Chapter 11

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YAY! ANOTHER UPDATE! This chapter is a bit shorter than others, but I was in the mood to write and didn't want the inspiration to pass without giving ya'll at least a little update! I would love to read what you guys think, so if you come across something you like while you're reading, drop an inline comment :)


"Ms. Vanderwall," Fred Muller began, tapping the end of his pen against Mila's desk impatiently. "Have you finished those reports I asked you to do last week?"

"Oh," She stammered, glancing up from her typewriter into the expectant eyes of Mr. Muller. Between typing up the agenda before each morning's briefing and attending all of the extra meetings General Eichmann had been holding as of late, she had completely forgotten about the reports Mr. Muller had asked her to type up last week. Why he had tasked her with the job in the first place, she hadn't a clue. Since their first encounter, she had had a sneaking suspicion he wasn't very fond of her, that feeling only growing when he had began giving her odd jobs and tasks any other typist in the office could do, only to pile them upon the endless mountain of work she already had to do.

"Well?" Mr. Muller pressed, tapping his pen incessantly against her desktop.

"I'm sure they're here somewhere," She stalled, pretending to look for the finished reports underneath a stack of papers.

"Surprise surprise," Mr. Muller tutted, picking up an olive green folder from the pile and holding it up between two fingers. "Yet another assignment unfinished," He began, opening the folder, flipping through the original handwritten reports in a mock search for her typed copies.

"I'm sorry Mr. Muller," Mila apologized, her cheeks flushing a light shade of pink. "I'll get to work on those right away," She added, though how she would possibly find the time to finish those reports on top of everything she had left to do, she didn't know.

"Is there a problem?" Josef's deep voice sounded casually as he approached the pair of them.

"It seems Ms. Vanderwall is struggling to keep up with her work load," Mr. Muller said, a satisfied smile turning up the corners of his mouth. Gosh, why did he dislike her so much? "I assigned these reports nearly a week ago and they're still not finished," He continued, slapping the folder dramatically onto her desk.

"Funny," Josef began, taking a drag from the cigarette in his hand, his eyebrows furrowed as though he was thoroughly confused. "Ms. Vanderwall seems to be keeping up just fine with what General Eichmann asks of her. Speaking of," He continued, heaving a fresh stack of files on top of her desk, flattening the one Mr. Muller had sat down. "I was coming to bring you these ... They're from the meetings the General has been in today. He wondered if you could make copies of each department's report for all the department heads?"

"Of course," Mila nodded, eying the files intently. To her frustration, she hadn't been asked to attend any of the meetings held that afternoon. She assumed because the General had been discussing highly sensitive information ... Information she desperately wanted to get ahold of - like the locations and times of the supply shipments.

"Ahem," Mr. Muller cleared his throat, undoubtably annoyed by Josef's interruption.

"Oh, my apologies," Josef said, lifting up the bottom edge of the folders he had placed on her desk, slipping Mr. Muller's thin, green one from underneath them. "Here you go Fred," He said, handing the file back to Mr. Muller, his expression one of innocence, though his mouth had twitched ever so slightly as a smirk threatened to pull up the corners of his lips. "I'm assuming you can find someone else to finish these for you, since we can both agree these take precedence." He continued, patting the stack he had placed there.

"I suppose I'll have to." Without another word, Mr. Muller took the folder and made his way back to his office, though the scowl on his face made it quite clear he wasn't happy.

"I'd take a look at this one first," Josef said, the smirk he had been trying to suppress, now evident on his face as he tapped his finger against the file at the top of the pile. Giving her a quick wink, he turned around, making his way back down the hallway from which he had came.

Trying to suppress the smile that threatened her lips, she watched as he walked away, disappearing through the door to his office. Turning her attentions to the files in front of her, she gingerly opened the top one, a small scrap of paper placed on top of the reports General Eichmann had meant for her to copy.

I need to see you again. I'll pick you up this Saturday, 3pm ... Dress warm.

-Josef

Stealing one last glance down the hall, her eyes lingering on the door Josef had disappeared behind, she smiled to herself. Folding the paper up, she slipped it into her pocket for safekeeping before switching her focus back to the files on her desk. Methodically, she began to scan each line, trying all the while not to think about what she and Josef would be doing come Saturday afternoon.


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