razorblade | sebastian vettel ✓

chapter 15 | my mistakes were made for you

«And it's a lot to ask her not to sting, and give her less than everything. Innocence and arrogance entwined.»

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With each second that passed, Cassandra grew more impatient. Her foot tapped on the floor while Hans read from his computer screen not only once, but twice. Maybe thrice because he was that annoying. His expression wasn't very telling, other than the occasional pursing of lips and casual nod he didn't show anything else that could maybe guide her through whatever was going on inside his mind. He always did that, like he was just reading the morning paper and not one of the most important drafts for the magazine for the following months. At least the lack of frowning could be described as a good sign, or she thought so considering he hadn't furrowed his brows in the time being.

After a few minutes, Hans pushed the computer away. He took his glasses off and leaned against his chair, rubbing the sides of his head as if trying to relieve a headache. Cassandra breathed deeply. Her hands were sweating, but cold sweat. She felt gross. He fixed his eyes on her. Serious, nothing to read from his expression except for his always-tired facade. He was unreadable.

"This is the writing I knew you could do." Hans finally spoke. Cassandra felt her stomach twisting. It was supposed to feel like a relief, but it was far from that. "This is the Cassandra I hired." His finger pointed at the computer where the last page of the article was displayed in full view.

She wanted to throw up. "So it's approved? That's exactly what you wanted?" It had taken a lot from her to do what he wanted her to do for the article. But she had done it because it was her career and her own money after all. That was who she was.

Hans nodded, peeking at the computer for a second then back at her. "It wasn't hard, was it?" She didn't say anything, she just glared. His tone sounded patronising. She hated that. "Look, Cassandra, I know sometimes we have to write things we might not feel comfortable writing. Professionally speaking I know you always wanted to be taken seriously as a writer, but this is a good piece, and you did a good job." His compliments weren't as gratifying as he thought they were.

There was something bothering her. Aside from everything. "Is this a good move? I mean," She took a deep breath. "One thing is doing some adjustments to an article about a random singer or model, but this is a big brand." Not that journalism regulations were pretty good in the UK, and technically they were protected. Hans wasn't that stupid.

He looked at her, analysing. Not in a good way like Sebastian. Sebastian. She needed to send him back to that part of her brain she ignored when she was in front of Hans. The one where his ex-assistant, the one she slept with, was. Hans placed his hands on the desk and tapped his fingers on the surface. His stare was attentive as if he was trying to read something from her expression.

It took a bit but he finally spoke. "What was the deal with one of those drivers?" He asked nonchalantly. She frowned. "The one who asked for you to be at Silverstone. Was that the reason you kept pushing the finished piece? Or the reason you ignored my demands for the article?" There was something else coming. She knew it. "I mean, I know you're not a fan of work ethics, so I'm just curious."

And that was it. Cassandra could feel the jab like an accusatory finger being pointed at her. Like she was too predictable and he knew she would end up doing stuff like that all the time. Okay, she wasn't a saint. There was a reputation that followed her, but it was certainly offensive to assume things even if they were technically true. Because she had gotten involved with Sebastian on a personal level.

What a surprise.

"It was another interview. All professional. Sebastian, I mean, he didn't have anything to do with what I wanted or didn't want to write for the article." She didn't even have to explain herself. It wasn't like there was a clause saying she couldn't get involved with the interviewed subjects. Or maybe there was and she was clueless, just like it happened with her former coworker.