transparency. “Regardless, you could always wait for him to leave the room and do your thing. He can’t have his eyes on her all the time.”
“Huh?!” Anon’s face went red after that. He should have known he was getting old man advice talking to Mr. Alcántara so late at night. It was not worth it to explain how that was not even an option. “You have a very skewed idea of what goes on in my office. We come here to do our job and nothing more.”
“I’m just rooting for you, that’s all. I’m trying to help you with that bad habit of yours.”
Funny, Anon thought, where had he recently heard something like that? He remained silent as his boss walked into his car.
“You don’t need to root for me, sir. We should instead worry about what the foreigners will make of their time here.”
“We can do both, boy. Picking favorites is just another part of my job. No boss should be completely impartial. I trust you more, so isn’t it natural?”
Anon let out a tired sigh. He had been awake so long that it gave him a headache. Even then, he did not expect a sound night of sleep, so he simply stared down as Mr. Alcántara stepped into his car. He did not find it in him to argue against his boss’s judgement anymore. “I guess so.”
“Come on, get inside, I’ll take you home,” Mr. Alcántara invited. Anon raised his head and took a glance at him through the window.
“It’s alright, I can walk. You know it’s nearby,” Anon shot him down.
“You make this too hard. Do it, it’s an order. It’s also a boss’s job to make sure you do fine.” His boss pushed open the right door from the inside, inviting Anon into the cabin with his hand, to which he finally yielded.
Anon groaned and laid on the seat, letting his head rest against the window. He had ridden a few times, but he never found himself comfortable in a car.
No matter how clear his mind had been since making up with Mr. Forrester, the nap he had after Ms. Resnick’s visit had proven to be nothing more than an oddity. Things had gotten more bearable, but every so often, and especially when pushed to speak, Anon’s mind wandered back to the same old thoughts. Logged in the copilot seat as the wheels ran over mud and scared every stray dog nearby, he drowned in the sluggish night. Mr. Alcántara kept preaching to him about the reciprocal nature of a community or something like that, and he took the memo and agreed to have dinner the next time if that could just give him some peace.
***
“Hum dum-dum-hum hum ~”
There were few things Kassandra enjoyed more than a sparklingly clean floor early in the morning. It was the only way to start the day on the right foot, especially midway through the week, and it was already Wednesday. It was another Wednesday.
She had gotten used to it: all the sweeping and mopping and then scrubbing every surface with a wet rag. She could do it in under fifteen minutes in a room that size, but she never rushed. Simple stuff like that was never a bother, the effort was natural for her.
Kassandra made her way down the stairs with all the cleaning supplies in her hands. She held them tight in case she had to greet anyone on the way. She knew most people would not arrive until later, but she had to be ready to bow and smile just in case. Almost everyone had grown used to her already, but she could not let any mistake slip by—after all, presentation was as important as anything else.
After returning to the office, Kassandra exchanged a few glances with those white petals waiting for her in their little jar. She stepped closer to the drawer, walking to the sunlight streaming through the windows. The orchids sat exactly where she had put them, their meaning still not lost on her. Taking care of them had been a new job she had assigned herself without much experience. Watering them was the least she could do, so she took a watering can and poured it into the pot slowly, letting them drink at their own pace. Recently, this had proved to be her favorite part of her morning routine.
She returned to her seat, her eyes still glued to those flowers across the room. With nothing more to do then, she finally breathed in and out the soothing comfort that everything was in its rightful place. Peace and quiet settled down in the office as if all the clocks had been manually winded up and their hands turned with perfect timing.
Being the one who had turned the room hospitable in the first place, that same satisfaction lingered like a chord being played every time she cleaned, extending the tune for a little more. It was hard to suddenly stop, and nothing pressured her to find a reason to. Kassandra simply never doubted it was worth it. A room that returned the favor with gratitude was one of the pleasures of a servant, a feeling Kikimoras were very familiar with. However, had anyone been there to see, she would have made it clear that it had not been entirely her doing. Of course, secretaries were only ever as good as their bosses.
Leaning back within the confines of her chair, she brushed the surface of her typewriter with her fingers. The keys bulging down popped like marbles between her feathers, the machine was a spotless piece of work that she could not stop admiring. There was one just like it in their hotel, but she could not take it with her; she had not even thought about it, but regardless, she liked this one better.
Pressing the space bar repeatedly, waiting in silence, she rested her body on the desk. Everything in the room had to match the vibrancy of a machine fresh out of its box or else she would feel ungrateful. It would have been a pity for that brightness not to be infectious to everyone else. At least she hoped for that.
However, that fantasy was quickly disrupted by a flicker running up Kassandra’s spine, making her nearly jump out of her seat. Wide eyed, she glanced at the door, afraid of what she could have invoked. It could have been her mind, she thought. “It might just be a coincidence.” She wanted to hold to naivety as her eyes fixed to the doorknob, hoping they would not see what her other senses were alarming her of. An unpleasant air crept into the room and engulfed her in fear. Then the door creaked open, and Kassandra had to promptly cover up her nose to avoid being hit by that awful smell.
“Good morning, Ms. Resnick,” Mr. Anon said as he walked into the room.
His face betrayed his lack of self-awareness, his smile was that of an innocent boy, which soon turned into concern after looking at her. “Are you ok today, miss? Do you have any allergies?”
Kassandra sighed. Two days, it had been two days since her master and Mr. Anon had made up. If that was how long it took for him to revert back to a stranger, the thought was indeed worrisome. She had to discard that fear however, choosing rather to imagine a more plausible explanation that was quick to come to mind.
Anon had unconsciously sprayed himself with a lot more alcohol than he was used to, not measuring his smell nor realizing his own anxiety before leaving his apartment. As to what had his nerves so uneased, she could only let her imagination fill in the blanks. To be honest, she had grown tired of him coming every day reeking off of ethyl alcohol, but it was funny enough to psychoanalyze him right then.
“Getting a little shy, are we not?” she joked in her head. “Oh, no, mister. Excuse me, I just thought I had smelled something. Good morning.”
Anon’s smile then turned into one of shrewd self-satisfaction. “I see…”
“What are you getting so proud of, mister?!” Kassandra immediately ran in her head after that. “Was it really on purpose?! Give me a break.”
