6. Orion

6

ORION

Y esterday, Matthew finally caved. Two thousand dollars had been the magic number. Good riddance. I had to admit I was getting a little less patient with the game. I used to start with small bribes, like a hundred dollars, and slowly work my way up. Lately, I was so over the whole ordeal that I bumped the number to something ridiculous after one or two attempts.

Sometimes, I was lucky enough to get a day or two of peace when I got a Hate Notes employee fired. I liked to imagine I was causing Patricia Rosh, their CEO, a great deal of annoyance. After all, she was constantly forced to hire, replace, and train new employees. If I was lucky, maybe it was even making a dent in their finances.

"Proud of yourself, aren't you?" Remmy asked.

Remmy's outfit was eccentric today, even by her standards. She wore a wide-brimmed hat and a sundress along with a jean jacket covered in random pins and badges. Even the idea of thinking that hard about what to wear gave me second-hand stress.

"No," I said. "Just hoping today will be peaceful. And the disappointment of my enemies brings me happiness."

She snorted out a laugh. "That's a bit dramatic. Don't you think?"

We rounded the corner, and I saw the usual crowd. To my annoyance, I also saw a Hate Notes employee. A woman, this time, huh? So much for a few days of peace. I just got Matthew fired yesterday. Patricia was working fast this time.

It was also much more common for them to send men after me. The women tended to fold even more easily. Remmy said it was because they wanted to get in my pants, but I doubted that. Usually, the first word either gender used to describe me was scary, just how I preferred it. People bothered me less that way. When people bothered me less, I could focus on what mattered without distraction.

"Look, they found a replacement already!" Remmy said happily.

"So it seems," I said, walking up to the steps of my building.

The girl was wearing the red Hate Notes uniform and the hat, but even their garish colors couldn't completely diminish her impact. She carried herself with an easy grace that seemed at odds with her role as a messenger of spite. Brown hair fell in waves past her shoulders, and her eyes were an unusual shade of amber-brown that caught the morning light. She was small—barely reaching my shoulder—but something in her stance suggested she'd never once considered that a disadvantage. Most striking was the defiant look on her face, the slight upturn of her full lips that I wasn't sure I liked.

Why was she looking at me like that? They usually started a little timid and nervous. This girl looked like she was looking forward to her task. Something about her energy made her impossible to dismiss, though I found myself wishing I could.

I spared a glance at the crowd, most of which were holding up phones to film.

Fucking vultures.

"Good morning," I said as the girl approached with a thick stack of notecards.

I noticed her fingernails. A nail chewer, too? Charming.

She raised her eyes to meet mine. I finally saw just a hint of nerves in her features. "You've been served thirteen Hate Notes today, and I'll be?—"

"Cut the speech," I said. "I'm prepared to offer you a thousand dollars to walk away. I'll give you two thousand immediately if you agree to quit your job."

Why was I starting with such a large bribe? Maybe part of me worried that the defiant spark in her eyes was trouble. Or maybe I thought this girl would be better to get rid of quickly?

She blinked. "Um. No. You're going to hear these."

Hm. I had started with a higher number than usual, and the woman had barely blinked. "What's your name?" I asked.

"Ember," she said, clearing her throat as she held up her stack of cards and began to read. "You're arrogant, think your shit doesn't stink, and take joy in costing people their jobs. You should be ashamed of yourself."

I leaned forward, glancing at the card she was pretending to read from. "That card is blank..." I said.

Ember smiled up at me. It was a crooked, mischievous smile. "Yeah. That one was a personal Hate Note from me. You'll get a free one daily so long as I'm your delivery girl."

She had a somewhat raspy, deep voice that was unusual but interesting. If nothing else, it wasn't the worst voice to hear for a few mornings.

"That's not how this works," I said tightly.

"No? What will you do, call my boss and get me fired? I'm sure she's really worried about your satisfaction, Mr. Foster."

Unfortunately, she had a very good point, even if I wasn't about to admit it. Knowing her employee was pissing me off would probably only make Patricia give the girl a raise. So she was defiant and clever. Wonderful.

I folded my arms, waiting for the woman to get it over with.

Ember smiled a little again. I could practically feel the vultures eating this up, and it pissed me off.

She flipped her blank notecard to the back and read the next one.

"You get this wrinkle between your eyebrows when you're mad," she said. "And your tie is boring."

I snatched the notecard off the top of the pile. It was blank again. "I don't have time for this bullshit," I snapped.

Ember grinned. "Sorry. I must've put two blank ones in here by mistake. I was just rolling with it." She watched me briefly, eyes narrowing as if something was on my face.

"What?" I snapped.

"Your nostrils flare when you're mad, too."

"I'm done with this," I said, storming up the stairs.

