5. Typical Businessman

Settling down was easy enough.

It wouldn’t be uncharacteristic for her to feel and seem lost in a new city as old and busy as London. The aimlessness she felt until she was able to get into the office was very much real. The dread of having to go to work on Monday was real as well.

She was no longer allowed contact with anyone in the SIA except for the information division. That would be her lifeline for familiarity. 

In her prior briefings, it was suggested to make friends so it would seem like she was truly working there. The thought made her cringe. She would rather be alone than around people unfamiliar to her. Her trust in others was nonexistent in a world full of supernatural beings.

Her first day was a success mostly having to go through HR required training and being shown the simple nature of her job.

Olivia survived a few more days then a week as Executive Account Manager Percival Whitmore's secretary. She hadn't stepped on toes or gotten so irritated with incompetent people that she blew a gasket, but she had gotten close a few times. 

Luckily, since she was in a more entry-level position because of her lack of experience yet enough degrees to get her where she needed to be, she wasn't burdened with much to do, and the little errands Executive Whitmore sent her on felt meaningless. That meant she could explore the building as she went through. 

Unfortunately, there was a degree of tenseness she felt each time she had to situate herself outside of the old man's office. 

Their first meeting was indicative of what sort of man he was. 

His put-together appearance was misleading.

"This will be your new secretary, Executive Whitmore," the receptionist who greeted Olivia upon arrival introduced the man to his new worker. She then turned to Olivia. "Let me know if you have any further questions."

"For now, I'll be alright," Olivia responded, being sure not to say too much and to keep a facade on that told the others she was slightly uncomfortable and not sizing up each person who walked by. 

"Of course." 

The receptionist left Olivia to the wolves, but she didn't realize that until the executive opened his mouth and her view of a nice, normal company was shattered. 

"Shorter skirts, more colors," he said. "And for God's sake, what's with a high neckline? Why is your generation so conservative?" 

Olivia balked. 

"E-excuse me, sir?" she asked. 

"You heard what I said," he said. Then, as if he hadn't said something completely degrading he asked, "Could you get me an extra hot Americano from the cafe downstairs?" 

Olivia smiled politely despite it not meeting her eyes. If the man was lucky, she wouldn't throw the boiling hot drink over his face upon returning. She had never been spoken to like that before, but it was mostly due to the fact she normally wore clothing more tactical and boyish, to her mother's chagrin. 

That very interaction was the reason she lowered her standards and became quiet. She accepted each request with a few words and always did as she was told. 

To her surprise, Executive Whitmore became complimentary of her the moment she shut her mouth tightly. As long as her face didn't give way to her thoughts, he thought she was respectful and submissive. 

Even though she refused to wear anything that would complicate her mission, he didn't seem to mind that much. She relented with a lowered collar that showed cleavage depending on the angle. 

She found the old pervert going to her desk more than she went to his on days she wore something a bit less modest. He was unbelievably predictable. 

Despite how much he complimented her, her responsibilities never seemed to widen and she began to feel panicked that she would never move higher in the company. 

She knew progress would be slow because Nova told her this mission would span years so they wouldn't jump the gun yet again, but it was still frustrating feeling like she was wasting her life away. She knew there were agents in the field seeing actual action. 

Her last failure made it seem like she had lost the Agency's trust. Considering she spent her entire adult life trying to prove herself, it stung. If having to bear the job of a secretary was her way of making reparations, she wouldn't complain outwardly. 

Olivia finally settled down in front of the computer and began organizing and simplifying her boss' schedule in a way he could better understand. Despite all of that work, she knew she would still have to explain each detail to him anyway. 

Thinking she would be able to do some busy work for a while, she heard the office door open and the executive made his presence known by placing a hand on her polished wooden desk and leaning into it. Her fingers stopped on the keyboard, unable to work when someone was hawking over her in such a way. 

"Do you need something, sir?" Olivia asked, being as polite as she possibly could. 

When her eyes left the screen and went to his, she noticed he was peering down her v-neck top underneath the sweater she wore. 

If she were at an SIA facility, she would have slapped him across the face and demanded respect. Unfortunately, this mission was important enough for her to hold back despite how much it made her blood boil. 

He was someone who answered to no one except those higher than him. The rules of the average person didn't apply to him. He was a package of everything she despised. 

"There's a package for me in the mail room, but I forgot to schedule a drop off since I didn't have a secretary last week," he said. "And I would like another coffee." 

'Translation: I didn't schedule a drop off because that sort of busywork isn't important enough for someone like me,' Olivia repeated in her thoughts. 

"Of course, sir," she said. "I'll be on my way." 

Away from her boss was a breath of fresh air. He never cared how long she took as long as the coffee was still hot enough once it made it to his desk.

Olivia decided to take the long way down and as she walked down one of the hallways, a man walked by with golden hair and she immediately pressed her body against one of the walls in case he peered back down the hallway. 

She wasn't ready to face Ian yet. 

Each night she went to bed, she was updated with more information about his goings on and his schedule. They were closing in on a timeline that would make sense for her to move through the company. 

Even if it had to be done in less than savory ways, she would find a way to the top no matter what. 

Unfortunately, he was going down the hallway she needed to access the elevators. 

She had to take deep breaths. Seeing her target had her adrenaline pumping. 

In past missions, that feeling carried her through capturing the target and making them submit. That feeling was useless in an office where she didn't need to be the fight half of fight or flight. 

He had to have been in the elevator by that point, she reasoned. 

As she stepped away from the wall and went towards the corner, she was dragged around it and pressed against the wall by one of her wrists and her waist. 

"Who the hell do you think you're following?"