Anon sat down in his chair, grabbing one of his logbooks and getting started with their work. He tried locking his eyes down to his desk, but for some reason Mr. Alcántara’s voice seemed to never quiet down at the back of his head. He scoffed at his advice, trying to concentrate in what was in front of him with all his might, and it took a while for that to work out.
“Feeling nervous is unavoidable…” He wondered how much Forrester would take to bring everything he was assigned to the day before. Until he came back, Anon and Kassandra would be alone in the office, and that was something that Anon wished he could not brood over so much.
Doing his best to shove all that aside, he noticed that Ms. Resnick had been sneaking a few glances at him, although it flew over his head that he could tell since he had been doing the same thing—completely unintentional from his side, naturally. For the last couple of days, Ms. Resnick had been floating around in his mind, regardless of his boss bringing her up or not, and he was not willing to admit that she had dulled some of his constant anguish by virtue of being there. She was like a balloon wiping toxins away from his brain, or at least she had been until he allowed himself to question why exactly.
“Her eyes…” he thought of. Again, he closed his eyes forcefully and stopped himself before getting any funny ideas. He was well aware of his place and position, embarrassed to even put in doubt the limits of their shallow acquaintanceship. He lowered his head closer to the table, slowing his heartbeat down and making silence go by faster. Unbeknownst to him, Kassandra was dying, desperate for clean air.
Mr. Anon could not have been more heavily misguided about montergirls’ sensitivity to smell. Instead of hiding his claim status, he was overloading their senses, which would have been harmless as usual given the regular amount of repellent. It was not in any way harmless that particular day. Kassandra had to think of it as a miracle that he had not been forcefully claimed on the way to the office. Pulling a stunt like that close to a Hellhound or any other aggressive monstergirl would not have been taken as a little prank, or so Kassandra thought.
She was already getting a bit dizzy. The windows were open as they usually were, but that was not enough to make the smell any less overwhelming. It was far too strong to focus on anything, and if that was bad on its own right, whenever she and Mr. Anon had to exchange something, Kassandra would suffocate by proximity. The fan could have helped, but it was too far away to dissipate the odor.
“Mister, may I move the fan?”
“Why would you need to ask? Go ahead, I don’t mind,” Anon replied, confused out of his mind when she plugged the cord to a closer socket and placed the fan right next to him, facing away from her.
“Thank you, mister, that is a lot better,” she smiled, finally able to take a deep breath.
“I have the impression I should be feeling hurt in some way,” Anon said.
“Nonsense. The fan simply looks the most appropriate by your side. That is all.”
“Should we at least have it rotate?” Anon stood up, but Kassandra desperately shook her head, pleading he did not. “Ok, I see…”
The two of them sat down again, resuming their morning. Anon gave the last part on his side for Kassandra to finish sorting and spent his time looking at her working with her typewriter. She had a serious and unexpressive poker face whenever she worked, the same impression he picked from her when they first met, but one that had faded somewhat. More often than not, he closed his eyes and saw her standing in front of him again, holding his face with both hands as her amber pupils dazzled at him.
Anon rested his head on his arms and felt his hands starting to tremble. “Say, Ms. Resnick…”
“Yes, mister?” she turned to look at him. His voice was weak, and she wonder what happened.
“Isn’t it a bit chilly?” Anon asked. His body was shivering. He sneezed; a little of snot ran down his nose, which he quickly wiped with his handkerchief.
“My goodness! I must have pressed the strongest setting, I am sorry.” Kassandra felt guilty, thoughtless of how frail Mr. Anon’s body was.
Anon stood up and asked “Is it ok if I turn it off?”
“Oh, no, no, no! It is a very hot day today, is it not?” Kassandra replied urgently. She also did not want to be flooded by the stench of Anon’s artificial scent.
“Eh? Then the fan should be facing you…” Anon turned the fan around, sending many pages on Kassandra’s table flying as if a gust of wind had assaulted the room.
“…”
“Ah. Sorry.” Anon stared blankly at the mess he did on the floor and her desk. The plainness of his voice bounced off the blades of the fan slowing to a stop. When he crouched down to grab one of the pages at his feet, a handful of paperclips dropped from his breast pocket to the floor, making another mess on top.
“Heh…” Kassandra burst out laughing. “Hahahaha! Oh, Lord! Haha… Sorry, mister, I am sorry!” She was quick to cover her mouth, not to be impolite, but it was far too late for that sort of consideration for Anon. He realized “This must be how men turn impotent…”
“No. Forgive me, I’ll pick everything back up,” Anon said, reaching out for everything near his feet.
“Oh, no, mister. Do not worry about that. I will pick it up,” Kassandra got down to the floor to do the same thing. She had completely recovered her composure.
“It is my fault, just let me do it…” Anon continued, getting more documents as he did.
Kassandra glanced at him for a bit without saying a thing. Anon stopped moving, looking back at her as she did nothing but stare. For a second the two of them stoop to the floor in silence. Anon’s hand began shaking a little, nervous for as long as no one spoke. Then, the distance between the two finally caught up with them, and Anon flinched when Kassandra covered her nose without breaking eye contact. When her look turned into anger, Anon wondered if he had been worrying for no reason.
“Uh, Ms. Resnick…?”
“Sorry, mister, I was experiencing a déjà vu. It seems there is a hopeless man who has not learned to read the room.”
Anon winched, putting all the papers down. “Ok, ok, I get it,” he said. He stood back up to let her pick things up by herself. “Sorry, it’s just a little weird to…”
“Is it weird to have an assistant?” Kassandra asked.
“It feels unfair, if I’m being honest. Like abuse.” Anon finished his thought. “Isn’t it frustrating having to fix someone else’s mess? I was free to…”
“To pick the pages I let go?” Kassandra giggled. “I like my job, mister. I will take care of it. You would not think there is anything wrong with that, would you?” She stood up, holding the stack of paper with both hands close to her chest. She placed the documents under a paperweight on her desk and faced Anon. Her voice was comforting and warm. “You should take advantage now that you have someone willing to help.”
Anon nodded as he gave a step back. He would have gladly given it all away to forget his conversation with Mr. Alcántara the night before, because he was getting second meanings from Ms. Resnick’s honest and straight words. It was agonizingly pathetic, almost as if he really did find something wrong with her pride as a worker.
“Is something the matter, mister?” she asked, looking at his flustered face.
“No, it’s actually nothing. Don’t worry about it…” Anon answered.
