Venom

003

Helen didn't enjoy slipping out of the warm bedsheets. She wanted to spend her entire life there. But, of course, people won't die without an assassin to do it.

So, at four thirty, Helen found herself taking a shower and getting ready for her appointment with Dean Warren. While dressing up with cream pants, a black shirt and a long, black coat, she realized she had no idea what Warren looked like.

She knew he was young - just four years older than her - but she hadn't seen pictures of him yet.

While making her way to the Bank, Helen wondered what he was going to look like. Was he going to be handsome? He was probably fit, since he was a trained assassin like her. Brown hair? Blond? Bald with a disgusting goatee? Helen shivered at the idea.

Actually, if he were too ugly to look at, perhaps it might have made it easier for her to get rid of him. If he were handsome, she was going to take his beauty away from him with a few blows of her knives on his face.

Alright. Enough. She wasn't patient enough. She stopped at the red light and before crossint the road typed: "Dean Warren" on Google.

Well, first of all, damn. Second of all, there was no way it could be him. The gray eyes looking back at her through the picture belonged to the face of a super model, not a CEO, and certainly not an assassin. It had to be someone else. He had to be ugly, because she would have banged the shit out of this guy in the picture.
The light turned green.

~~~

Warren's Bank was warm and welcoming when Helen stepped inside. On the first floor there was a large, elegant desk, behind which Savannah was smiling and waving at her. Now that Helen looked more closely, the secretary did in fact have a ring on her left hand. Yep, she was married indeed.

Helen put on a smile while she walked up to the desk. "Hello," she greeted the blonde.

"Hi! Welcome to Warren's Bank. Please, follow me. I'll take you to Mr. Warren's office," Savannah answered, pointing at the elevator.

They got inside and the secretary pressed one of the last buttons. "Ninety-fifth floor?" Helen asked, trying to make the silence less awkward.

"Yeah, he likes the view from up there," Savannah explained with a smile.

Helen smiled back. "I bet. New York does look stunning from the highest floors."

"Indeed."

There was a long silence that kept them company until they reached the floor. When they exited the elevator, there was another desk - although smaller - with another secretary who smiled at them. "Hi Savannah," the man said. He was probably in his forties, not particularly handsome, but very polite.

"Hey Chris. This is Ms. Donovan. She's here for the interpreter job," the blonde explained her coworker, who nodded and cocked his head towards two tall, wooden doors. They reminded Helen of the doors of Derek's office.

"Of course. I'll take it from here, then."

Helen said goodbye to Savannah, who went back downstairs in the elevator, giving her thumbs up for good luck before the doors closed. "So, uhm, what do I do?" Helen asked the secretary.

The man - Chris - gave her a kind grin. "Just knock. He's waiting for you."

Helen nodded, taking a breath. "Alright, thank you."

"No problem."

Helen walked towards the doors, taking off her coat. For some reason, she was actually scared this job interview could go wrong. If he didn't hire her, she was going to sneak in his house and force him to sign the damn will, and then kill him. No, she couldn't do it. She had to have the job, or else Derek was going to gut her for killing her target too soon.