Two days were spent on revisions. I rewrote the contract down to the commas, checked the schedules, worked out the details. The auctions had already started, and there was still no official representative.
Each step brought new clarifications. I sent updates to Ostin one after another. By the third email, he stopped replying.
By the fifth, he simply forwarded me to Theron.
To be honest, I wanted to interact with Theron as little as possible.
I knew that wasn't realistic, but I still wanted it.
Sometimes it seemed like the people around him didn't like my work. Especially how precisely I executed his orders. No distortions, no questions. I just did them.
The exception was Ostin. He was one of those too. He kept his distance, he followed through. Always alone. Like me.
Everything about this company was strange. From the work processes to the personal connections. Theron's relationship with his ex. With his brother. With his current partner.
Some of it I could understand. The rest—I didn't even want to try making sense of.
And if we're being honest—Drunken sex on my desk yeah, we could cross that one off too. As well as his brother's torture. Perks of the corporate culture, apparently.
I walked into reception. Hilda was typing. Calm, focused. The same distant type as Ostin. Or me.
Not many like that here.
Why was I even thinking about this?
I tried to throw all unnecessary thoughts out of my head.
Who sleeps with whom—none of my business. A waste of resources. I needed to stay focused.
Work was the only thing worth spending energy on.
If I could survive here for at least two years, I could pay for everything.
Maybe even open something of my own. Or simply stop working for other people.
Though… I wasn't sure I even knew how to do nothing.
Hilda nodded. Silently.
"May I come in? Ostin sent me for confirmation of the official version of the contract," I said, showing the folder in my hands.
Hilda picked up the phone and dialed somewhere. Apparently, she got through to Theron. A few seconds later, she nodded: he had no objections.
I entered his office. Spacious, already familiar down to the smallest details.
He was sitting at his desk, reading something intently. Attentively. He didn't notice me. Or pretended not to.
I came closer and stopped in front of him. I waited. I didn't interrupt—if he was busy, let him finish. Disrupting his focus would be unnecessary.
I had already been standing for five minutes.
He saw me. That was obvious. But he kept reading. He wouldn't let go of the document.
Out of boredom, I started examining the desk. Folders. Three of them.
Port: Mexico.
Phoenix.
And one with the initials M.E.
Mine.
He was looking into me again. Apparently, he hadn't dug deep the first time. Now he decided to get to the bottom of it.
"Show me," he said. Calmly, almost distantly. He reached out his hand but still didn't lift his eyes.
Theron began reading the contract.
Then he called someone and invited them into the office. I only hoped it wasn't Liana. I had a feeling I was already developing an allergy to her.
"Sit," he ordered again.
I sat silently.
For the money he pays me, I could stand in front of his desk all day.
He returned to his documents. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye.
Focused. All internal mechanisms were working, and it was clear—he was genuinely concerned about something.
His jaw would tense from time to time.
His lips were pressed into a thin line.
Beautiful lips.
I remembered how, back then, I wanted to know what they were really like. Now I knew.
The thought made me shiver.
Sitting here and staring at him wasn't the best idea right now.
He looked like a typical boss from a women's romance novel. "He's a billionaire. I'm the plain girl. And of course, he falls in love. Hopelessly."
In reality, he could just kill you.
I wonder why women even dream about someone rich and handsome.
Handsome means constant competition with others.
Wealth means responsibility and pressure.
Life with a guy like that would bring more headaches than life with an ordinary office worker.
Yes, maybe boring. But peaceful.
Though nowadays, even the faithful are rare.
Thoughts of exes surfaced suddenly, like a flash. I immediately shoved them out of my head and stared out the window.
New York beyond the glass looked indifferent. And there was a certain comfort in that.
After some time, a man appeared.
I recognized him from the previous company. He was Theron's lawyer.
He silently read the entire contract. Attentively. Then he nodded. Approved.
"Ask Hilda to make copies. In two days, you'll present it at the party."
I stood up as if I had been nailed to the floor.
"Me?" I repeated.