He was obviously avoiding the question. Kassandra wondered what could be going on in his mind. He could have been uncomfortable by how upfront she was about her disposition to serve, but she doubted it was a cultural difference. No one else seemed to be bothered when she did things for them, so Mr. Anon must had had a personal grievance.
Kassandra took a second to look at his distant, distracted gaze, thinking back to anything that could possibly make him feel better. But before she could say anything, the door blew wide open.
“Hello! Good morning,” Forrester walked into the room, carrying both his suit jacket and suit case on his shoulder, visibly sweating from the heat. It was close to noon by then. “How has it been?”
He had to ask, somewhat puzzled by the manner in which he found the two of them in the room. “Wow, you both look very red. It’s been a very hot day so far, right? You should’ve turned the fan on,” he said.
Hearing that, Kassandra placidly walked to the fan and turned it back on after the short intermission it gave them, now facing it straight at Forrester, oblivious to his bad timing. Anon sat down over his desk, not resenting the way their conversation had been cut off.
“Is that better, master?”
Forrester snorted a bit, trying to get a good grasp on what was that smell. “Is that repellent? I didn’t know there were mosquitoes here. I can imagine that’s annoying.”
“Oh, yes, master, very,” Kassandra shamelessly replied.
Anon, curious as to what they meant, took a whiff at his shirt. “Eh…?!” Thinking back to his early morning, he was taken over by the sudden realization. He wished the ground could swallow him whole all the way on the second floor. The day could not be over any sooner.
“Have you eaten lunch yet?” Forrester asked.
“Oh, not yet. I could bring you something, master.” Kassandra offered.
“No, no. I ate with everyone else back in the field. Have a nice meal if you’re going.” Forrester gave a gentle nod and went to sit down.
As Kassandra almost excused herself out, she turned around and took another curious glance at Mr. Anon.
“Should I bring you something, mister?” She had recently begun to ask him every day.
“Oh, no. I was thinking on going to look for something myself later,” Anon answered with his face down, beaten down enough to never ask for anything ever again.
In a flash, Kassandra foresaw a future in which Mr. Anon mindlessly stepped outside the building, catching the attention of any sensible Ocelotl and getting raped before he could even call for help. He should have known he was asking for it.
“I think it would be better if you stayed here, mister. I will be bringing something for you,” she told him.
“But I…”
“I am bringing it to you, do not come out of the office,” she remarked with a cold smile as she closed the door shut.
Anon was left in the room, insecure about his smell and getting hungry. Forrester was impressed and declared “Wow, Mr. Anon, it’s the first time I ever see anyone getting commanded by a Kikimora like that.”
“So this is how men turn impotent,” Anon realized again.
A couple of blocks down the avenue, there was a wide public pavilion where food stalls would gather and sell different dishes around that time of day. Kassandra and Lucía had made it a daily occurrence walking—or slithering—together and eating their lunch as they talked at their table. After about a month working in the same building, the two had turned into good friends.
Initially surprised by how unnoticeable Kassandra’s accent was when speaking in human tongue, Lucía waited no time to ask her about life back in the US. How life went for a servant of the Stills, how many sisters she had, what it really was like living in a big city: she had to know it all. And how could she miss filling her new friend in on all the office gossip? They might have been mostly funny stories, but drama was a scarce thing to come by.
Lucía herself was a married woman. Her husband worked laying bricks for a contractor not too far away from their office, and Kassandra could still recall his face a little when they passed by in their welcome party. He was lean man, whose muscles hid well under the second-hand suit he wore. Despite Mrs. Lucía’s seeming brashness, Kassandra could still remember the way her lower snake body would huddle close to him dearly, and she knew that her friend was a sweet woman deep down.
“You never told me, Kassie,” Lucía prefaced. “Is Mr. Anon really married or is that something he made up?”
Kassandra wiped her mouth clean with a napkin. She would have rather discussed how healthy the greasy dish they ordered would really be for her; self-evidence aside, she would never burn calories like a Lamia could, and it was genuinely concerning for her waistline.
“I… I did not meet her, if that is what you mean, miss. She could have been out,” Kassandra deflected. It was her skittish way to avoid getting involved in the propagation of new rumors, but she could tell Mrs. Lucía was not buying it.
“Yes, sure…” After a sigh, she stared right at Kassie, trying to guess what she really thought about it. In turn, Kassandra stopped eating and waited properly for her friend to speak.
“Mrs. Lucía…”
“You’re really way too good…”
Kassandra squinted her eyes, unsure of what to say.
“Since I’ve worked here, that man has always been the same. You only ever see him talk to Mr. Alcántara, like a boy behind his father. He has worked here for longer than some of us and there’s so little to say about him except…”
“Except…?”
“Don’t you think he’s a bit… weird?”
“Wow… That is mean…” Kassandra could only feign an awkward grin. She would not deny the man had his momentary lapses of self-awareness, but that aside, he was getting easier to work with by the day. Her master was equally devoted to his job, and no one seemed to give him the same treatment.
“You could smell it from across the hallway! You can’t tell me that’s normal!” More than a bit of exasperation came through as Lucía brought the earlier incident back. “No sane wife would let a man leave the house like that! It’s fishy! That sort of thing should set off all your alarms!”
Ashamed to admit it, Kassandra turned her face away. It just happened to be that she had also thought the same exact thing before.
“I am sure there must be a reason for that…” Kassandra replied with another attempt at eluding the topic.
Lucía barely held her smile back from curling impishly. “You keep siding with him. Do us a favor and just mark him already. I doubt there’s anyone else who could, and you’ve been to his house already.”
Kassandra did not react much however. She covered her mouth with a napkin and kept chewing her food. There was not really anything she wanted to respond to that. They could talk about it, but claiming him meant assuming responsibility. She gave a soft chuckle imaging all the trouble Mr. Anon would put her through until they could meet on the same page.
“So what? You’re saying it should be Mr. Forrester instead?” Lucía’s scaly tail coiled around her friend’s leg, her eyes set on making her react in any way.
Kassandra almost spitted her drink out. She coughed and held back from laughing, still clinging to her napkin. “Missus, I was only assigned as a secretary because master Still trusted I would not let his son be taken. He has a lover waiting back home, and I shall make a proper use of my time. We have better things to focus on than these.”
“Oh, but I know how you Kikis are. Aren’t you quite devious? Backhanded romantics I would say.”
