❝Skip all the know how, and fuck all their high brow shit.
Too pretty to die, we're doing fine
Trash talking love.❞  

Prologue: 
The Assignment

"You know, you're going to drink yourself dry if you keep at it."

The incandescent lighting of the vacant conference room seemed to flicker eerily upon his arrival. My eyes swerved to the half glass of wine by my side and I licked my lips, feeling the lingering taste of the red-richness. Things always seemed to go this way now; my drinking into the night with a glass of red as company in place of a man I'd much rather defenestrate than entertain. One could even say I was starting to bore from this routine.

The message that my subconscious was sending my brain was to get up and get out. Instead, I did what I always did. Like every other time I had to face him, I took a deep breath and pushed my seat back into a slow spin, using the seconds I'd gained to pull my lips into a ready, polite smile.

"Devin. Charming as ever, I see."

His thin blonde hair was gelled back neatly, prompting me to wonder if he had a handy little mirror in his pocket to fix himself up at every possible moment. I had grown accustomed to his unannounced visits in the office; the sight of his unnaturally shiny forehead, hook nose and irritating dimpled smirk. Yet as much as I wished to erase the sight of him from my peripheral vision, I had to admit Devin had this inexplicable skill of looking fresh as ever which was the least I could say for myself.

"Mind if I join you?"

It wasn't a question. It never was but this time, I made it a point to say something rather than spend the next couple hours hearing him rattle on about his extravagant beach house where I was always invited to 'drop in'.

"I do, actually." Crossing one leg over the other, I tilted my head back toward the mess behind me. "I've got work to do."

A flicker of disappointment crossed his eyes but he covered it up with a smile. "I see."

"Besides, shouldn't you be calling it a night? Deborah mentioned a little something about your early meeting tomorrow with TransCom. You should get your beauty sleep."

With those words, I spun back around and continued to sift through the sheets in front of me, not paying heed to the shuffle of nervous feet behind me and his awkward goodbye. It wasn't until I confirmed his retreating footsteps that I let out my breath, something that did not go missed by the one other person in the conference room.

"That was brutal."

I sighed, dropping the reports in my hand and shot Rita sour look. "Was I being a bitch?"

"Not more so than usual," she said, shooting me a small smile. "Why don't you just go out with the poor guy and sate his wild, hormone-ridden fantasies of you?"

"Because that would go against every fiber of my being. Besides," I shot a cursory glance over my shoulder at Devin's retreating figure down the hall, "he's not my type."

"You say that about every guy that wants you," Rita muttered. She stood up and shut the screen of her laptop, peering at me with a mix of irritation and concern on her face. I ignored her and reached for the half-full glass of wine by my side. The familiar trickle and slight burn of the drink provided a slight distraction from our current conversation but it wasn't long before Rita continued her patronizing, this time making her way over to me.

"Drinking that isn't going to help the hunger between your legs. Besides, Devin's right. You might be turning into an alcoholic."

My eyebrows rose. "It's wine, Rita."

She grabbed my hand before I could take another sip, setting the glass down firmly on the table. With knitted brows and a slow frown making its way across her face, I knew she wasn't fooling around.

"How long has it been Tris?"

I rolled my eyes. "A woman's self-worth does not depend on how many hickeys she got the previous night."

Her nails dug into my skin. Oh yeah, that was going to bruise. "How long?" she repeated.

The smile slipped off my lips. "Two years now."

Rita let go, sadness crossing her face. I hated it, knowing I was the object of her pity.

"You know, you're not doing yourself a favor taking the path of abstinence." 

"I love my job. There's nothing wrong with that."

"Hey, I'm all for career-powered women okay? But if you're going to sacrifice your sex life because of some guy, thinking that a job will replace all you had before-"

"Not just any job Rita. This is my life. I love myself and I love how things are now. "

Her mouth pulled into a thin line. Rita watched me, unblinking before letting out a sigh and a 'I tried' shrug. "Well alright, Oprah. Just keep in mind that you aren't getting any younger and those," she eyed my chest, "won't always stay perky."

"Thanks for the tip. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do."

Rita hopped off the table and assembled her things together, no doubt calling it a night. The circles beginning to appear beneath her eyes spoke volumes on part of her exhaustion. Mine would too, had I not mastered the art of sleeplessness.

