"Thank you for calling Hell Enterprises. How can I help you?" Briony answered the phone professionally, sitting in her computer chair with a wide seat and legs crisscrossed. She leaned back and spun around, staring up at the ceiling with a bored expression.
"No, sir, I can't transfer you directly to Mr. Marquis, but I sure can take a message and send it to him," she explained politely, scribbling down the message. "No, thank you for calling us. Mhm. Bye-bye now."
She hung up the phone and stretched her arms above her head. Ripping the note from the pad, she stood and walked over to the slightly closed door and knocked. Inside, a low voice that felt like velvet said quietly, "Come in, Miss Abel."
Briony opened the door and trotted in, leaning a curvy hip against his desk. Mr. Marquis, or rather Simeon Marquis, was an intimidating man to most. Tall, olive-skinned, and with dark curly hair that couldn't decide if it wanted to be black or brown in the sunlight. His eyes were a gorgeous shade of honey brown that almost looked like liquid gold.
It was those little golden pools that settled on her as she leaned on his desk. His face remained impassive as he shifted slightly, lowering the pen he had in one hand. "What is it?" he asked, still in that same low tone. That was Simeon, all soft spoken and seemingly brooding.
No wonder all the office ladies envied Briony's position. She was practically sitting in his lap with her desk stationed just outside his door, within eyesight and earshot. The only woman he seemed to care about was her, mostly related to work things.
"Y'got another one," she said, holding out the message between her forefinger and middle finger. She was fixing him with that disappointed look she managed to wield against him so well. His jaw tightened for a brief moment before relaxing again just as quickly.
"Don't give me that look, Miss Abel," he grumbled, almost petulant like a child. He took the message and read it. "Is this a complaint? From the last merger meeting? Oh, for Hell's sake–"
"Mr. Marquis, you're going to ruin your reputation at this point, you know that?" Briony sighed and reached out to grab a weird spinning thing, playing with it. "You need to be more courteous, especially when you're absorbing someone's company as a last chance for them."
Simeon plucked the item from her hands and set it back on his desk. "I can't help it if they're boring," he leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his dark curls. "Hu– er, people should know when they have no personality so they can fix it, no?"
Another sigh. "You're incorrigible."
As she walked away, he looked after her, eyes tracing the curves and rounds of her shape. "You're lucky I find you adorable, Miss Abel. Not many speak to me like that and get away with it, you know," he called in a light tone, chuckling to himself.
***
As the sunset bled through the large glass windows, painting the office in goldenrod hues, Briony was packing up her things. She noticed her shoelace was untied, and she bent down to tie it. Her pants were just a bit too tight, so she hiked her leg up on her chair, leaning forward. As she did so, the chair started to swivel, and she flapped her arms to keep her balance.
"Miss Abel? If you don't mind, I can help you," she jumped two feet out of her skin and back before she turned around to glare at Simeon.
"Jesus, why don't you ever make a sound?" she pouted, placing her hand over her heart. "And yes, please, if you don't mind."
She was a little embarrassed to see him crouch down in front of her. She felt like a school kid again, having someone else tie her shoe because she didn't know how. Briony blushed, watching his fingers quickly tie the laces, moving with an ease and fluidity she'd never possess in a million years.
God, he even made shoe tying look hot.
Briony cleared her throat and pulled her foot back when he was done, rubbing the back of her neck. "Uh, anyway, thanks," she mumbled.
He chuckled. Like she was a little kid, and he found her amusing. She felt her ears burning and wanted to melt into the floor and disappear right then. She watched as he stood up, towering over her, with her sad five-foot-one-inch height. "You're welcome, Miss Abel. Are you… heading home?" he asked.
Surprised, she nodded, "Yeah. I usually do," she pulled on her little bookbag that doubled as her purse. She was never seen without it. "Why? Did you need help with something?"
"Ah, no, I-I don't." He said bluntly, then blinked at her slowly. It was like his brain just hit a wall. Head empty, no thoughts.
Briony stifled a snort and nodded disjointedly. "'Kay," she said, rocking back on her heels. "I'll see you later, then?"
"Later?"
"Right, I meant Monday," she shrugged. "Colloquialisms. Sometimes I forget you're not from around here."
When she'd applied for the job, he explained that he moved from another area and might need her help blending in with the city life. She'd been helpful so far, she thought. Mr. Marquis is so charming and capable. What a reliable guy. She mused, turning to look at the two brothers who were approaching from the elevators. He called them brothers because it was easier than explaining loyalty, and because no one ever questioned him when he did.
"Yo, Simmy," Marcos called, to which Simeon actually rolled his eyes. He had a warm tone to his skin, hazel eyes, and a lazy grin that fluttered anyone's heart. The man following after him was paler and taller, with long black hair tied back in a low ponytail.
Simeon seemed to develop a dour mood at the sight of his brothers. "Marcos, Andreas," he said in a flat tone. "Why are you here?"
Marcos was busy eyeing up the petite, curvy doll beside him while Andreas answered. "We're having issues with a pest recently," he answered coolly. "It seems they can't keep their eyes, much less their hands, to themselves."
Briony snickered at something Marcos whispered into her ear. Simeon cleared his throat, and they both stood up straight, looking innocent. He thought she was adorable, but his brother… not so much. "Right. So you came to make sure I got home safely," he said, turning his gaze back to Andreas.
Briony blinked and seemed to clue into the conversation again. "Safe? Are things not safe for you, Mr. Marquis?" She looked up at him, brows furrowed.
Oh, the sweet little lamb. Simeon ignored the hushed comment from Marcos–"'Mister'?"–and turned back to his employee. "No, everything is fine, Miss Abel. Andreas here so kindly volunteered to drive you home. Marcos and I have some things to attend to."
She raised her hands, "Oh, no! That's okay. I usually just take the bus."
"Nonsense. The buses are running late tonight anyway," Simeon waved his hand dismissively.
"What…? No, they're… not. Huh," Briony pulled up the bus schedule, and sure enough, they were behind by thirty minutes. Strange, she wondered how he knew that.
"Well, now that's settled. Andreas, please see Miss Abel home safely," he fixed his brother with a steely look before turning away and gesturing to Marcos to follow him back into the office.
Briony rocked on her heels again, then looked up at Andreas. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience, Mr. Andreas," she apologized with a faintly exasperated smile.
Andreas tilted his head, studying her. "No need for apologies. Follow me, Miss Abel."
…
When they were gone, Simeon turned to Marcos. "What is it?"
The other sighed and leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms in a relaxed manner and groaning. "What do you think, Sim? I've seen more of them–the angels–than usual, hanging around the club all creepy like 'n shit. Like we're just a free buffet of humans for them to take," his voice grew bitter and angry.
Simeon clenched his jaw. "Damn it. They didn't learn the last dozen times," he muttered, looking out the window. His fingers tapped against his arm as he thought. He turned to Marcos suddenly, "Has Luci gotten back to us?"
Marcos shook his head, "He's dealing with another uprising in the Middle Sector. Orobas said it's rough goings for a bit."
Not the fucking diviner pitching into this bullshit. Simeon cursed, "What are we supposed to do? Just keep killing the fucking angels? I'm pretty sure upstairs isn't going to be pleased about that."
He bowed his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. He took a deep, steadying breath and let it out, pushing away his frustrations. "We'll just deal with it the way we always do. Save who we can and kill as many of those floating freaks as possible."