“There is a limit to what a Kikimora could possible excuse herself for. Acting on a whim is not a behavior we would be proud of,” Kassie said.
“Really? But I think it’s quite justified. Don’t you agree? It is known, secretaries belong to their bosses.” Lucía finally flicked her tongue out with a mischievous grin.
Kassandra frowned. Mrs. Lucía had succeeded in making her cheeks turn red. She had done her best to stay on the right track, following every queue with the appropriate response, but any reply would have given her reproaches away. There were much better ways to handle things than the preposterous and vulgar expression that the Lamia made. After all, the quiet part should never be said out loud.
Done with their lunch, the two monstergirls picked their belongings. Mrs. Lucía helped Kassandra carry a few plates that waited for them at one of the stalls. They returned to their office building, parting ways in the reception. Lucía handed Kassandra her part, loading the secretary with a stack of cardboard dishes wrapped in cloth to keep them apart. Kassandra could easily walk up the stairs like that, trained for housework since a young age. She found it harder to knock on doors, but she held the bundle against her weight and managed to do so.
“Hmm? Oh, Kassie, come on in,” a man opened the door for her. He was a coworker from across the hallway.
“Have a good meal, everyone,” Kassandra unpackaged the dishes on one of the tables, handing out each individual plate.
“You’re a lifesaver. Thank you so much, Kassie.”
Kassandra never forgot to smile and bow. She picked the remaining plates and closed the door as she left. Quickening her pace, almost skipping with her feet, she knocked on the room next door. Noon was the time when she could meet most of her coworkers, during their lunch break. Among all the things she did, she had recently begun to deliver food for some who did not bring from home.
The chance to greet everyone else on a daily basis had taught her how amiable and sociable local people were. They were assertive and warm, a sweeter blend of American than she had met in Virginia. She could not refuse making favors when they needed something, and they thanked her for it, so she was glad to.
“Ms. Resnick…” Anon raised his head when she stepped back into the room. Forrester and he were busy spreading files over one of their desks. Looking at her enter, they stopped just momentarily, which she felt to blame for.
“Forgive me for making you wait, mister.” Kassandra closed the door as quietly as she could. Yet, she had to give up on her attempts at quietness when her steps resonated in the wood floor regardless of her carefulness. Neither was bothered by it, and she stopped right in front of Mr. Anon’s desk.
“No, it’s fine…” Anon was still a bit subdued from earlier. He tried not making too much eye contact with her, but it turned to be futile. When Kassandra placed the plate on his desk and unwrapped it with her slender fingers, he caught a glimpse of her face that took his breath away. Her delicacy regrettably made him think she would make a good mother, and in his best attempt to hide it he managed to keep Kassandra unsuspecting. Her smile, nonetheless, remained consistent with any other time he blushed and looked down. She found it flattering that no one reacted quite like him from her service.
“Thank you,” Anon muttered. “I—How much was it?”
“You can pay me later, mister,” she replied. She did not want to overbear him with worries, mindful of everything they might have been engrossed in while she was away.
The first of their monthly conference meetings with the Department Heads had been programmed for the very next week. Mr. Anon and Mr. Forrester would have to present everything done under Mr. Alcántara’s supervision, and getting ready for the review was their main and only concern until then.
He kept waiting for her answer, but she bowed and looked him in the eyes with enough attention to stop him from staring down. There was only one thing that could calm his troubles.
“After you are done, sir, let us get to work.”
“Yes…” Anon sighed and smiled. He nodded, caught up in the moment. Before he knew it, he was rearranging his table to make some space, blowing on his food to cool it down. Content with the result, Kassandra cheerfully walked to her seat, slightly swaying her hips and tail with every step. Anon seemed to be the only one to notice, and he was quick to cover his cheeks in shame and face the other way.
Kassandra took a seat and had her master fill her in on what they were doing at the time. She listened attentively, almost forgetting for a moment the last thing she and Mrs. Lucía had talked about. The receptionist had told her that, coincidentally, the day of their conference was the same as someone’s birthday, to which Kassandra had to assume who she was referring to. Choosing to focus on more pressing matters, she shoved those thoughts to the back of her head for later. She did not want to slow down their progress by being absentminded.
Quietly and still conflicted, Anon took a bite from his food and found he enjoyed the taste of the sauce, equally sweet and sour. The day was far from over, but taking in the room as everyone else focused on their work felt like a sunset bookend for his nerves. In a way, he found himself enjoying that too.
The brief respite during lunch was the last moment they could spare, and after that their schedule kept tightly measured. The looming arrival of night forced more and more people out of the building, leaving the group to be the last ones keeping guard inside. Catching on to the time, Anon made the reasonable decision to send everyone back home with short and few good-nights. He had an apartment to return to, while Forrester and Kassandra had their hotel.
The American duo walked out to the sidewalk, and Forrester handed his belongings to Kassie. She held them closely, used to the responsibility. The two of them waited for a carriage, their heads peeking from the darkness thanks to the bright moon. Kassandra’s eyes drifted towards its light. She pursed her lips and clenched her arms seeking a little warmth under the dry sky. All her feathers stood up when her master called her. She took her time to realize the carriage was waiting for her.
She apologized, getting on her seat beside Mr. Forrester and resting his suitcase over her lap. Her master must have been exhausted—he sat through the ride without making a sound—, and she could not blame him. He had a busy morning outside on top of their office workload, so it was no wonder he was burned out.
“There is still the matter of what to do for dinner,” she muttered.
“I’d do anything for a steak right now…”
Those demands were why she would have preferred to keep quiet. It had occurred to her that their meals had been too heavy as of late, but she could not find a reason to dispute his choice. The chef back home always found a way to please his cravings, so an excuse was out of the question. And she also considered it a given that he deserved the indulgence; he had to replenish his strength after a long day. “I will see what I can get.”
“It’s just a suggestion, don’t take it to heart, please.” Forrester chuckled.
Kassie shook her head. “What would master Still say if he heard I did not fulfill his son’s request? Please head to your room, young master, nanny will bring your dinner before long.” Both of them laughed, but Kassandra looked away and wondered where she could begin looking.
At the entrance of their hotel, Kassandra returned Mr. Forrester his suitcase. She stepped back, bowing and turning around farther into the dimly lit street. “Take care, it’s late.” He knew she could go by herself, but sometimes it was better to voice his concern.
