Page 3 of After Effect

What was that supposed to mean? I ignored the provocation, and kept my expression steady. “And you?”

The man laughed. Though it was laugh void of humor. “Don’t get too comfortable.”

The elevator chimed, and the secretary nodded to him as he stepped onto the 29th floor. “Good morning, Mr. Baek.” She smiled politely. She continued speaking, but her voice seemed distant in my ears.

Christian Baek. Founder and CEO of ALIVE. At thirty-two years old, he was one of the youngest billionaires in the country, though there were always rumors in the tabloids that his means weren’t entirely legal. I couldn’t say if I was more star struck or intimidated.

The elevator door started to close, snapping me out of my daze. I shot a hand for the door jam on instinct, completely forgetting I was holding enough caffeine to give an elephant a heart attack.

Shit shit shit! Coffee cups tumbled to the floor, bursting on impact, spraying mocha, whipped cream, and chocolate sauce all over the carpet as I stumbled into the room. I watched in horror as that dark brown syrup flew through the air, practically in slow motion, landing on the toe of Christian Baek’s ten thousand dollar shoes.

I stood, frozen, mortified, embarrassed, and ready to be fired on my first day. The secretary’s eyes shot back and forth between us, about ready to cry on my behalf. Baek held my eyes captive with a deadly glare that bore right through me.

Then his lips curled in a smile. “Get this taken care of, immediately.” He didn’t take his eyes off me even as he spoke to the secretary. “Take it out of his paycheck.”

“He’s only an intern.” She responded through a shaky voice. “He doesn’t-“

“No problem.” I interrupted. New or not, I wouldn’t allow someone else to defend me. I couldn’t show him that kind of weakness. “Send me the invoice, and take my paychecks until it’s paid off. I’ll cover all of it.”

We stared each other down. The tension in the air was nearly suffocating.

“Very well then.” Baek nodded. Without another word, he walked away. I let out the breath that had puffed up my chest just enough to feel tough, and sunk into my own embarrassment. “I’m gonna go clean up.” I spoke to the secretary under my shame, and side stepped into the rest room.

As I rung out my formerly white shirt in the bathroom sink, I stared at my own reflection in the mirror. There were traces of sugary cream in my otherwise brown hair, hanging about my face, caramel stuck to the frame of my glasses, and my blue eyes looked nearly gray as the light and excitement had been ripped out of them.

Day one and I’ve already basically signed up to be a free slave.

I let out a sigh and hauled my shirt over to the hand drier to try to make it wearable. I still had some gophering to do. I’m sure it would dry out in no time under that hot Los Angeles sun. Maybe I could just avoid Baek until I figured it out.

A week later, I sat down at my desk, and sure enough, I had the invoice in my inbox. $10,563.28. $10,000 for a new pair of shoes, $500 for the cleaning bill, and $63.28 for the spilled coffee. Petty. At $10 an hour, working 20 hours a week, after taxes… that should be paid off in… a couple years. Maybe I need to figure out how to come up with that smash hit even sooner…

I didn’t even get to finish groaning, when I felt a cold hand tap the shoulder of my blazer.

“My office. Now.” Christian Baek spoke softly. He continued walking, never even giving me a passing glance as he laid out his commands. I got up and followed, hoping he wouldn’t pick up on how shaken I was.

Baek had a natural quick step, forcing me to increase my stride just to keep up. He was my same height, at some six feet tall, but his legs were a touch longer. He walked into his office, and took a seat at a sleek mahogany desk. A large window took up the entire back wall, giving an unfettered view of Downtown LA, while shelves covered in awards and records lined the walls.

“Close the door.” It seemed that he always spoke in commands. Never questions. Never requests. His words were absolute, and you’d be a fool to argue with them. Something about his demeanor seemed more the type to rule by fear than respect though. He leaned back in his chair and eyed me carefully. “How are you liking it here so far, Corbin?”

What the hell? Is he trying to get to know me? I couldn’t afford to hesitate in front of him. “Everyone has been very nice. I’m eager to start learning how this business works from the inside.” I wasn’t about to remind him of last week’s incident. I’d rather cage the elephant in the the room for as long as I could.

“What a generic answer.” Baek stared at his finger nails, a look of disinterest plastered all over his face. “How do you really feel?”

Do you really want to know?

“All I’ve done since I got here is run errands. It’s a job for an idiot.” I blurted out without further hesitation. Maybe that was too blunt, but he did ask me how I felt. Too late to take it back. May as well commit.If he couldn’t take an honest answer, he didn’t deserve my respect, anyway. I cocked my chin, and held eye contact. “You’re wasting a valuable resource.”

Baek stared at me for a few moments, clearly dumbstruck. Then... he laughed. “Arrogant. But I can work with arrogant better than meek. Which is good, because I suspect you’re going to be my gopher for a long time.”

My expression flattened, trying not to focus on the cleaning bill that was looming over my head. “Making it right is more important to me than a paycheck.”

“Spoken like someone who has never wanted for anything.” He laughed again, though it was more mocking this time. I swallowed down my irritation. “What kind of resource do you think you are, exactly?”

“I’m a writer. I’ve won competitions on both local and national levels for songwriting and poetry throughout my school career, and I know how to write music.” I spoke with authority to try to undermine his doubts.

“So you’re the biggest guppy in the koi pond.” He continued to look at his fingernails. Annoying.

“I’m a shark that’s ready to break the glass on the aquarium.”

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