1 Kirian Cross

I was an outcast…actually, still am. What am I even doing here? I ask myself, wandering down the long hallways of "Wanderlust", the company owned by my clan. Trying to avoid as many people as possible, I make my way towards the meeting room on the fifth floor, clutching the notebook close to my chest.

In the distance, I could hear the loud, boisterous laughter of a Mr. Benny Williams. A round, pudgy man with a balding head and small mustache. Walking up to him, I give a small wave. Stopping in the midst of his story:

"Hello Alice, my dear."

"Hello Benny." I reply, looking into his dark brown eyes with my own green ones. "How are you this morning?"

"Oh, I'm fine. I guess the boss has a very big announcement to make this morning. I hope it's only good things he mentions…" sighing, Benny rubs his 'stache. "Or, maybe you're in trouble miss Alice Grant." He then winks at me before dismissing his audience. "May I?" He asks, offering an elbow. With a small laugh and a smile, I gladly place my hand into the crook of his elbow. We walk together into the conference room.

Inside, the room was gorgeous yet plain: the ceiling was painted a light blue, its trim a brilliant white; and the ceiling had a sort of "open sky" feel, thanks to a large chandelier made of crystal that hung from silver fittings. The walls were a shade darker: the accent wall painted to look like silver and the two pictures in the room were hand-painted in acrylic. Each one showing a beautiful landscape from our homeland in the East. Taking a seat by one of the paintings : a Spring day revealing a lane of Sakura trees alongside a road that led to a beautiful Ryokan Onsen, or "traditional inn", that had a hot spring; I placed my notebook and pen on the black walnut table in front of me.

While waiting, I gazed outside the window closest to me, wondering what the CEO, Mr. Kirian Cross, had to say that was so important that even I, Alice Grant—from the "International Relations" department—had to attend. I was even in the middle of speaking with a client, I fumed, rhythmically drumming my fingers on my right cheek at the thought. The nails feeling like a nice mini-acupuncture on my skin. Spacing-out, about twenty minutes had passed before I realized that the CEO had finally stepped into the room.

The room was eerily silent. There were ten people, including myself, but you wouldn't have known that without looking into the room and seeing it for yourself. That was the power of Mr. Cross: an overwhelming and deadly atmosphere in a matter of seconds. Speak a word out of turn and you'd most likely get sent to the White Room to do some self-reflection. Of course, our CEO wasn't all bad. He'd often give his employees paid vacation time, babysit their cubs, or even host the most extravagant parties for all of us. For me, he was an enigma, wrapped in a human guise that was very attractive: short wavy black hair, dark blue eyes, a sharp chin with a hint of stubble and I'm not even going to mention his lips...okay, I guess I will. They were light pink, compared to his dark complexion, and the perfect size: not too thin and not too thick. I also noticed a habit of his where he would chew his bottom lip—with perfectly white teeth—when he was nervous. Which was rare, if I may add.

As he stood in front of the room in a dark navy pinstripe suit, my eyes focused on the white shirt that was open at the base of his neck. His throat looked appetizing, the wolf part of me thought, gazing at the human flesh with greed. It took a lot of effort for the yokai in me to divert my gaze elsewhere, like towards the red, silk handkerchief in the lapel pocket of his black vest. I was staring so hard at the handkerchief, trying to calm the wolf down, that I had almost missed what came next:

"Everyone, thank you for coming. As many of you know, I have a very important announcement to make." At this, Mr. Cross leaned across the large leather chair at the head of the table, his weight perfectly balanced, as he fiddled with the "Newton's Cradle" in front of him. The "thump, thump, thump" of the metal ball hitting the others reverberated in the silence. Everyone was holding their breath, waiting, watching, for any sudden movements: a room full of predators waiting for either the kill or the axe. Looking up from the gadget, he scanned the room, his eyes finding mine before smiling. "I have finally decided on who will be my assistant in this company."

At this news, everyone must've released the breath they'd been holding. I could've swore that I heard a giant "whoosh" sound at the relief. Almost just as instantly, chatter began to fill the room. Across the table from me, a blonde named Veronica was waving both hands in front of her face, trying to cool down the heat that had risen to her cheeks. "It's probably me, it's probably me," she kept chanting to herself, while her friend Victoria—a brunette and part of her girl clique—kept patting her shoulder, assuring her absolute victory. They also had a crush on Kirian, so I guess it'd make sense if he chose her. I just twirled my pen in my hand, drowning out the noise.

"Quiet please." Mr. Cross said, raising a hand. The room silenced once more, the obedience beyond scary. "I'd now like to announce who it is." Looking through his papers bound in a black portfolio, he stopped at one and smiled. Who is it? I thought, wondering who could earn such a beautiful smile from this terrifying beast. "According to reports of a job well-done, excellent customer feedback and for going above and beyond for our company, my new assistant shall be...Miss Alice Grant."

The room now remained silent for a different reason. I could feel all nine pairs of eyes turning to stare in my direction. I shivered under their cold, glassy stares, but pulling myself together, I stood. With my long auburn hair falling down my back from the sudden movement; "What do you mean, Mr. Cross?"

Looking at me, he smiled and raising his hand, showed me the portfolio. The page I saw showed my face and the ratings I had received from both my work and from the customers. I almost had a perfect five-star rating. "This, Miss Grant, proves to me that you have what it takes to become my assistant. Are you not up for the task?"

Looking away from him, I look at Veronica and her ice-blue glare. "What about Miss Veronica White? She's been here much longer than I have, not to mention she works with our more distinguished clientele."

At my words, Mr. Cross closes the portfolio and places it on the table. "You are indeed correct Miss Grant. Miss White has been with the company for a long time, taking care of some of our more distinguished guests, but have you ever wondered why she only has a three-star rating?" Opening the portfolio once more, he flips through about half-way before stopping. "And I quote, 'Miss White is such a delight, but sadly, she doesn't seem to care about me on a personal level. I need direct answers, not some flowery, sugar-coated version that comes out of her pretty lips.' Another one says, 'Miss White seemed kind, but her eyes held cruelty; I pleaded with her to find me an escort for my trip to Beijing for the Olympics, I am a gold-medalist after all, but since I only won gold a couple of times, she gave me some barely-known escort. I almost got ate by a bear yokai and the escort almost died. Poor service indeed.'"

Mr. Cross closed the portfolio once more before looking into my eyes. "So, Miss Grant. Based on these complaints about Miss White, now will you be my assistant?"

I gazed at him, trying to see what strings he was pulling, but it was to no avail. "Yes, Mr. Cross," I reply. Wondering if I was going to regret this in the future.