"Yes. You're the one who prepared it."
"I'm not a public figure. I think Liana can handle it," I brushed it off.
At that moment, he was already looking straight at me. Calmly, but directly.
"You managed to do in a couple of days what she couldn't fix in a year. Do You think she won't mess it up?"
He leaned back in his chair and kept looking. Waiting.
I wanted to say a lot about his blind loyalty to Liana. But there was no point.
"You confirm this is the final version of the contract? This is the one that will be signed?"
"Yes," he replied, with a slight note of suspicion.
I took the ultraviolet seal from my pocket. Stamped every page. Just like before.
"I'll talk to Travis. I'll explain the situation."
I didn't want to be in public. Especially now—with this body.
"One thing. Ask Liana to behave professionally. Not like an arrogant bitch. Our partners are not obligated to tolerate it."
I noticed a smile appear at the corners of Theron's mouth.
"All right," he said.
"Am I dismissed?"
"Yes," he confirmed. Still with that smile. Still with that look.
I walked out. Without looking back. The smile was too captivating.
I made the copies. Certified them with my seal.
Then I headed to Ostin.
After knocking, Ostin allowed me to enter.
As soon as I appeared, something flickered across his face. Seemed like I was already getting on his nerves.
"I need to meet with Travis. Can you set up a meeting?" I asked calmly.
"My entire schedule is packed. Because of the upcoming event," he said. He didn't even try to hide his annoyance.
"I just need a couple of minutes. I've already informed Theron," I clarified immediately.
Ostin looked at me with suspicion.
But after another message on his phone, he finally agreed.
"I'll schedule the meeting for this evening. Same restaurant," he said and returned to his tasks.
Having gotten what I needed, I returned to the papers.
I counted, sorted, checked expenses and revenues. Everything looked normal. No failures. No obvious issues.
Yes, there were inconsistencies. Fewer expenses than income. But within the acceptable margin.
Strange that Theron even assigned this to me over such minor theft.
And the reaction from management was strange too.
Maybe I was just looking at it from the wrong side?
Though I was doing exactly what I'd been told. No more, no less.
14:34 — "At 18:00, same restaurant, table under Travis's name"
Until the appointed time, I kept going through the documents again and again. Counting, writing things down, double-checking. Now my attention was focused on every detail.
A reminder at 17:00 tore me away from the desk. I grabbed both contracts, ordered a taxi, and headed to the restaurant for the meeting. Considering the rush hour and traffic, I got there in about an hour. The restaurant itself was nearby, and walking would have been easier, but the cold wind killed any desire—my nose froze the moment I stepped outside and immediately turned red.
"Hello. I have an appointment with Mr. Travis Dott," I said to the hostess.
She gave me a once-over, and her face twisted in disapproval.
"I think you're mistaken," she replied without even glancing at the list. "If you're a fan, you can't just show up and expect to meet him. I think you'd better leave."
Brilliant. Last time I came with Ostin, and no one questioned anything. Now, apparently, I didn't look expensive enough for this place.
"You misunderstood. I'm a representative of VECS. We have a business meeting," I showed her the contract.
"Miss, what kind of business could you possibly have with Mr. Travis? Don't lie," she leaned closer and lowered her voice to a hiss. "Just leave."
Silently, I pulled out my badge and showed it.
"I work for Mr. Vescari. Or should I notify him that a VECS employee is being denied entry to a scheduled meeting?"
"Incredible. Now fans are trying to scare staff with names," she smirked. "I'm calling the manager. She'll sort this out quickly."
I put the badge back in my bag and waited.
A minute later, a woman in her forties with a model's appearance approached—clearly the manager. Calm, composed.
"Is there a problem?" she asked, addressing me.
I didn't even get a word in before the hostess jumped in first.
"She claims she has a business meeting with Mr. Dott. Another fan. And says she works for Theron," she reported, wearing the expression of a wronged diva.
"May I have your name?" the manager asked calmly and checked the list.
"Mirey Ellis," I said. And behind me, a familiar voice sounded. Male. Cold and displeased.
