Chapter 04

Mary

"So, how's the punishment going? "Halley's voice surprised me.

"I'm going to take the whipped cream out of his coffee," I sighed.

“How did this happen? Where did all that determination to make him suffer go?” she laughed.

"I have to find another way to accomplish this," I suspected, "Any ideas?

"What if you started calling him at dawn? " She suggested it as we returned.

"I'd rather sleep," I denied “Besides, I'm pretty sure he doesn't sleep.”

" How about arranging a bizarre new way to pronounce Pyotr?” She smiled.

"He's gotten used to it," I bit my lower lip, stopping by the door leading to my living room, “I'll think of something by the end of the day.”

I went back to Pyotr's office who was distracted reading a text I had separated for him. I walked up to his desk and grabbed the coffee cup, trying to take out all the whipped cream at once with the spoon.

"Let me leave, I will do it," the man raised his eyes toward me.

"Too late," I raised the spoon with the whipped cream and carried it to my mouth.

"You got dirty," he warned.

I swum my index finger in the corner of my mouth, taking out the whipped cream that had accumulated there.

"I don't know what your problem is with that” I scoffed, taking my dirty finger to my mouth next.

Pyotr seemed about to answer something, when his eyes focused on something behind me, He got up quickly, causing me to become confused, still with my finger in my mouth, I turn around to face the person standing there.

"Dad?" I took my finger out of my mouth quickly "What are you doing here?"

Damn, he shouldn't be there. He has to see that I take my job seriously, and not that I piss off my boss.

"Mr. Navruz" Pyotr turned the table to shake the man's hand.

"I did not see you in the morning” He shook my boss hand, without looking away from me, with his forehead frowning.

"I left early today," I explained quickly.

" Any particular reason? "He alternated his gaze between the two of us," You should not leave your table empty.”

Damn, he's definitely thinking I suck at my job. Couldn't he have shown up a little later? Preferably when I was sitting at my desk, scheduling meetings or reading emails?

"She was bringing me coffee, Mr. Navruz," Pyotr explained.

"Yes," I agreed, "His coffee. I bring it every morning. It's part of my job, Dad.”

"I understand," Omar continued to take turns looking between the two of us, "Tasting your boss's coffee is also part of the job?"

I looked at the spoon still in my hand, thinking about how I could explain it.

He woke me up at dawn to order a coffee, so I put whipped cream, which he just happened to hate, and in the end I had to take it off?

If I say that he'll make sure I don't do my job right!

"Why are you even here? "I disconversed by placing the spoon discreetly on Pyotr's table.

"I came to warn you that you will have lunch with me and your mother today," he continued with a suspicious look.

"Will I? "I faced him confused.

"I'll come and pick you up at noon," he warned with an illegible expression, "Be ready. And get back to work, little girl.”

"Yes," I muttered toward my desk hoping he wouldn't tell my mother that.

Omar talked to Pyotr for a few minutes before leaving, making me blush for what happened before. I didn't want to seem irresponsible in front of my father, I didn't want him to think I'm not able to do my job right.

I'm capable, he just showed up at the wrong time.

"Mary?” I looked up, finding Pyotr's gaze upon me. I could have sworn I had some kind of concern in them, but it was gone soon.

"Yes?”

"You... you're a good assistant” He commented bland “The coffee issue, well, I don't care about that, so don't mind what your father said.”

"Thank you, Peter," I offered a genuine smile.

At least someone sees my ability.

He waved and entered his office, closing the door then. I took a deep breath trying to focus on my work.

I spent the whole morning absorbed in a series of short stories that arrived in the e-mail, and ended up not noting the passage of time until Halley warned me that my parents were waiting for me at the central reception of the building.

I ran to the elevator, barely remembering to tell my boss I was leaving. Luckily the elevator was standing on the floor, when I got to the ground floor, it was just my mother who was waiting at the reception, getting countless prying eyes.

For those who do not know her, she might even seem like a distinct and harmless woman, but those who work there know the danger that their presence posed.

"Mary, you’re finally here " She scolded as soon as I arrived.

I noticed her blonde strands perfectly fastened in a coe, her eyes of indefinite color, which I wish I had inherited, and her body covered by the cream suit, which could accentuate each curve to perfection. My dad was a lucky guy.

"It's twenty-five floors, Mom," I rolled my eyes, "to get here faster if only I jumped out the window.

"Your father is waiting for us at Le Bernie," she said by putting her hand on my back and urging me to walk, “he took Paris straight there.”

" Paris? Who's Paris? "I stopped walking, staring at the open door of the car “Why will this Paris be there?”

"Didn't your father warn you? "My mother rolled her eyes, urging me to get in the car “We're going to give an interview to Paris Thompson's column.”

"What? " I widened my eyes.

I hated those interviews, I always ran away from that and they never made a point of me participating, why the change?

"It was for your father to have warned you," she sighed by casting a sympathetic eye on me, "Next time I'll take care of it myself.

Well, if it was her and not my dad in the morning, I'd definitely be in trouble. I took a deep breath and moved on, trying to imagine what was waiting for me.

" What kind of interview is this?” I questioned, while the driver drove through the few blocks that paraded the company from the restaurant.

Hellish traffic, as always, slowed things down.

" About our family, about the company, these things.

"And why do I have to participate? Why now? "I insisted.

I've seen dozens of interviews like this, but I've never had to participate in any.

"Well, because people want to know why our heiress is working as a personal assistant," she answered me, "And they want to know your point of view about it.”

"You can't be serious! Mom, I'm not a public person, I don't have to give my life satisfaction” I moan “Come on, I work, I basically live with the money I get, I've never been arrested, why don't you leave me alone?”

"We're not asking you to tell me anything personal, Mary," she stared at me  “It's not the end of the world. And the part about never being arrested is relative, isn't it?”

"That's not how I see it," I rolled my eyes, ignoring her provocation.

"Come on," she ignored my protests when the car pulled up at the entrance to the restaurant.