Chapter 4 My Boss Requested The Pleasure Of Seeing You

With butterflies in her stomach, Cara waited for her writing to be approved for publication. She'd written an article against Nehemiah, and as a journalist at a news agency, she needed her boss' authorization before anything she wrote could be published.

Nehemiah had asserted his authority over her and over everyone else. In his words, no website would dare to publish anything that would make him look anything less than perfect. As a proverb went, "Newborn calves are not afraid of tigers." And as the calf in this instance, Cara had written a piece anyway, doubtful whether Nehemiah truly meant his words or was simply bluffing.

"Bang!"

Her boss was no calf, however. He barely read what she'd written before throwing the papers at her face. "Cara," he bellowed. "Who do you think you are? What kind of stir you've caused? How dare you ask me to publish something like this?" He pointed at the papers on the floor, anger and fear on his face as he continued to rage at her. "You are courting death! But our company has to survive. Nehemiah is someone we mustn't provoke! Pack your things and get out of here right now!"

Her boss was a middle-aged man who had put on some weight. A typical managerial type, the kind who'd grown old with the company. He didn't exactly cut an impressive figure and whatever impression he made on people, it wasn't usually a good one. Now, however, with his cheeks red with rage and mouth flapping open as he bellowed at Cara, he looked both impressive and even worse than usual. In any case, all this was just Cara trying to distract herself from the matter at hand. That is, the fact that he was firing her.

She wouldn't go down without a fight, though. Cara drew herself up and interrupted his tirade, "But, these are facts. You've told me before that a journalist must have enough courage. Courage to publish news others will not. Maybe you've forgotten that?"

As the top dog in the entertainment news industry, their company was supposed to report any news. To Cara, they represented a beacon in the industry, one of the places you could count on to report the truth, and she'd assumed her boss had believed in the same considering his previous words to her.

So now what he was saying-how he was acting, his fear at what she had written-struck her as confusing. Where was the man who told her to have courage? His actions puzzled her... and frightened her as well. If their own agency didn't dare expose Nehemiah, she knew no other agency would.

"Cara!" her boss cried out, interrupting her thoughts. "Whatever you're thinking, whatever plan you thought you had... it won't work. Go against someone like him?! Such a talent like you," he continued, sarcasm cutting through, "shouldn't continue to work here. Just leave. And don't mention your time working here in the future. Don't drag us down with you."

"Boss..." Cara started to say, her boss' fear infecting her as well, her voice trembling as the reality of the situation began to crash down on her.

It hadn't been easy finding this job. She'd worked so hard for so long, and landing a job at one of the leading agencies in the industry had been a dream come true. She wanted to fight for her position. There had to be something she could say.

"Fuck off!"

Her boss' sudden shout, the first time he'd ever cursed at her like this, pierced her heart like a dagger. It was the final push for her to realize he was completely serious. A few minutes ago - what seemed like a lifetime away now - Cara had thought the piece she'd written would propel her career forward. A promotion, a raise, an award, even a single word of congratulations; she'd thought she'd get something. She had been almost giddy with excitement, handing the papers to her boss for approval, and she'd felt as light as a balloon. Now the balloon had popped and her career had fallen like a rock instead.

Leaving the boss' office, Cara fought down tears and trudged to her desk. How quick losing something could be, no matter how long you worked for it. She packed her things one by one, taking as long as she could without getting into trouble. When everything was done, she slowly headed out the building, her feet dragging as if she hoped her boss would call her back.

"Boom!"

Thunder cracked overhead, and as Cara peered up, she saw lightning lance through the skies a short while later.

With that, the skies quickly darkened and as if the thunder was a switch being flicked, rain began to pour down like a shower. Around her, pedestrians quickened their paces, trying to get out of the sudden downpour.

Standing in front of her former work place, still holding her box of things, Cara felt like the unluckiest wretch of the day.

Lost in a haze of depression and self-pity, she didn't even notice a car gliding down the street before slowing to a stop behind her.

"Miss Mu, where are you going?"