I turned around. Theron was standing directly behind me.
With him was Amy. His fiancée. Perfect, as always. Flawless look, perfect posture, custom coat. She was holding his arm like a princess. And Theron was just as composed next to her.
I saw the shock spread across the hostess's face.
"Is there some problem with my representative?" Theron asked, stepping closer.
It was impossible to tell whether he was irritated or not. His cold tone always sounded the same.
"We apologize, Mr. Vescari. It's just that lately there have been increasing incidents of people sneaking into venues under false names. We just wanted to confirm," the manager began to explain.
Unlike her subordinate, she was smarter. And she knew how to frame the situation without making herself look like a fool.
"Escort her to Mr. Travis," Theron said. Then he turned to Amy. "I'll step away for a bit. You can order without me."
I didn't stay to listen any further and followed the manager.
Travis was sitting almost at the very end of the hall. Alone. The manager wasn't with him. I began to look around and immediately saw Theron heading our way.
Damn. What was he even doing?
"Hi," Travis said. He looked pleased, even stood up to help me sit, pulled out the chair. But his expression changed sharply when he saw Theron.
"Didn't expect to see you here, Mr. Theron. I thought you only sent Mirey," his tone grew rougher.
"Hi, Travis. I decided to join. I just want to personally make sure everything is in order. I'd rather not have anything fall apart again two days before the event," Theron smiled and sat down next to me. Without invitation.
We all took our seats. Travis handed me the menu — apparently placed there specifically for my arrival. Theron also called the waiter and placed an order: a glass of whiskey and a dish with a name I didn't recognize.
He seriously intended to stay here while Amy sat waiting for him at another table?
I leaned toward him and said quietly, almost in a whisper:
"You don't have to be here. I'll handle everything properly. The deal won't fall through. You should go back to your companion."
I said it, but almost immediately realized I'd crossed a line.
Judging by Theron's look, he clearly wasn't pleased.
I sat up straight and calmly ordered a glass of wine.
"Wine again?" Travis asked. "That won't do. It's already evening, and you clearly haven't had dinner. Bring her the salmon steak."
He looked at the waiter, not asking my opinion.
"It's a universal dish. I think it'll suit you."
"Thank you, but that wasn't necessary," I noted.
Theron's presence continued to weigh on me, so I decided to get to the point.
"I brought the final version of the contract that will be signed at the Royal Hall," I said, handing the document to Travis.
He took the folder and began to read.
Theron watched silently, but not for long.
"It would be better if your manager also reviewed the text," he said, emphasizing his absence.
"After negotiating with Miss Mirey, we've established a trusting atmosphere," Travis replied calmly, closing the contract. "This version suits us completely. I'll be happy to sign it."
He shifted his gaze to me.
"Mirey did a great job. And it's not just about the contract, but the sense of trust toward your company, Mr. Vescari."
Now his gaze moved to Theron. It was entirely different now — hard.
"Your company already has a reputation as a mafia offshoot. And the staff you used to send only reinforced that."
"What do you mean?" Theron's voice became quieter. Dangerously quieter.
I knew that tone. That was the tone the beast was starting to stir.
"Nothing of the sort," I interrupted. "Just that the methods used before didn't suit Travis. I'm glad we managed to build a working and trusting relationship."
I took back the contract and retrieved a different ultraviolet seal. I marked every page.
The orders arrived.
"There's only one thing I'd like to discuss — the presentation of the contract," I said. The topic was slippery, the tension in the air rising. But better to address it now than run into trouble on the day of the event.
"Miss Liana will handle it."
"No. Why her?" Travis objected sharply.
"I'm sorry. I'm not a public person and don't seek to be one. Miss Liana is a more suitable candidate. She knows how to behave in public. Better than I do."
"But it's your contract. Your work," he persisted.
"I just execute tasks. And my task is to solve problems. I'll be present at the event, but in the role of a regular VECS employee."
"Then I suggest you be my date that day," Travis suddenly said, insistent now.
