Chapter 1 - The new boss

Becky

Hill Farrow was an all-glass building that jutted skyward with its thirteen anonymous, identical floors.

The only detail that made the building stand out from the other buildings that surround the central area of the City Center was the red sign posted above the revolving glass door. It indicated the name of the advertising agency founded by Mr. Daniel Farrow. The red eyes of a wolf immortalized in a photograph that went around the world could be seen behind the capital letters.

This photograph was the calling card of Mr. Farrow, a world-famous photographer, and had often also been used as the cover of fantasy books. It was no surprise that he chose it as the logo for his advertising agency.

I checked the street before crossing the crosswalk and pushed open the heavy revolving door, immediately finding myself immersed in the conversation of my colleagues gathered in the lobby.

“Your coffee,” Jenny, my administration colleague, ran towards me.

She had a new scarf tied around her neck that didn't match her yellow sweater at all.

“Since when do you bring me coffee?” I was surprised.

She waved her hands in front of her face excitedly, and a few dark drops overflowed from the plastic cup, landing on the gray tiles. I pulled my shoe off just in time.

“I have great news,” I blurt out quickly. "Great! So big you can't even imagine. I mean, if you want, you can try to guess, but you'll never be able to. I'm sure what I'm about to say doesn't even cross your mind..."

“Daniel Farrow is here,” Connor from the graphics team chimed in, snatching the glass from her hands. “I better hold it until you calm down.”

I rolled my eyes, already panicking. “Is the boss here?”

Jenny and Connor nodded at the same time. The first excited, the second terrified. I could guess why he was so upset because it was the same reason I was.

“My desk is a mess,” I stammered.

“Who cares about the table?” Connor retorted. "Would you rather print the back page of Vanity Fair?"

My eyes widened even more. I was starting to see blurry. "You should not have done this?".

“And since when have I been in charge of this?”

"Like forever? I'm part of the publicity team, it's not my job."

“Dimitri asked you for kindness a week ago.”

I suddenly remembered the entire conversation that had taken place a week earlier with Dimitri, the megagalactic leader's right-hand man who replaced him during long absences. I rubbed my forehead, already panicking. Dear God, the day hadn't even started and I was already in a lot of trouble.

“Do I still have time?” I asked.

Connor nodded, suddenly looking at Jenny, who was trying to get her attention with small slaps on the arm.

"Good! Then I better get going before the big boss notices." I brushed a strand of hair off my forehead and snorted. "This guy has been around the world for months and months and must decide to come and stress me out today. Didn't he have other wolves to photograph?"

"Honey..." Jenny lashed out.

But I didn't listen to her. I was exhausted and it wasn't even nine in the morning. "Why would a bum decide to lock himself in this disgusting gray building?"

Connor's eyes inspected mine, wide, almost glassy. It seemed like they wanted to tell me something, but I didn't understand what.

“I didn’t even have my coffee, damn it.”

“I brought you coffee,” Jenny murmured shyly, barely looking up from the floor. But what was wrong with her?

"The floor drank my coffee. Come to think of it, those coffee stains on the floor are the only color in this building. Couldn't they have put a plant here and there? Since you like the bush so much, you could have put a pine tree at the entrance. There! Near the big window that is gray."

“Honey…” Connor tried again.

“Aah! Couldn't he have stayed in his beloved forest one more day? What is it? Did the wolves go into hibernation?

Jenny and Connor closed their eyes at the same time and rubbed their foreheads. They seemed in symbiosis.

“Wolves don’t hibernate.” A male voice behind me made my shoulders tense.

I slowly turned around and found myself staring at a man's chest wrapped in a blue t-shirt. I had to take a step back and lift my chin so I could look at his face. I had never met him and at first, assumed he was a new client of the agency.

His skin was tanned and his chin was hidden under a well-groomed, not-too-long beard that blended with dark sideburns. His hair was a slightly lighter tone, tied behind his neck in a messy bun that couldn't contain the topknot that fell on the side of his forehead. She was crossed by two expression lines that led to the hypothesis that she was in her thirties. His dark eyes, filled with that wisdom that only a grown man can have, betrayed a note of curiosity mixed with annoyance. They were a focus elongated outwards. A characteristic that the Cariocas did not have.

“So what do these wolves do in the spring?” I asked, irritated at being interrupted.

"They go into heat," he replied without any hesitation.

“Ah!”, I blushed. I tried to look away, but his deadly serious black eyes kept me chained.

“And they are looking for a partner who can give them new children,” he concluded, even more seriously.

I wet my lips in embarrassment and with some effort I managed to move my gaze down, finding myself looking at his chest for the second time. It was wide, so wide that it blocked my view. Two silver chains dangled from his muscular neck, intertwining a few inches above his abdomen.

"His name?" he asked, leaning forward a little and tilting his head to the side to meet my face.

I kept my head down, only looking up. He intimidated me like no one had ever done before. "As?".

“I asked her name.”

"Becky."

“Becky,” he repeated, returning to an upright position. “Becky, how?”

"Becky Hower."

“Well, Miss Hower, can you tell me where the boss’s office is?”

I shrugged my shoulders, returning to my professional and calm air. Who knows if he was the long-awaited Vanity Fair client? We had been tasked with the campaign for the latest lipstick launched on the market and the value was so high that it guaranteed the agency at least three years of revenue.

"It" on the thirteenth floor. The entire floor is the office of Mr. Farrow and his right-hand man, Dimitri.

A crooked, fleeting smile curved his lip upward. “I'm glad you know where he is. Then I'll be sure he won't be late."

"Late for what? Where?"

I looked for Connor and Jenny, but to my surprise, I realized they were missing. Now that I noticed, the entire lobby was empty.

"I'll be waiting for you in ten minutes", he said goodbye with another half smile that was anything but kind.

He took a few steps away, pointing to the elevator. His gait seemed like that of a predator: confident, determined, silent.

"Sir, I'm sorry, but you can't show up in the boss's office without announcing yourself first. Besides, I'm a simple advertiser, I have no reason to contact you."

The heavy amphibians made no noise on the tiles as he retraced his steps. Something akin to amusement flashed in his irises. But it was only an instant. “Who should I let myself be advertised to?”

"I'll handle it." I went to reception and picked up the phone, dialing the thirteenth-floor extension number. “Now I will inform Mr. Dimitri. Who should I tell him?"

The man rested his forearms on the edge of the counter and leaned toward me, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. A frown is when you don't understand something. He looked at me slowly, registering every detail of my

face, finally with a hasty movement of his hand he pointed to the telephone receiver.

“Tell him the boss is coming.”