e l i t e s / T. Shelby / The Brat Pack

ten * ˚ ✦

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"But it's already afternoon, Irene! It's astonishing that we even lasted this long for a job that we don't need!"

Irene's hands slammed the file in front of her shut, followed by a tired sigh; she cleaned up her workspace. Putting everything back in its place, Irene couldn't help but look at the workspace across from hers.

Thomas's desk.

Messed up as any man's aspect of life would be.

Files after files chaotically decorated the desk, pens left uncapped, and crystal glass with half of its content still in it. Usually, Irene would scold her papa's employees when she catches them drinking on the job, but this time is different. It's her employer that was drinking. As much as she hates the word employer, it really is inevitable.

Leave it alone, Irene. It's not your place to do so. Irene had thought as she moved around the desk toward Thomas's side, her legs soon retracted themselves from the territory.

But you know, he might need it, he stormed out in such a hurry he won't even remember about the state of his desk. Irene let out an exasperated sigh; once again, she hates how persuasive her mind can be.

She hates how her obsessive thoughts and behaviours decide to act up, particularly over her employer. Without another one of her compelling idea comes in, her hands moved quickly to organize the cluttered desk.

If only Irene missed a beat, Thomas would've caught her cleaning up his desk. She doesn't want that to happen. Sure, he'll know that it was she who cleaned up his workspace; the man was not stupid. But she doesn't want to be caught red-handed. No, that's exposing too much. She doesn't want to seem like she cared.

Thomas came, as always, a cigarette in hand. His eyes were served with a beautiful socialite standing neatly in the middle of his office. Hands clasped together perfectly. The heiress cleared her throat quietly as if coughing itself was a burden to her. "I ought to meet your son then."

Thomas let out a puff of smoke, "Of course, Your Excellency, straight to my home in Small Heath."

Irene's face contorted into a puzzled look then a disgusted one as she recalled the mere stench of Small Heath, "Sorry, I thought your home is in Warwick-"

"Well, you thought wrong. Now, let's hurry." Thomas left the room without even checking if Irene was following him. With a shortly timed annoyed expression on her face, she followed her boss closely.

Izzy was waiting in front of the building patiently when Irene went outside. Both of the sisters' faces beamed as they saw each other. "Let's finally go home. That nasty Lizzie girl has been throwing little remarks at me throughout my working."