Becoming Mrs. Box

Chapter 1

It was a bright, sunny Monday when you first started your job. It was a cashier position at a local Jack In the Box. Not a fancy job, but you needed it. Anything to help your Mom pay off her medical treatment costs.

"—and this is where you'll start," Moira, your new manager, was telling you. She gestured to the register. "I assume you remember from the orientation how it works?"

"Yeah—I mean, yes ma'am!" You gave a nervous smile. You could not lose this job. Your sister was already working her tail off trying to get through college. You needed to pull your own weight.

After some more basic pointers, Moira left you to your own devices. You glanced at the clock. Almost 12:30. The lunch rush would start soon. You adjusted your Jack In the Box visor, the band of it making your forehead itch slightly. Time to get to work.

Despite it being your first day, you handled the rush with little difficulty. You had worked customer service before, and so you knew the basics of the job. You kept your award winning smile, your bright, cheerful, "Hello, and welcome to Jack in the Box! How can I help you today?" Even when you were swamped with ungrateful, sometimes downright nasty customers.

It was 1:45 when the rush started thinning out. You now had some time between orders, which you utilized to clean. Wiping down counters, mopping the floor behind the register, little maintenance things like that. You were bent down, with your back to the counter, scrubbing at a stubborn stain on the drink counter, when you heard several of your coworkers gasp. Curious, you glanced up, and saw Maddie—a pretty blonde girl that started a week before you did—looking behind you with an expression of awe and slight fear. You turned around, and froze when you saw who she was looking at.

You had heard rumors about the CEO of the Jack In the Box corporation. Every employee, even ones who worked at small, remote locations, knew of him. He was infamous for being jovial and friendly one moment—and vicously cold the next. He would drop by unannounced to check up on different restaurants. There were countless stories of him firing employees on the spot because he caught them slacking off. One rumor said that he fired and blacklisted an employee for eating at Burger King.

And of course, there were darker rumors. Stories that were only whispered between cashiers and grill workers. Stories of how he arranged the assassination of the general manager of a Wendy's. Stories of how he broke into a customer's home and killed them in cold blood because they trash talked his establishment.

They were all just stories, of course. Just hearsay. But that didn't stop a chill of alarm from trickling down your spine when you made eye contact with the man himself, standing in front of your register. Mr. Jack was dressed in a dark blue suit, his white, globular head clean and crisp. His blue eyes were locked with your own as he towered above you, his red smile somehow both amiable and threatening.

"Well, hello there! You must be new. I don't think I've seen your face before. And I always remember a face!" Mr. Jack stuck a hand out. You straightened immediately, almost going lightheaded with how fast you stood.

"Um, y-yes, Mr. Jack, sir! I just—j-just started today." You returned the handshake, hoping your trembling couldn't be felt by him. His large, warm hand engulfed your own. His grip was firm, but not in a comforting way. It was as if he was making sure you knew he was holding back most of his strength. He shook it once. Twice. Then promptly released you.

He clapped his hands together. "So..." he leaned forward slightly, eyes trailing down. You felt heat rise to your cheeks, despite knowing he was only looking at your name tag. "...Y/n? What a lovely name! Anyway, Y/n, I couldn't help but notice you had your back turned to the register when I came in. Is that anyway to greet a customer?" His words were light, but his tone carried an edge to it.

Your embarrassment turned to horror. "N-no sir, I was just—I was cleaning and I—I didn't hear you come in!" Desperation coiled in your belly. You glanced around to see your coworkers looking on in helpless terror. Would you be fired on your first day? Oh, why did he have to drop by right at this moment? "I-I promise I wasn't slacking off—I swear!" You defended yourself. "I was just—"

A burst of laughter from Mr. Jack cut you off. He held a hand to his chest, his broad shoulders shaking with humor. Your brain processes ground to a halt, and you simply stared in shock. "Oh my gosh, your face!" He wiped away an invisible tear. "Aw, don't worry Ms. Y/n, I'm just yanking your chain." He straightened, pulling at his cuff links to neaten his suit. "I saw you cleaning when I came in. It's good that you're making sure your stations are nice and tidy. Moira!"

Your manager appeared at your side, her blonde bob cut swishing as she moved. "Mr. Jack! Pleasure to see you," she said. Moira wasn't as awestruck as the newer employees, and you were immensely grateful for that fact in that moment.

Moira shooed you off to do some stocking while she talked with Mr. Jack. You took your leave as quickly as possible, ducking into the back of the kitchen to do as she asked. Inwardly, you hoped you never saw Mr. Jack again.