"I don't think you understood what she meant," Theron cut in. His voice was sharp, almost predatory. "Her job is to remain invisible. That's why she refused to present the contract. And you want to put her on display."
He downed his entire glass of whiskey in one gulp.
"I think we should hear the answer from Mirey," Travis wouldn't back down.
"Excuse me," I stepped in. "But I really don't want to draw attention to myself. Especially when there are so many envious people ready to twist everything. I prefer quiet. Both in work and in life."
"All right," Travis relented. "But one condition."
"I'm listening," I tensed.
"You must be there. And make sure everything goes according to plan."
"Of course. I'll oversee everything. That's perfectly doable."
I could feel the tension in Theron beginning to ease. At that moment, his phone rang.
"Excuse me. I have to go," he said, rising. He glanced around, clearly searching for Amy. "The driver will take you home after," he addressed me. "See you in two days," he added briefly to Travis and left.
Driver? What was that about? Why?
"Is he always that direct and cold?" Travis asked.
"To be honest, I don't know. We're not close. I'm just an employee doing my job," I shrugged.
I didn't turn or follow Theron with my eyes. I just returned to the salmon steak.
I needed to eat quickly and be free.
We had dinner, chatting about little things. Travis told me how fame hit him after his debut film. But his real dream had always been singing.
He admitted that he became popular mostly thanks to the affections of older women. Odd, but he accepted it as it was. And was grateful.
He walked me to the exit. There, we ran into that same hostess again. Her eyes were full of envy, and her mouth tightened with disappointment.
The air outside was cool, the breeze immediately hit my face.
"You seem like a good person. Why are you working for Vescari?" Travis asked. The question came unexpectedly. Like the gust of wind.
"I don't understand what you mean," I smiled faintly, but quickly composed myself. "I don't do anything wrong. And I get paid a lot," I added, looking at him.
He stepped closer, shielding me from the wind. His coat brushed against mine.
"And if I paid more, would you work for me?" he asked softly, leaning in.
"Sorry, but for now you can't afford it," I said quietly, trying not to offend. "Theron pays me very well."
"Then I'll become richer than him and hire you. Deal?" Travis looked straight into my eyes. Too directly. He clearly liked it.
"All right," I smiled faintly in return.
"Miss Mirey, Mr. Theron asked that I drive you," one of his drivers interrupted us.
I turned and nodded.
"Then thank you for the lovely cooperation," Travis took a step back and extended his hand for a handshake.
I shook it. His hand was warm.
In the next instant, he abruptly pulled me toward him. With his other arm, he caught me around the waist so I wouldn't fall.
"See you in two days," he said, and smiled brightly. Too brightly for an autumn evening.
I stepped back. He didn't hold me.
"See you," I said shortly and followed the driver.
That guy… Was he really trying to flirt with me?
Something unnecessary again trying to push its way into my life.
The next day everything was quiet.
In the evening I was once again racking my brain over what to wear to the event. The guest list spoke for itself — I had to look the part.
The gray suit was immediately out. Too plain. The black one looked like a waitress uniform, and I could easily be mistaken for the staff.
My thoughts were interrupted by a message from Theron.
20:45 — "Come tomorrow in a formal suit. No dresses."
What didn't he like about my dress last time? Well, fine by me.
Although inside I was boiling. What the hell was wrong with that dress? Damn dictator.
I took out one of my last black suits and a bleached shirt. Somewhere I even had a tie lying around. I wondered if that would be over the top or just right.
I arrived at the event early, as did the entire staff. Ostin gave the order: to monitor the location where the signing would take place, prepare the contract, and double-check every detail. I checked the pens, the table setup, the decorations. Everything was on schedule. While I was handling the details, a notification came in — almost all the guests had arrived. Including Theron and Travis.
But I was so busy I didn't even get the chance to greet them. While I was setting up the last nameplates, the hall had already begun to fill. I kept an eye on the time, not to miss the contract moment.
"Bring us some champagne," a familiar poisonous voice called to me. I turned. Liana. Travis was standing next to her.