She simply nodded. “I will be fine.” Her options for food were limited, but she came to a decision soon before having to break up her promise. Making her master go hungry was an offense she would not stoop to.
Kassandra knocked on his door. She always did that before going in. Both slept in separate rooms, but it was a common occurrence for her to stay in his suite for a while when he needed. In nights like that one, Kassandra sat in a chair a few feet away, mostly supporting his efforts to resume work independently. However, the preparations for their conference required, in addition to everything else, plenty of tedious accounting. And lacking an accountant in the group, they all had to make one by pieces, so she resumed her part by his side.
Eventually Forrester began to doze off, and Kassie laid her hand on his shoulder just to tell him to go to bed. He rubbed his eyes and said good night, waving at her as she excused herself out. She locked the door. She held on to the key. All lights were off that late in the hotel, she had to take special care when walking down the stairs.
Her room was smaller than her master, although comparing them was a hard thing to do. Unlike his modern suite, she had a modest square space with a bed and a bathroom. Rooms in the first floor did not have lightbulbs in the ceiling, presumably since they were older, but the lamplight on her table was enough to work with. There were a couple of appliances too, just nothing extraordinary, like the typewriter she never gave much use.
She sat on her mattress and unpinned her hair, letting her plumage fall over one of her eyes. Lying down and stretching her back, she frowned and grumbled. Alone, at night, there was no one else to please; so she stared at the ceiling while letting her talons rest.
Then it came to mind. Despite her attempts not to respond to provocations, she could not deny she had considered it. She could still feel her chest tighten up after hearing those impassionate, sad words. Their silence had been so loud following after. Not that it made a difference, but there could never have been another woman, she was sure. She simply wished not to be at fault.
As her eyelids grew heavier, she stood up to change clothes. Her shirt had weighted her down by the end of the day, its fabric a little rough against her skin. Full moons were never good; she could not keep her mind clear. Mrs. Lucía wanted her to pretend to be certain, but it was just another possibility, no more significant than any other. It had not been long since she forced herself thoughtlessly into his house. She was not a novice anymore; ignorance was no reason to be tactless with his sorrow.
It would be a disservice to everyone’s efforts, she thought. Her preoccupations lied instead in making their newfound peace last longer, where they had practical use. Could a nasty Manticore share that level of restraint? They would never, and the thought of a wild beast taking on the offer was unpleasant to say the least.
Her tail perked up and she opened her eyes, finding herself hugging her pillow. She had not meant all of that—Kassandra was just tired. She composed herself.
After a quiet sigh, the matter resurfaced. “Suppose his birthday is coming… What should I do?” She knew it was meant to pressure her, but there was a week’s time to find an answer. Could she find the chance to even properly think about it? Their meeting was a more important issue, but she could try. That alone relieved her.
She had confidence they would all pull through; all she had to do was keep her rhythm going. Her job was her heart, and her routine was her soul; it was a given she would do her best. Service was unrelenting, and maybe it had to. She closed her eyes again. She wanted to put her head in order, but before giving it some thought, she fell asleep.
***
When Kassandra woke up, the sun was still missing. She had only slept enough to resent her bed’s softness, and trying to sit up was a tall order. She managed to turn her lamplight on, although her limp body resisted against doing more. Pushing her feathers to the side, she held her forehead in her hands. Her throat was sore; her eyelids were puffy. If she could drag her feet to the basin, a wash would fix her. Work had not overwhelmed her just yet. The week was almost over. It was Thursday already.
Once fully dressed, Kassandra stepped out of her room. She clipped her hair up on her way to the stairs. Every day she made the same trip to her master’s room, but this time it was of special importance for her to do so. Using her key, she walked inside, careful not to wake him up too early.
His suite grew enormous in the dark, and searching could have been troublesome with the number of wardrobes all around. Luckily, she knew what she was looking for was in the one closest to the entrance. She opened the closet and grabbed the outfit he had picked beforehand. With that, she walked back outside and locked the door again.
The hotel had a laundry room for its maintenance, but every client could access it if needed. Kassandra knew the place well. She folded open the ironing board, covering its surface with a dry towel. The iron had been heating up in an electrical outlet by the corridor, and she brought it back when it was ready. She laid the suit jacket on the board and sprinkled a bit of water before pressing the iron against its fabric. He had to be in his best image.
Kassandra looked over to the window with her half-opened eyes as the sun began to rise. Vapor hit directly at her face. Irritating, but it would not take long. She knew she could only smile once she was done with that. Before she even noticed, a week had passed by.
It had been her first few days with her full share of responsibilities, and the work on her plate had multiplied because of the meeting. Even if her master stayed away from the plantations for a little while, the representatives would still be coming for their appointments; their regular schedule could not be neglected. And throughout the weekend, her master and her had to polish a few details for their review, working in his room for most of the day.
Her duties for Saturday and Sunday had been pushed aside. Then they resumed their effort in the office, and there had not been a moment to breathe since Monday. However, Kassandra was glad about Mr. Anon’s and her master’s complete commitment for the entire thing. Only the Monster Lord could imagine how devastated he would have felt coming with nothing to show for himself. She was proud for his growth, having learned the hardships of his profession just the way he intended.
But in exchange, for an entire week, she had not spent much time alone. As the exemplary Kikimora she was, she had been next to her master every passing second, only leaving to fetch him something of need. The completion of their preparations required it, and as the day of presentation came, she put the iron back in its drawer. His suit was smooth and tidy. She grabbed the clothes by the hanger and walked to his room once more.
Kassandra knocked three times. A muffled sound came from the other rise of the door, so she knew she could hang the suit on the knob and return downstairs. She had some time to wait for him, and as she did, she served herself a cup of coffee. Its dusty aroma was something she craved more than anything else at the time. One sip was a warm embrace—it was just what she needed until her master came down.
Having made their way to the office, Mr. Anon took Mr. Forrester with him to Mr. Alcántara’s office. The three had worked in tandem, and most of their work had been contributions to his. The direct link between all of different plantations in the northern side of the country—and the higher ups above—was the Regional Chief Supervisor. It was Mr. Alcántara, a middle manager of sorts.
