Page 39 of Prey

Her eyes flicked about behind those large glasses, and I couldn’t tell if she was reflecting on those wise words. Then she screwed her face up and asked. “What’s a bushel?”

“Um…I always thought it was an old word for bush. Well, that’s how I interpreted it. You know, don’t hide your good qualities from other people. Let them see how wonderful you are,” I explained as best I could, but judging by the expression on her face, she wasn’t impressed.

She scrolled on it briefly before saying, “Bushel isa measure of capacity equal to 64 USpints(equivalent to 35.2liters), used for dry goods.”

“Is it?” I exclaimed, confused. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“That’s random and perplexing,” I replied. “Made more sense if it was a flowering bush or shrub.”

She shrugged. “I guess the moral behind the meaning is the same.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, and we fell quiet again.

That awkward silence of two people who were inept at small talk, even though my head was stuffed to the brim with thoughts of my stalker and the excruciatingly handsome manager of Savile who recognized me as Petra Black.

20

Selkie’s hands shook nervously as the kitchen manager showed her how to fill and power the commercial dishwashers. I leaned against the doorframe, hoping she’d notice me but enjoying her fumbling. Everything she picked up, she almost dropped in those shaky hands, and her words caught in her throat whenever she spoke.

The creature before me was a stark difference to the vivacious mermaid in the natural water spring, but I liked her nonetheless. When I opened the door for Petra Black at college, she’d forgotten that she’d gotten the job on the back of a fake ID. Ofcourse, the real reason was that I overrode Betty’s decision, and looking at Petra's fumble and trip, I might regret that decision.

She’s cute, though. Very cute. The more I studied her, the more I wanted to get closer to her, just for a glimmer of the selkie.

“We need your hair tied up,” the kitchen manager told her and Selkie’s cheeks burned red.

“I’m sorry. I forgot to do that before I arrived,” she stuttered and turned in my direction. As soon as she locked eyes on me, her lips parted in horror, her eyes glazed over as if she was about to cry, and those sweet cheeks burned some more.

I was obviously making her feel uncomfortable, and although part of me enjoyed intimidating her, I didn’t want the selkie’s trembling hands to drop the expensive dishes. So, I went upstairs to revise course material for the year, my last year at Gotland, thank fuck, with the intention of returning to the kitchen in an hour.

This was my favorite time of the evening when the staff rushed in and set the place up before the members arrived after 5 PM. The echoes of clinking plates and cutlery were like music to my ears.

I paused at Mikky’s office, but I could hear him talking on the phone, so I retreated to my windowless office, where a stack of folders and textbooks waited for me to go through. I had to write a ten-thousand-word thesis this year on business analytics—kill me now. My eyes were growing wary thinking about it. I won’t receive my degree without it, and since the Kaiser Estate was paying for my tuition, I better do a good job.

Between revising the workload, I checked the security surveillance on my laptop. Apart from the bathrooms, every room and hallway had security cameras, which was a good way to oversee staff and detect thefts, break-ins, or any other dubious behavior by staff or members. If a member was too handy withone of the staff, his membership was immediately revoked and banned. That was Mr. Kaiser’s rule.

I clicked on the kitchen cameras and watched live staff clean the surfaces and prepare food for the members' dinner shift. Selkie, with her hair in a ponytail, rushed about, trying to do her best. Quickly, I became mesmerized by her swinging ponytail and uneasiness, constantly second-guessing if she was doing everything correctly. It was day one of the job, and she’ll improve.

Mikky knocked at my office door, breaking the spell. I reduced the security footage so he couldn’t tell I was perving at the staff.

“Just got the phone with the PI,” he said, placing his hands on the back of the chair as his eyes glided over my course material spread across the desk.

“Yeah?” I asked hopefully. He was hired a week ago, so I wasn’t expecting anything this soon. “Has he got any juice?”

He shook his dark head and seemed distracted. “No, but he spoke to Sylvia and wants to speak to you next.”

“That’s fine. Whatever it takes to find out who killed Mr. Kaiser. Seriously, Mikky, I’d do anything,” I meant it. I owed that man my life, but something was bugging Mikky that he needed to spit out.

“Yeah, I know,” Mikky exhaled as his narrowed dark stared at a spot on the desk. He wasn’t looking at anything because I could tell his mind was elsewhere.

“Did the PI, what’s his name, say something to piss you off?” I tried to prise it out of him.

“No,” he replied assertively. “Something he said didn’t quite add up about the timing.”

“What do you mean? What are we talking about here? Timing of what?” I pressed because it wasn’t like Mikky to be so abstract with his language.

He rubbed his unshaven jaw, still staring at the spot on the desk. “I don’t know, maybe it’s me. Maybe I got it wrong.”

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