Boston's Man-Eater

IX

Driving up to the Salander House proved to be highly apprehensive.

What does she want to see me for? I thought as I parked and checked my reflection.

My hair was unforgivably rumpled up, eyes overwrought with nerves.

Quickly exiting the car, I made my way through the glass doors as the smiling receptionist picked up the telephone.

And when I strode towards her, she quickly waved me off and pointed at the elevator.

Oh?

Once again, the unfamiliar faces threw flirtatious looks my way, and I nodded politely before disappearing inside.

Unfortunately, this time I was stuck in the midst of a chattering bevy that made me anxious as fuck.

FUCK!

"Hey there," one of them purred, twirling her hair between her fingers.

"Hi," I smiled as she looked me up and down.

Jeez.

"What brings you here?"

"Here to see Miss Salander." —The whole crew fell silent.

"What?"

"You're here to see Tess?" She chuckled, and I felt creases form on my forehead.

"Yeah, why does that surprise you?"

"Tess and visitors—that's an extremely rare sight. In fact, you'll be lucky enough to see her twice, but here you are."

"Is that so?"

What are you up to, Miss Tess?

"Good luck," she winked, and they stepped out of the elevator, leaving me alone for the rest of the ride.

Phew!

Here I was, the fifteenth/ sixteenth floor which led to Tess' seventeenth floor, but they still insisted on calling it the fifteenth floor.

Such weird people...

As soon as Zoe took note of my presence, she stood from her desk and gestured for me to enter.

Today, she had a red dress that hugged her body like second skin and red stilettos.

Maybe...Who am I kidding?

"Hello Kyle," she smiled.

"Hey Zoe."

"This way," she said, and we ascended the granite stairs.

When she peered into Tess' office, she looked back to me with an apologetic look on her face, which clearly informed me that I had somehow fucked up.

Oh God, Oh God!

Frantic thoughts swam in my mind as the door shut behind me, and like before, her seat was facing the window.

It's either she liked looking at the picturesque scenery of the skyline, or she was just dramatic.

I chose the latter.

"Take a seat, Keith," she said quietly, and my feet involuntarily moved towards one of the black leather chairs.

"Hello, Miss Salander."

She slowly turned around with the day's issue of the Boston Independent in her hands.

Shit.