Kassandra had previously accompanied them when they gathered, but unfortunately, she would not be of much use during their actual meeting. She knew that she was not a formal employee of the Company, and maybe some of the directors could have been impressed by her presence, but it was her place to understand when not to cram the room. Instead, Mr. Forrester told her she could use the rest of the morning to relax now that she could take it easy. She reluctantly agreed.
Following her usual footsteps to the office, Kassandra met one of their coworkers, a man from the resources department. She was surprised, yet did not stumble, and as she bowed and smiled, he greeted her as always.
“Kassie, good morning.”
“Hello, sir. Good morning to you too. I see you are quite early today,” she said. He seemed on his way to their own office, and she did not refrain from walking along the way with him.
“Yes, you noticed. We wanted to see the old men now that we can,” he stopped at the door, taking a look at her. “But how’s everything? How’s Forrester? I saw you guys have been busy all week.”
“Oh, very much as you say, sir. My master…” She paused when he opened the door and walked in, letting her see everyone inside. She repeated her greetings with them. “Excuse me, good morning.”
As everyone waved at her, the man at the door glanced back. “It’s nice seeing you. We’ll collect the money for lunch later, so you can drop by and take it.”
Kassandra turned her head to look at him, but as she agreed with a “I will, mister…” he closed the door. It made her blink. Out in the hallway, she stared at the door, and then shook her head. She had failed to recognize how busy other people were.
Inside their office, she waited in her seat. It felt nostalgic to be left alone in the room while everyone else rushed in their pace. As these thoughts crossed her mind, she heard the unmistakable sound of a motor vehicle, one that most probably had parked in front of the building. She knew her guess was right when a few voices rose from the first floor. They should have been the directors, the Department Heads.
She had seen some of them before, but a couple were still a name without a face to her. They were not frequent around the offices, and she also rarely had any reason to explore the third floor.
A little curious, she just laid back, staring at the room. She had spent the last week knocking herself out with the amount of work reserved for her, but something was left hanging that stopped her from feeling right. There had been no release, no new chord in the tune, she realized the second she sat down.
Therefore, she stood back up. After taking a long look at the room, she knew what she had to do. She was yet to clean up. Of course her morning would not be complete without it.
Kassandra walked outside the office room and through the corridor. She intended going to the janitor’s storage to take the cleaning tools, but stepping down the stairs, her eyes were caught by a man of age and a tall Anubis. She had never once seen either of them. Yet, it was not a surprise when Mrs. Lucía immediately welcomed them in.
“Good morning, Mr. Samayoa! Please, come in!” Lucía was loud as ever, even with a senior man. He half-trembled, half-held himself up with his cane, walking to the stairs. Kassandra moved aside to give him space and bowed down as respectfully as possible. After she did, she noticed the Anubis looked right at her.
“Lucía, I didn’t know we had a Kikimora. How adorable… I hadn’t seen one of them since before the portal days.” She was a dark-skinned lady with large ears standing on her head and plump black paws at the end of each limb. It must have been a secretary—she held a clipboard exactly like the one Kassandra had upstairs.
“It’s not my fault you’ve been a month away! I couldn’t explain everything you’ve missed! Come, Carmencita, I’ll tell you!”
“It doesn’t feel like a month to me,” Carmen sighed sarcastically. She seemed a lot older than both Lucía and Kassandra, by eight years at least. Her outfit was a heavier, darker suit than theirs. “My boss insists I miss every other week to come here, but I wish that were true.”
“Forgive me,” Kassandra approached closer. “I had not presented myself. My name is Kassandra, it is my pleasure.”
“Nice to meet you too, miss” the Anubis smiled. “I’m Carmen, whatever you prefer to call me is fine.”
Lucía slid in between them. “Kassie came just a few days after your last visit, just so you know. She’s working for Mr. Forrester Still.”
Carmen was more than a little shocked by that, though she felt she should not have been. “Oh, I see. Yes, that makes sense.” She gave a few steps forward, almost leaning against Kassandra. “Well, I hope we can keep meeting like this, Kassandra. I’ll be going to the kitchen. Is there any coffee, Lucía?”
“Maybe if you make some there could be,” the receptionist giggled.
“Thank you. I’ll go make some quick before the other directors arrive. I’m sure Mr. Samayoa will also want some.” Carmen covered her mouth before yawning. The bags under her eyes gave away who it really was for.
She had begun to walk away when Kassandra followed behind her. “Wait, miss,” she called her. “I will help you.”
The Anubis faintly smiled and nodded along. She seemed somewhat energized by Kassandra’s good will. It was like she had remembered a fond memory, giving her a look that could have meant “Indeed, this is how you Kikis are, right?”
Inside the narrow kitchen room, Kassie boiled a pot of water on the old wood stove. She filled the cloth sock with a few spoons of coffee, then soaked it in the pot. As the sock dripped in, the coffee began to be filtered into the brew. In just about a minute, it was ready to be served.
“Here you go, Ms. Carmen,” Kassandra handed her a cup. She also poured one out for Mr. Samayoa, so the secretary could take it to her boss.
“Oh, thank you very much.” Carmen carefully held her cup with her front paws. “I’ve been enamored by this country’s coffee ever since I first tasted it. I very much needed it right now.” She took a whiff out of its smoke and blew over the drink.
Kassandra sat down next to her, taking another cup for herself now that there was a chance. She also liked it a lot. It always hit the spot and, with time, had become her favorite drink of all.
“So, you’re a maid?” Carmen asked.
“Oh, no, miss.” Kassandra laughed. It was a little complicated. “I am a secretary, but I did work as one back in America.”
“Yes, I was wondering why you would not wear one of those frilly uniforms you usually have on you,” Ms. Carmen found it equally amusing. “A secretary, huh…? Me too. Although it is weird. I thought I would be the only one here, since they barely ever need me. Are you having a good time?”
“Yes, miss,” Kassandra replied. She could not doubt it. She enjoyed her job, so there should be no reason to say otherwise.
“Well, figures,” Carmen smirked.
“Is there a reason you are not relied upon, Ms. Carmen?”
“It’s just how the company goes, I’m only needed for matters like this one today. Do you usually have plenty of stuff to do?”
“Um…” Kassandra had to bring herself to admit it. “Yes… We have been busy lately, miss.”