"Mirey," he greeted me cheerfully. "I've been looking for you everywhere."
"Sorry, there were a lot of organizational issues. I was helping."
"Champagne," Liana reminded me. "And you can bring the contracts now too."
Her tone was commanding. She was clearly playing the boss in front of an audience. Should I make a scene or just ignore her like usual? The latter was always more reliable with her.
"Have you already seen Theron?" I asked Travis, deliberately ignoring her.
"Didn't you hear me?" Liana exclaimed.
"Yes, he already greeted me," Travis picked up, catching my drift.
"Are you deaf? Or do you want trouble again?" Liana no longer held back.
Everything suddenly went quiet when Theron appeared in the hall. Amy was beside him. He immediately spotted us and looked directly our way. I couldn't afford to ruin anything now.
"I'll go check the signing setup," I said calmly and walked to the stage near the screen.
In the staff room, I found my bag and checked the contract one more time. I turned on the flashlight and inspected all the seals. Everything was in place. No swap. I had kept the contract on me, and I wasn't going to let Liana spoil or sabotage it. I had almost failed the first task, but this one I wouldn't let anyone ruin.
I sat at the table with the lawyers and other legal representatives invited to the event. Most of them were buried in their phones, ignoring the noise around them.
The host began the welcome speech — the official part had started. I handed the contract to Theron's lawyer. He went to the signing table along with Travis's manager. Travis himself was looking at me. So was Theron. And it was starting to get on my nerves.
I had just gotten out of one problem involving his brother. And now — flirting from one, supervision from the other.
Too early to think things had calmed down.
Fortunately, the rest of the event went according to plan. Liana spoke on behalf of the company. She presented the auctions, the promo videos, banners with Travis — and everything else I had no interest in. I just sat and drank wine. Again. And I remembered the last time. Also wine. Also an event. And that same evening when it all ended with sex with Theron in my office.
I glanced at him. He and Amy were chatting pleasantly with some important-looking people, more like politicians. And then he looked in my direction. Our eyes met. Even with her beside him, he was looking at me. That whole scene came flooding back. Heat burned through my veins.
Damn. This was bad.
22:44 — "I'm going home. My part is done."
I wrote to Ostin and started gathering my things.
While I was packing up, I caught Travis looking at me. But he was busy. And really, what was there left for us to talk about?
Once I got confirmation from Ostin, I headed for the exit. The autumn air was pleasantly refreshing after all that wine.
"Miss Mirey. Mr. Theron asked me to take you home," again one of Vescari's drivers. Just like last time.
What was this new habit of his — sending me drivers?
"I can get home on my own. Tell him it's unnecessary," I said and walked in the other direction.
He stepped into my path.
"This is not up for discussion. Please just follow instructions. If you need to stop somewhere, let me know."
"All right. Home," I nodded.
Honestly, I was so tired I'd leave this conversation for tomorrow. Or the day after. At the office.
By the time we were heading home, traffic had nearly cleared, and I was even glad when I finally got out of that car with surveillance. But just as I was approaching the building entrance, someone grabbed me by the shoulder and spun me around sharply.
Dave. Theron's brother.
"Well, are you happy now, bitch?" he snarled, gripping my arm. "Theron's cut me out of everything. You got what you wanted."
I tried to pull away, but his grip was too strong.
"I know it was you, you bitch, who betrayed us. And got rid of me too. You're not the simple girl you pretend to be."
"Dave," the driver intervened. He stepped closer, and Dave immediately let go of me. "You were told not to come near her."
So that's why Theron had been sending drivers. Because of his rabid brother.
"You ruined it all with your own hands," I said as coldly as possible. "And there's no point blaming me."
"You destroyed everything, bitch. I'll kill you," his voice broke into a shout.
The bodyguard stepped toward Dave.
"Fine," I said calmly. "Come by anytime. I won't even lock the door."
I threw it out flatly and walked toward the entrance.
"I swear, I'll kill you!"
Those words rang out behind me just before the door shut behind me.