A coquettish female voice suddenly spoke up behind her. Cara whirled around in surprise, feeling dizzy as she did so. In her shock and dizziness, and probably from how absentminded she'd gotten, her hands twitched and grew limp. All the folders and things she'd been holding slipped from her grasp and scattered all over the floor. She held back a groan at the sight.

The mysterious woman tilted her head at Cara and stopped her from bending over to pick up the papers. "Why are you so careless?" she gently scolded. "Here, let me help you pick them up."

The two looked at each other. Their figures were so close to each other, and a passer-by might think the two women had known each other for a long time. At that moment, one wouldn't doubt their close relationship.

"Miss Mu, it's raining so heavily," the nameless woman said, in the same coquettish tone she'd used in her greeting. In the same breath, she grabbed Cara's arm. "Let me give you a ride!"

She opened the door of the car parked nearby and made a gesture of invitation.

Despite the stress, Cara could still think clearly and knew she didn't want to go wherever it was this woman wanted to take her. Unfortunately, with all the stress she'd experienced, and with the rain and her exhaustion, she had no strength to push the woman away, or even yell at her. Even as she was dragged into the car, all she could do was speak weakly and desperately.

"Please let go of me," she whispered, as she was slowly but surely pushed inside the vehicle. "I don't know you. I want to get out of the car!"

She managed a burst of words but it did nothing. In the heavy rain and with the calm confidence of the nameless woman, no one around thought the situation strange and so no one thought to look closely at Cara's silent pleas for help.

"Miss Mu, my boss requested the pleasure of seeing you. Please come with me."

As they entered the vehicle, the woman kept talking, slowly, gently, and Cara could barely resist as her own exhaustion caught up with her. Soon they were both in the car, gliding silently down the rain-soaked street.

At first, seated beside the nameless woman, Cara was tensed up and almost jittery with nerves, sensing danger in the situation. As they kept driving though, the constant thrumming of rain and the heat and comfort of the car's interior slowly made her eyelids droop. Whatever fear she felt was overwhelmed with a strange sense of comfort, and her nervousness bled away as she began to fall asleep. When she blinked her eyes open next, however, it wasn't the dimly lit, leather interior of the car that greeted her. It was, instead, a beautiful, well-decorated ceiling. She blinked. And blinked again. The ceiling didn't change. With a sense of growing confusion, she looked again and noticed a fancy crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

"Where am I?"

She spoke aloud, unease in her voice, hoping that hearing her own voice would orient her somewhat.

"Cara Mu, an intern reporter working at the Fortune Press Agency."

A voice floated towards her from somewhere off to the side. It was faint, quiet, yet immediately set Cara on alert. There were voices that relaxed people, and set them at ease. This was not that kind of voice.

"A newborn calf is not afraid of a tiger." The voice sounded almost wondering. "How did you even dare?"

The owner of the voice-a man-smiled. He looked at Cara, and saw a disheveled woman staring at him in confusion. The eyeglasses she'd been wearing had been removed when she was placed on his sofa. Without them, her eyes looked large, almost like a child's, and there was a watery shine to them that made her eyes look pure and charming. Despite her unruly, bedraggled look-or maybe because of it-she looked adorable. Like a lost little kitten rescued from the rain... which in a way, she was.

Meanwhile, Cara stared back at him, but the thoughts running in her head were not as complimentary. Seeing him, she instinctively shrunk into a corner of the sofa, like a prey animal trying to make itself as small as possible.

Oh my God! She bit back a cry of shock and dismay at the sight of the man. Did God just hate her today? After everything that happened, after all the trouble she'd just been in, did this have to happen as well?

Why had she been sent back to her tormentor's side?

Ignorant of her inner turmoil - or perhaps simply uncaring - Nehemiah let his stare drag up and down her body, a playful look on his face as if they'd met casually at a bar, and not that she'd woken up on his furniture.

Under the glow of the crystal chandelier, he looked every bit like the devil she thought he was.

He smiled at her, an edge of danger in the twist of his lips. "You have no idea how much I've missed the taste of you since you left me without saying goodbye."