“I’m glad,” Carmen sipped from her cup. “It feels like it is I who they keep around ceremoniously… The directors didn’t want me to come when they weren’t here. I had so much free time that I had to get other jobs on the side to not lose my mind. I work as an accountant for a bank and also as a secretary for a Pharaoh in the city. But I guess it’s fine…
“You must understand, I’m sure.” Carmen’s tone lowered as she went on. “You and I know we don’t do it for the pay, after all.” Kassandra felt a knot growing in her throat after those words.
Carmen sipped from her cup once more. “Lord, it really is tasty,” she said. “Thank you.”
“You are welcome, miss,” Kassandra bowed her head, hoping she could help lighten up the mood a little.
“If I could drink coffee like this every day, I think I would turn addicted in no time. It really is that good.” Carmen chuckled, although Kassandra had trouble finding it comical. She had thought the same thing.
Saying goodbye briefly after that, Carmen went upstairs to the third floor and took her boss his cup of coffee. Kassandra returned to the office to finish her duties. She had swept the floor, and while mopping, she rested her chin over the handle, supporting all her upper body. There should have been nothing else missing. She checked around to be sure.
Kassandra had been twenty-two years of age when she was first chosen to become a secretary. Her family had earned the right to work for the Still household, and once the Master saw them fit, her sisters and she were lined up for an evaluation. That was when she was picked for the job.
They said she looked appropriate for the job. They gave her training for her duties. They placed their trust in her. And despite the fact that Kassandra would have complied to any other job given to her, she never doubted being a secretary was her calling. She could be content with it, she thought. With that covered, she knew fate would not be wrong.
Sitting on one of the drawers, carefully set next to the window blinds, a vase took Kassandra’s attention. There were the flowers, who had made the room livelier for a few days and were now beginning to wither. Kassandra came in every morning and noticed they were a tint more yellow than the one before. She could not have known white orchids were not supposed to be watered frequently, but she guessed it had been her mistake. Nonetheless, she could not bring herself to throw them out. She could not do that to Mr. Forrester and Mr. Anon.
She looked over to their empty desks, letting her mind wander. They had worked hard for that day, and she could only imagine the pressure on their backs to finally make it all pay off. When they walked in, that would be the end of it. For a moment, at least; and then to the next thing. Holding that thought, she wanted to take her time some more. She exhaled and raised her head. There was more mopping to do, and the morning was only getting started.
In any case, Anon allowed himself to yawn when the conference was finally over. He sighed at the back of the room, where no one paid him any mind. Mr. Alcántara had held most of the presentation by himself, letting them interject every so often. As usual, none of the directors seem all that invested. They wanted to hear money was still coming the Company’s way, and only then could someone convince them an investment was absolutely necessary. Other than that, their time had passed by in a monologue that extended far longer than it had a right to—nothing but formalities at the end of the day. Ms. Carmen had taken the minutes and reduced all their week’s work into a list of bullet points. It was risible.
Yet Anon was not discouraged; he knew monthly meetings went exactly like that. His intention all along had been to have Mr. Forrester experience the entire course. He took no shortcuts, and all their efforts were spent to complete the assignment from zero. If anything, he hoped his partner would not take the results to heart, but throughout the conference meeting he had to realize how naïve his worries were.
“Very good job, Mr. Still. You’re a fine addition here.” The Department Heads stood up to shake Forrester’s hands. “You better say hello to your father for us when you get the chance.”
The American had been the center of attention all day. Anon hid his face with his hands and almost cried “Why am I not surprised?”.
Mr. Alcántara stayed by his side, appeasing the old men and breaking in when they would overwhelm the young man, but a local like him could hardly keep their interest. When it seemed like Forrester could handle them by himself, he stepped back and walked towards Anon.
“It went well,” he said. “Thank you again, boy.”
“Come on, I did my part and nothing more,” Anon lowered his head. He rested his back against the wall, next to the door. “Mr. Forrester is far more impressive, he’s really good at adapting.”
“Hm… But that means nothing if you don’t make a good use of him.” Mr. Alcántara nudged him with his elbow.
“How could I not? Look at him, he literally asked for it,” Anon smiled a little. He could not fall to his usual self-deprecation as easily as before. If the young man still wanted to work with him after all of that, it had to amount to something.
“Regardless, I know you’ve had a rough time. You can go home early if you want to, just wait for the Heads to leave—we don’t want any misunderstandings…”
Anon laughed. That sort of favoritism was a little more endearing fresh out of a marathon. He glanced at the directors. They had no trouble pretending to be invested or proud in their operation, but they had to pretend if they wanted to win over Mr. Forrester.
“I guess some people do know who they work for…” Anon leaned away from the wall and turned around. “It seems they won’t let him go for a while, so I’ll be waiting in my office for now.” He then waved his hand. “I’ll see you later, sir.”
Mr. Alcántara waved back, a thought refreshing in his memory. “Oh, that’s right. You better don’t miss, today is a good day for celebration.”
Anon nodded. He and Mr. Alcántara parted ways, and his boss went straight back to chatting with his associates. Anon looked back to make sure he could really take leave, and his eyes dropped over Ms. Carmen for a second.
He had to admit he felt obligated to look at her for just a second. He had never given it a second thought, but she was an important member for every meeting. And there she sat quietly, not exchanging a word with anybody. She looked at the windows, waiting to be dismissed until the next time. Not that he was one to talk, but she seemed lonely in a room full of chatter. He was inclined to say something to her, but could not bring himself to. There was nothing for him to say.
Anon pushed the door open. Kassandra sat idly, but she almost bit her tongue when she noticed him. She readily stood up as he stepped inside. “Welcome back, mister. Is everything over now?”
He gave her a gentle look as he passed by. “Oh, yes. Although Mr. Forrester is still a bit busy socializing.”
“I can imagine,” she said. Her eyes followed his stride to the desk. Mr. Anon noticed the files he left in disarray had all been sorted and stacked orderly, which made him turn to her for an instant, but she looked away.
“You could go and see what he’s up to if you’d like,” Anon mentioned.
Kassandra kept her face down. She held her hands together, giving it some thought. It sounded like the appropriate thing to do, so she had to agree. “Yes, maybe I should go.”
Anon took his jacket off, letting it hang from the back of his chair. He sat down and stretched his back. “Also, you can go home after this, so please tell Mr. Forrester if you can.”
“I will…” She felt a knot growing in her throat. “Will you stay here, mister?”
“Me? Well, just for a little more, so it’s ok.”