"It's nearing midnight, Tris," she trilled, like a mother trying not to sound too bossy.

"I know," I replied, with a childish grin.

Rita rolled her eyes, and with one last wave and snooty remark, cleared the room. I watched the glass door swing shut, and the lights in the corridor dim almost to complete darkness moments after her leave. No one else would be sane enough to stay this late in the office. No one but me, that is.

My eyes scanned the scattered contents of the table in front of me. Months worth of marketing and financial reports, all meant to help me close another deal for the company. It hadn't been easy, getting myself here. It's funny to think that only years ago, I had joined this company as an introverted, less-than-capable intern. Now, I was more popularly known as 'head bitch' of the office, rather than by youngest Senior Marketing and Sales Executive.

A vibration on the table-top broke my line of thoughts. I picked up my phone and let out an immediate sigh.

So...where are we on that beach house? You never gave me your answer.

"Really, Devin..." The guy just wouldn't give up. He had been pursuing me ever since I'd been promoted months ago to the head office. One night, I had made the mistake of letting him 'support' me in a sales meeting with one of our clients which had ended up in disastrous consequences. Then, he had suggested we drink away our sorrows and although it was my head on the line, it was Devin that got piss-ass drunk. I had to drive him all the way home and rub his back when he puked his livers out, which, trust me, wasn't a pretty sight. The only reason he still had the job was because he was family to Deborah. I couldn't even begin to see how that streak of genius was related to, well...this.

I typed a quick reply and set the phone down. Barely a minute passed by when another bzzt sounded.

I guess that can't be helped. :-) What about dinner tomorrow night?

Locking the screen, I turned back to the reports. Numbers and percentages jumped out at me from on the page and as much as I wanted to push myself on, I really wasn't up to it for the night.

It couldn't be helped. I needed another drink.

Mid-way through a refill, my phone set off again.

"I swear to all that's holy, I-oh." It was Deborah. I answered the call immediately. "Yes?"

"Go to sleep, Henderson."

"Now you're calling me out to mother me? Really, Deborah-"

"Forget the meeting with the board tomorrow. I'll be handling that. I need you to take charge of something else now."

I perked up in my chair. "I'm listening."

"Remember the discussion I had with you about the board wanting to expand our clientele due to the limited growth rates and dividend yields of the company for the past couple years?"

"Vividly."

"Well, a target has opened up and I need you to sniff out the deal."

"Which company are we talking about here?"

"Innovus."

I started to shake my head. "I see why they would be your best shot but I don't think that's a good idea. Firstly, their line of consultancy is completely different from our own."

"It's what we call diversification," Deborah replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "Besides, I'm not asking you for your opinion here. The board is fixated on Innovus so I'm assigning this to you."

"Alright, alright. I'll start piecing things together tomorrow. You'll have a proposition on your table by Saturday, tops."

"That's not what I need you to do. Innovus is holding an informal party of sorts tomorrow evening. I need you to slip in and scope out an idea of what their situation is."

I stopped packing up my things for a second as confusion struck.

"That isn't in my job description," I answered blankly.

"Come on, Tris. You've done this before."

"For our clients. They never bare their fangs at us."

I could tell my putting up an argument wasn't doing too well with Deborah as she let out an exasperated sigh. Before she could get another word in, I re-worded everything she was asking me to do to make her hear how ridiculous it really was.

"You're asking me to go under-cover to one of our competitor's cocktail parties, make nice talk with their fancy-coats and basically use under-handed means to find out whether or not the company is vulnerable enough for us to pounce and take-over."

"Precisely." Deborah paused for a short while, not even seemingly fazed whatsoever by the situation she was putting me in. In a slightly encouraging purr, she added, "If you need help, I can afford to send Devin with you."

"Naw, I'm good," I muttered, closing my eyes in frustration. "So where's this party at?"

"Washington D.C."

My eyes flashed, mouth falling open in sheer surprise.

Deborah's voice was practically dripping with smugness as she delivered her closing statement.

"Did I forget to mention that you've gotta fly for this one?"

And with that final blow, the line turned dead.

_____

Song: Trash Talking Love by The Ready Set (feat. Kitty)

Dedicated to goodblue for being my greatest inspiration and best friend. I love you. This story wouldn't be what it is without your support. <3