"Hey," Remmy said. "You're not even going to say bye?"

"Bye," I snapped.

Ember jogged after me. "Miss Rosh said you might storm off. She said I can follow you into the office, though. I guess I just have to finish reading before we reach your floor. So... speed reading time!"

She started reading a Hate Note as we walked in through the lobby.

I glared hard, scattering nosy employees standing around, hoping to listen in.

Didn't they have work to do?

Ember read the note in an annoying loud voice. I was pretty sure the entire lobby could hear.

"Dear Mr. Foster,

Remember when your chair kept breaking? It was because I loosened the screws every day when you went to get lunch. You deserved it. Maybe next time someone asks you for a replacement chair, you'll have a little more sympathy. Prick bag.

Oh, I also bought the screwdriver on my company card.

Hatefully yours,

A former employee"

"Wow," Ember said. "Too cheap to buy people new chairs, but you'll pay thousands so you don't have to hear these notes? That's kind of sad, isn't it?"

I jammed the elevator button, hoping it would come quickly today. Like most of these notes, the employee sending it was delusional. If they needed a new chair, I would have certainly seen to it. They probably didn’t send their complaint through the proper channels and it never reached me.

"We're not making small talk," I said.

"No? You prefer big talk?"

"I prefer no talk."

"That's fine. You can just use your listening ears, then." Ember lifted another note.

"Mr. Foster,

“I hate working here. I hate you. I hate the tie you wear every second Thursday of the month. It looks like mustard, and I like to pretend it's a big, stupid mustard stain you got on yourself from eating hotdogs during your lunch break like a weirdo. You like that? Hm? You like knowing I'm thinking that? Bet you don't. GOOD. The only thing that gets me out of bed in the mornings is knowing that humans are mortal. So if you're actually a human and not a robot with no soul, one day, you'll die. That brings me happiness.

“Sincerely, one angry human being"

"Okay," Ember said. "That one got kind of dark. What the hell do you do to people, anyway?"

"I require them to work hard every day, and I don't coddle them. Some people can't handle that."

The elevator finally dinged, and the doors slid open. I stepped inside and jammed the close door button, but Ember slipped in beside me.

The woman smelled like lavender soap. She positioned herself in front of me as if planning to keep me from leaving the elevator when I reached my floor. I'd like to see all five foot nothing of her try. I turned my head to the side, trying to pretend she didn't exist.

"So you really wear the same tie every second Thursday of the month? That's... a little strange, isn't it? Do you have OCD or something? Or are you just one of those people who says you have OCD, but you actually prefer things to be neat or have one little quirk that's vaguely reminiscent of OCD but totally not actual, clinically defined OCD."

I stared at her. "Is there something wrong with you?"

"Nope," she said cheerily. "But it's okay. We can work on this whole small talk, big talk thing. We'll get there with time."

"We're not going to get anywhere," I said, voice cold.

She glanced at the elevator number, which was steadily increasing. "I'd say we're going up. You and me, Mr. Foster. We're on the way up. Together," she whispered dramatically.

Nobody talked to me like this. They were too scared to fuck with me. Something had to be wrong with Ember. Was her ability to feel fear broken? How the hell did she survive? Did she also walk in front of moving cars, pet lions, and swim with sharks?

"We're not going to have time to work on anything," I clarified. "Because today or tomorrow, I'll name a price, and you'll take it. Because you're apparently desperate enough to take this ridiculous job instead of contributing to society. Because I have something you want, and you'll happily take it once I offer you enough."

Something flickered in Ember's eyes. Defiance? Anger? Excitement? "Okay," she said sweetly.

"Okay?" I asked.

"What's the point in arguing with you, Mr. Foster? Why don't we just let things happen and see if they play out how you think they will? It sounds fun."

I felt my nostrils flaring and noticed her eyes focus on them. I tried to will them to stop it, along with the tension I felt between my eyebrows.

Ember's full lips twitched at the corners. "This is a long elevator ride, isn't it? Long and tense... Just how I like it."

Was this woman seriously...

The door dinged.

I had to use the back of my hand on Ember's shoulder to nudge her out of my way.

I turned and raised a palm to stop her from stepping off the elevator.

"You're not allowed on this floor," I said.

"See you tomorrow. Meet out front like this morning again? It's a date," she said, twinkling her fingers.

Once the doors closed, I let out a heavy breath and ran my hand through my hair.

Ember... The image of her haughtily confident smile was burned into my unfortunately picture-perfect memory.

What was she angling for? There had to be something. Anybody desperate enough to work a shit job like being a Hate Notes employee would jump at the chance for a few thousand dollars to not do their job. I knew because I watched dozens of them get fired for smaller bribes.

Ember was different somehow. I supposed it didn't really matter. She would have a price, and I would find it. They all had a price.