“I see…” she replied. She could not picture him as someone who would mind being left alone. It did not bother him.
Mr. Anon shrugged his shoulders and gave a deep breath. He rubbed his eyes with the hand he rested his head on. Kassandra stood a few steps away from the door, but the distance was much longer for her. Incapable to turn around, she also found it unforgivable to go away like that without another word.
Through an entire week, Mr. Anon had been by their side at almost all times. They had learned to work together under those circumstances, and never did he lose his patience. It was hard to look behind after he had proved himself repeatedly, and an irking frustration sat on the pit of her stomach. The words did not come out, but she wanted to ask him how he could manage.
She was confused, nothing felt right. For the first time ever what she would rather do was not what she should have, and it was impossible to say it out loud because it would have been misconstrued. No one promised that being reliable would make anyone less lonely.
She could not leave, because she had not done enough yet. She regretted having put it off, and now she wondered aimlessly as it stirred up her head. Probably no one else in the room cared, but she did not forget it was his birthday. The problem was that she had not figured out where that put her, and she was scared to find out.
He looked at the windows with his eyes lost somewhere else. With his white shirt showing, one could really see how lean his build was. At any moment he could be blown away with a light breeze, and yet his arms sat firmly on the table, slightly fidgety. Leaning on his side, he stretched his back. For a man usually walking on the verge of heartbreak, he seemed awfully comfortable in his place.
“Ms. Kassandra,” he called her. Her shoulders raised in shock. She had not expected him to need something else at the time.
Anon had glanced at her and realized she probably wanted to talk. He could tell something was on her mind, so he bit the bullet and spoke first. “It was a stressful week, but we did it at the end.”
“So we did, mister,” she said back. “It was all thanks to you and my master…”
Anon let his arms down, a little worried. “Don’t say that, you did plenty too.”
“I just follow instructions,” she pursed her lips. Her frailty embarrassed her. She could not feel refreshed by clearing the assignment like they surely did. She had not finished anything, and it burned on the back of her hands.
Anon leaned forward and thought for a little. He wanted to force himself to smile, but it came easier than expected. “I’m glad we needed you, then. To think about everything we did, and we’re just as good as our secretary…”
Her cheeks turned red when she picked up her gaze and turned to him. His words were kind, and they rung in her ears. With her heart beating loudly against her chest, she could not help herself from smiling back.
Anon knew she wanted to be humble, but he more than anyone else understood himself lucky. He was fortunate to work with her, he was fortunate to even glance at her and speak to her, never mind asking for her helping hand. Not many could boast about having a secretary, so he could not take her for granted—the privilege was not his rightful merit or the like. The reason she was there was obvious. Mr. Forrester had shared the opportunity with him; and it was depressing to think that it would end sooner rather than later, but Anon did not lament it right then.
He had to enjoy his chance to catch a glimpse of her while he could. He would never think of his role as a burden if that was the closest they could ever be. That is how he made peace with going in circles. Perhaps Mr. Alcántara would understand.
Kassandra noticed his calm and composure. They had had a tight schedule recently, and maybe even he could appear as laid back after all of that. His fingers brushed the hard wood of his table, playing with a paperclip; but his eyes were on her, and she blushed fervently.
“Things have been so much easier since you’ve been here, so please keep the good work.” Saying it out loud, he was glad to insist when he could. His enthusiasm was too earnest not to notice, and it unknowingly managed to spark some faith back in her. It reminded her of why she liked her job in the first place. Deep down, it was all self-interest.
Kassandra could still not suppress her smile. She was embarrassed thinking Mr. Anon would be able to read her thoughts from across the room. And he, however, became transfixed in the way her tail wagged around, dropping tiny feathers on the floor. He was just learning Kikimoras could do something like that.
The shortly lived silence tensed the two of them. Kassandra almost wobbled, having no idea what to say after that beyond “I will, mister”. The hardest part of all was looking at Mr. Anon’s face at what must have been a humiliating display of stuttering from her. He took a tight hold of his own arm, pushing his eyes down. A smile from his became a conflicted sigh, as if trying to fight his own nervousness.
“Mr. Anon,” she then said. Holidays, weekends, birthdays; she had no idea what people usually did in them, but Kassandra realized there had been no point in worrying. She could awkwardly leave the office after wishing him a happy birthday; nonetheless, to do so would have been a waste. “Have you had a good day so far?”
Anon looked at her again and answered. “I mean, it’s been good, yes. I think it’s enough like this.”
“If you would like that,” she brought herself to say, “I could do anything you ask me to. Just for today, that is.”
Kikimoras were not meant to be the assertive type. All her nerves were stomped by how out of field she was, but she endured it with a red face. Anon had been left speechless as well. He clenched his fist—she saw—and slowly opened his mouth.
“Are you going to be free tonight? For dinner,” Anon proposed.
Kassandra’s eyes widened. He had said it, but it took a second before she registered it as a question. She brought her hand to her chest and thought about it, regrettably sorry to have to pin them against—she had to take her fulltime job into consideration as well. “I would want to, but I could not leave my master unattended…”
Anon did not react. “Yes, I mean, the two of you. I was meant to go with Mr. Alcántara tonight… but I realize I can invite you as well.” He then understood the confusion and covered his flustered face. He shook his head slightly; he had intended to look cool. “I will pay for your meals, I should have thought about this before. Take it as a reward for your work.”
Kassandra gasped. “I understand. I will inform my master of your invitation.” Her eyes drifted to the side, giggling quietly. Mr. Anon sat attentively, he almost pleaded to know if they would go. If she had been closer, she would have liked to stroke his hair with her fingers. “Please expect us for now, mister.” The words rolled out of her tongue like sweet candy.
And entrapped by her voice, he released his breath with a shy smile. “I—I will.”
Kassandra bowed with a pristine musicality. Before she turned away to leave, her eyes lingered on his for some more. “Happy birthday, mister.”
He was shaken. His face turned hesitant, before forcing back his smile. “What…? Who told you…?”
“Mrs. Lucía let me know,” she said.
“I see… Well, thank you. It means a lot.” His heartbeat grew heavier.
“We will see you later, mister. Take care.” She bowed once more and walked to the door.
Kassandra turned around before closing, holding her excitement down. Mr. Anon had returned to his thoughts, and she admired him from outside. She wondered what could have been in his mind. Although she would have been disappointed to hear it was only guilt.
