3

The alarm on my clock went off again, it had interrupted my sleep about three times already. It's too early, and the sun hasn't even risen yet. I opened my eyes to check the time:

5:20 a.m.

"Damn it!" I exclaimed, realizing I was late. I jumped out of bed and headed to the bathroom, tossing my pajamas aside. I showered at lightning speed; I couldn't afford to be late on my first day of the trial.

After leaving the bathroom, I hastily put on the first clothes I found. I combed my hair, grabbed my bag, and rushed out. I didn't even have breakfast. As I hit the road, I desperately looked for a bus or a taxi, anything. Finally, my eyes landed on a taxi, and I hailed it immediately.

As it stopped in front of me, I hurried to get in.

"To the Pawlan building," I told the driver.

"Good morning, miss, nice to see you again," the taxi driver said as he started driving, although his voice sounded oddly familiar. I glanced up.

"You?" It was the same taxi driver from yesterday.

"And it seems you got your trial week," he acknowledged. "I'm not sure whether to congratulate you or what."

"I don't see why you should congratulate me," I murmured. "After all, it's just a trial, and I'm late. I don't think I'll last long there."

"That might be the best thing for you," he said.

"Thanks?" I replied.

"Don't take it personally. I'm saying it for your own good."

I checked the clock; it was 5:30 a.m. Well, at least Spencer arrives at six. The taxi parked in front of the building.

"Thank you," I paid him.

"See you later, young lady. Take care."

I got out.

I walked quickly towards the building, passed through the doors, and the hallways until I reached the elevator. It seemed I wouldn't be encountering Spen today; I'd see him later... Speaking of Spen, it can't be. I forgot the sheets with the questions. Damn it, always forgetful.

Upstairs, it was the same; there was no one around. As soon as I opened the doors to Spencer's office, I noticed the mess. Papers were scattered everywhere, an empty liquor bottle, and... I swallowed hard... a pair of panties. It was a damn thong lying on the floor.

It seems Mr. Pawlan had fun last night. It was to be expected. I left my bag on a sofa and hurried to clean up the mess. I picked up the papers, organized the folders, and cleaned the huge glass window. There was a moment when I got lost staring at the photo of him on his desk. But then I snapped out of it, until the doors of the office opened; I was just about to sit down, but upon seeing him enter, I stood up immediately.

"Good morning," I said.

No response. There was movement outside. His suit was impeccable, and his hair was falling on his forehead. So sexy. I grabbed my bag and started putting it on. He remained standing, looking around. He didn't seem displeased, so I didn't panic. Yet. His gaze fell on the thong I had left on the sofa's armrest, and he looked at me.

"It's not mine," I hurried to explain. "I found it lying on the floor, so I put it there. I suppose your companion from last night must have left it."

He frowned but didn't say anything, just circled the desk and sat down.

"If you don't need anything... I'll leave," I said. "I'll be outside, somewhere, in case you need me."

"You'll be in the printing office; I'll tell my secretary to send you some papers."

"Alright."

I walked towards the exit, but his voice stopped me.

"Do you have something to tell me?"

I looked at him, not understanding.

"No."

His gaze remained locked with mine for what felt like an eternity; I swear I would pay to know what he's thinking... But at the same time, I wouldn't.

"Fine, you can leave."

I turned, leaving his office.

Where the hell is the printing office? I debated whether to ask the secretary or not; I didn't like this girl at all. I had just arrived, and she was putting on way too much makeup; her gaze met mine.

"What?" she snapped.

"Is your complexion natural, or is it due to too much powder?" I teased. I didn't know if her skin was actually white or what.

Her expression turned serious. "Don't you have anything to do?" she retorted, turning her gaze back to her hand mirror.

"Yes, goodbye."

I started walking, but on the way, I met the guy from yesterday, the one who was with Spencer last night. He smiled when he saw me.

"Hermione," he approached me. "Good to see you again."

I smiled back. "Likewise..." I stopped abruptly, not knowing his name.

"Brett. Call me Brett."

"Brett, do you know where the printing office is?" I asked him.

"I'll take you."

We started walking down a corridor; several workers were passing us by, a bit agitated. This part seemed more lively. Until we reached a door that read 'Printing Room.' I turned to him.

"Thank you," I said.

"So... were you half asleep last night?" he asked. I looked at him, not understanding. "I'm saying because you told Spencer not to look in that box."

Heat rushed to my cheeks. Always me. Great.

"Did I say that?" I nervously laughed. "I'm sorry, I was very, very tired, and sometimes I don't know what I'm saying."

He smiled slightly. "Oh, you're the one in charge of cleaning Spencer's office, right?"

I nodded.

"Apologies for the mess."

I furrowed my brow. Then it was him? And here I thought Spencer had a night of debauchery. And for some reason, that causes me... relief. The fact that nothing happened.

I smiled. "No problem," I muttered. "That's my job."

Then a memory came to my mind.

"Do you know Spen?" I asked. I noticed his brow furrowed before his eyes widened in surprise, but he managed to hide it.

"Yes, why? Do you like him?" He smiled playfully.

"No," I hurriedly said. "It's just that we had something to discuss, but I can't find him anywhere."