The Honesty Policy [A Memory]

It Takes One To Know One

AN: Let me just apologize in advance because I know that this is not the quality it should be

Cherrie tucked her Michael Kors purse -it was one of her cheaper articles of baggage, and she would not make much of a fuss if it were to be stolen by one of the many hoodlums present- under her arm, making a blatant point of distancing herself from the others as she sipped her glass of white wine. She didn't trust them... Not one bit.

If she had not been slightly curious about Lyle Massacrade's letter, proposing 1.2 million to the winner of this peculiar study, which he had yet to elaborate further on at this little meeting of his, she wouldn't have even consider the possibility of being around anyone who wasn't a part of the mogul world.

Her nameless driver stood by the door at attention just in case Cherilyn decided at any given moment that she wanted to ditch this Popsicle stand. Oh, what a diligent and attentive worker he was. Too bad Mr. Nameless driver would be replaced by a much fresher, nameless driver the next morning. He'd be paid diligently for his work, and there would be no hard feelings; at least on her side of the card. It was just that his services were no longer required and would not be ever again. Same goes for the next Mr. Nameless driver and all the drivers after that.

Although, none of them ever knew why that was.

"Hello everyone, I hope you're all feeling comfortable and taking this time to get to know each other. It never hurts to meet a new face." Lyle Massacre was a man who spoke confidently, drawing the attention to him with a single, thunderous clap of his slender hands. "This is my assistant Marissa,"

Marissa smiled. Cherrie sneered.

"I suggest that you direct all questions you may have about the program before the presentation, to her, because I am not answering inquiries about that at the moment, and I will not be answering any of those until the presentation has begun and is in full swing." Cherrie eyed Marissa The Assistant in disdain. She didn't like her one bit. Her smile was too polite, her posture to perfect, and her voice too perky when she spoke. Cherrie had had enough assistants, after taking over her late husband's company, to know that even when they smiled so brightly at you, internally, they were screaming raging over the simplest things you said to them, trying desperately to keep their loose fitting heads screwed on.

Then the inevitable day would come when their cranium -with it's smidgen of sanity- would come skyrocketing off and they'd trash your property and hard work in a fit of rage.

Everyone in this line of work is as fake as the day is long. In the end, you find that image is just as important as work ethic, in some cases, more important.

Cherilyn approached Marissa with the faux smile, not wanting to give away too much of what she was thinking as she inspected the young woman. She'd only just met the girl and despised everything about her, deeming her the highest level of untrustworthy. Soft spoken and hard working equals ploying and cunning. 

Because as they say it takes one, to know one.

"Hello Mrs. Osborne, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm a big supporter of your company." Marissa stuck out her hand and lightly shook the older woman's hand. She didn't miss the way that she just barely allowed for contact between their palms, and instead shook by the tips of her fingers.

"I would like to say the same," But I can't.  "Miss Deal. " Cherries glanced back to a corridor towards the far end of the room where Mr.  Massacred was speaking quietly with make employee who looked anything but comfortable conversing with his employer. "Tell me,  how much longer before this presentation will begin?"

Cherilyn didn't bother to glance at the assistant. No,  she was far to busy smirking in question at the young man shrinking away from Lyle; although the man had not changed the slightest in his form.  

"Well,  I reckon that we'll be starting pretty soon, Mrs. Osborne. Would you like me to get you a drink before the presentation begins.""Oh yes,  that would be greatly appreciated my dear. " She gave a gentle tap on Marrissa's arm as she walking away adding quietly with a slight smile, "Anything to get  your wretched dollar store perfume away from my weeping nostrils."

Marrissa walked away pursing her lips to hide her discomfort at the woman's cruel smile. It wasn't directed at her, Mrs. Osborne had avoided her gaze for the majority of the time they'd been together unless it was to sneer and insult her in that sickening sweet voice. Thanking the waiter lightly as she took a glass of white wine from his tray, she glanced back at the woman and trailed her eyes to her boss where he was speaking hushedly with Drew.

Oh my, he hadn't gotten himself in the crossfires of one of their boss' silent rages again, had he? 

Recently, Drew had found himself getting yelled at more and more by his boss for things he hadn't even been involved with. Apparently, Drew had not been living up to the expectations of an SSIC worker, and if he didn't get his act together, he'd be let go...

Shaking her head at the thought of the only, somewhat, friend losing the job he had worked so hard for (even going  as far as moving away from his family in Michigan to pursue a job in the corporate business) Marissa headed back to Mrs. Osborne and handed her the glass of wine. "Took you long enough. I honestly, don't see why Lyle keeps you around?" Marrissa's nose crinkled up at the woman calling her boss by his first name.

Cherilyn smirked at the young woman's displeasure. "Oh, sweetie, have I made you uncomfortable?" She leaned over so that her mouth was next to the assistant's ear. "Just wait to I happen across you again, my dear; I haven't even begun, yet." She turned away from Marissa and walked off until she had a much better vantage point of the two men discussing in the corridor.

Well, she wouldn't call it discussing... It was more a high-end corporate player showing his disdain for one of his employees. She knew the act well, having performed it more than her fair share of times.

Maybe Cherrie was a lot crueler than gossip magazines gave her credit for,  because she was enjoying watching the young man shrinking into himself, the more his boss snarled and barked, just a tad bit too much. 

AN Continued: So this chapter was such a struggle for me to write –And I have no clue why.  But all I knew was that I just wanted to get it done as fast as possible, and I may come back and fix it up later on. Alrighty, I did some editing, but it's still not the best. =/