Twenty One

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They had entered the building in complete silence, when the doors to the lift opened on the 30th floor it had all been silent and up until Moriaty had guided her through a maze of corridors she could have heard a pin drop between them. But then they rounded a corner and into view came a large semi circle desk, situated in front of a large wall of frosted glass, an almost hidden set of double doors placed in the middle.

Getting nearer, Katherine noticed there was one large padded chair behind the desk as well as a desk top computer, printer, fax machine and a large line of paper trays for organising. Moriarty slowed his steps until he was leaning one arm against the front of the receptionists desk which was a higher level than the working level behind it.

"This is where you'll be working for the next few days." He patted the desk as if it were some fancy new car and then looked at her.

"Here?" There was a slight twist in her features as she took in her surrounding. It was all very...bare. The walls were painted a light grey apart from the wall behind her, adjacent to the glass wall, which was covered in a cream textured 3D paper. There were no paintings, no pieces of art, nothing. The only other thing in the reception area was a small seating area made up of six black cushioned chairs and a glass coffee table. "What as?" It could be worse she though, at least she wouldn't go home with hands burnt from bleach. It was stylish...minimalist.

"Use your head Katherine, I'm a busy man." Moriarty rolled his eyes and tapped his hands on the glass in a fast beat when she failed to respond in less than ten seconds. "My receptionist left over the holidays, some...baby or something. You're her replacement until further notice."

"Okay..." Katherine looked at all of the equipment behind the desk and frowned. "But I've never been a receptionist before." She looked at him but instantly regretted her words when he looked at her with a bored expression and turned his back on her, heading towards the double doors.

"You'd also never disinfected a crime scene or ease dropped on strangers but you proved yourself there." Jim spoke loudly over his shoulder so she would here. "Use your initiative." With one hand on the glass he pushed the door open easily and at the last minute, before he disappeared from view, looked at Katherine. "Someone will be in to set you up. I'll be in my office."

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Soon after Jim's rude exit, leaving her clueless as to what to do next or even what work she was meant to be getting on with for him, a young man showed up and helped her set up an account on the computer at the desk. Or her desk she should say. He set up a password for her, an email account linked to the business and a profile, what purpose it served she didn't know, but it all managed to take up an hour of her time which she was grateful for.

During the time he was with her however, she noticed the guy never looked her in the eye and never made any sort of contact with her. He always remained a foot or so away, pointing at the desktop screen from there while directing her what to do. It was strange, yet she couldn't help but think Moriarty was partly to blame for the guy's standoffish attitude.

Never the less, he soon left, going back up to the 'tech floor' as he called it. Which left her alone. Half 10 in the morning and she didn't know how long she was going to be here, as long as Moriarty most likely but that could be late into the night. Yet, there wasn't anything to tell her what to do. Her email inbox was empty, her desk cleared of any notes or instructions...the whole segment of the office was empty.

Her eyes eyes the door to Moriarty's office. She could always go and ask him, but then she guessed that wouldn't be her best example of using initiative. Instead, she took a seat. Behind her desk and opened up an Internet browser. She may have had a tv but that was nothing compared to what was on the Internet. She went straight to the BBC News website and typed in her name, her old name and awaited the results.

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