CHAPTER 1
Once more, Ava Thompson was running late. Her plans were of no concern to the Monday morning sun. It stabbed her square in the eyes and blasted through her window blinds as if it had a personal grudge against her.
Her brain did what it loved which was reminding her that she had obligations and she rolled over with a moan. 8:42 AM blinked back at her from her cracked phone screen.
"Shit!" she exclaimed, leaping to her feet as if she had been tasered. Wallace & Grey Consulting meeting on Monday with Mr. Wallace was enough to make her appear at the office.
She had precisely eighteen minutes to change from a drowsy gremlin to a productive professional. This was asking for a miracle, since she could hardly find two matching socks.
She stumbled over her blazer from yesterday as she scrambled off the mattress. Had she ironed her blouse? It was only partially buttoned from last night but there was not enough time to check.
Her hair looked like a bird's nest, her lipstick was faint like a survivor of a war crime, and her mascara was smudged at the corners of her eyes.
She winced after taking a quick look in the cracked mirror. She muttered, "No time for beauty pageants," and pulled her hair into an untidy bun that could pass for abstract art.
She put on heels that felt like medieval torture devices, brushed her teeth at breakneck speed, and silently prayed to the gods of grace, caffeine, and punctuality.
The Uber ride was a nightmare of angry horns and red lights. Sitting in the backseat, Ava muttered affirmations aloud while holding her bag tightly like a lifeline. "That girl is still you, that girl is still you. You're simply... late."
It buzzed on her phone, her closest friend and co-conspirator, Lena, had texted: "Wallace is furious already, take a seat far away and blend in."
Ava groaned because she had already passed away. Outside the skyscraper, the Uber screeched to a stop. It was 9:01 a.m which was one minute late technically but an entire lifetime behind schedule emotionally.
She ran like her life depended on it through the marble floored lobby, avoiding a man carrying a briefcase and almost running into the coffee-carrying receptionist.
She bolted into the elevator with her heels clacking like gunfire. Ava took a deep breath on the 10th floor, pulled her blazer tighter, and strode over to the conference room.
It was the mode of survival when the room froze for a moment as she pushed the door open.
With casualness, she slid into the chair next to Lena and opened her laptop as though she had been there since dawn.
Mr. Wallace didn't even look at her which was even worse. This implied that the punishment would be meted out later, discreetly, brutally and surgically.
"You appear to have engaged in combat with a raccoon." Lena leaned in and asked Ava with a serious expression on her face because it appeared as though she had actually engaged in combat with a raccoon.
Ava whispered back, adjusting her bun and attempting to do her edges, "Raccoon won."
She looked around the space and It was then that she became aware of him.
He worked somehow, despite the new face, back row, black polo, faded jeans or perhaps its color, and tousled hair as if he hadn't bothered.
He wasn't using a keyboard, he was not even acting like he was taking notes but he was merely observing. She squinted as she tried to figure out who he was and what was happening.
The voice of Mr. Wallace pierced the atmosphere. "We have a temporary guest joining us before we start, Logan Blake is this person. For several months, he will be watching operations and he should be treated just like any other team member." He said.
"Observer? What is this, a reality show?" Ava muttered a hiss. Ava would always make Lena laugh and get her into trouble, so she bit her lip to contain her laughter.
Logan remained silent and looked around the room slowly detached but intent as if he were cataloging details that no one else could see.
For a brief moment, his gaze locked with Ava's, there was no nod or smirk, only quiet curiosity then he averted his gaze, which raised serious suspicions.
He could be the CEO's nephew with an excessive amount of free time or a corporate spy dispatched to determine who should be fired and Ava was allergic to them in any case.
Her phone began to buzz once more by the end of the meeting. It was Lena who bent closer and asked Ava. "So, First impressions?"
Ava rolled her eyes and responded quietly. "He looks like he owns exactly three shirts and one personality, so I'm giving him two weeks at most."
"Cold," Lena smiled and muttered.
When it came to criticism, Ava was very harsh.
"Real," Ava shot back, slinging her bag over her shoulder and maintaining her position.
As they passed glass offices, Ava hoped Wallace hadn't called her yet.
She caught a glimpse of Logan from the corner of her eye. This time, he was at the water cooler, watching and remaining silent while sipping slowly as if he had all the time in the world.
Her voice trailed off. "You see? Lurking like a shadow already. He's providing undercover police."
"Or, you know... A normal guy drinking water." Lena teased.
"No, that man is scheming and he seems to know secrets based on the way he stands." Ava argued.
Lena laughed and said to her. "Girl, not everything is a Netflix drama."
Ava wasn't persuaded, though because there was something strange about Logan.
He was not harmful and not menacing but he left a trace and blended in flawlessly. No one saw the man in the corner, but everyone saw him.
Nevertheless, she dismissed the idea because she had more pressing issues, such as the impending Wallace Lecture.
She turned on her desktop at her desk and attempted to drown emails. Her thoughts kept returning to Logan, who was silently observing. He was not even trying to fit in, and also not making a statement.
She muttered, "Weird, Very weird."
Logan Blake had no intention of becoming friends. He wasn't a coffee fetcher, he wasn't an intern and he wasn't a bored nephew.
His silence was a tactic and not a sign of shyness and every move he made within that structure was part of a deliberate plan.