Chapter Text
“Hurry up!” Gelon hissed, peering through the blinds. Kassandra rifled through the drawer, searching through bundles of papers. “He’s pulling up.”
Kassandra’s hand met plastic, and she grasped it. She pulled free a box of chocolates and poured a bunch into her hand.
“Do you want one?”
“Fantastic fucking idea.” Gelon let the blinds go. “Our grumpy-arse manager walks in to the sight of his drawers open and chocolate around our mouths.”
Kassandra shrugged. She unwrapped a chocolate and shoved it into her mouth. The wrapper slipped and floated down to the floor.
“Oi!” Gelon hissed again, with growing urgency. He was probably in the lift by now. “Evidence! Go and put it in another department’s bin.” She chose instead to shove it into her pocket.
“Penance,” said Kassandra, rearranging the drawer, “for last week’s drama, and this week’s.” She shoved another handful into her trouser pockets before she left the crime scene.
Kleon used to lead the Acquisitions department, choosing which companies and properties to buy. In his day, he was great at it. Eventually, the times moved and he didn’t. Shares stopped rolling in, and the portfolio was stagnant. The company charts began to slope downwards. But he knew that it was better to be liked than to work hard. He was a friend of the CEO and the board were fond of him, so instead of letting him go, they simply dumped him at the helm of the marketing department. The worst place for a dinosaur.
As their manager, the pros were that he knew nothing about marketing. He couldn’t tell the difference between an ad and a post, and he was probably the type to google ‘Download more RAM’. If ever he caught Kassandra idle, it was easy to pull the wool over his eyes. The con was also that he knew nothing about marketing. Gelon and Kassandra spent half of their days doing nothing, and the other half rushing through projects they never knew they had.
He walked in with a huff and dropped his satchel to the floor, vaguely near his desk, but intrusive enough for someone to trip over. He rubbed his beady eyes. Probably heavy from drinking.
“Good morning, Kleon,” said Gelon. Kassandra could only make an affirmative noise, because she was still chewing one of his Lindt chocolates. “How was your weekend?”
“Where are we up to with the press release?” He grumbled. Here we go.
“Which one?” asked Kassandra, trying to hide her confusion. Kleon dropped his hand from his face with a sigh.
“The new company director.”
This was a new low, both terrible and golden. Perhaps in four months’ time they’d be talking about this at their desks instead of doing work, when they would routinely complain about something else Kleon had dumped on them. Remember when he didn’t even tell us there was a new director coming? The most senior in the company, only answering to the CEO? The person who’d decide on our budgets? They would roll their eyes and laugh, maybe, but they’d have to get through this week first.
“There’s a new director?” Gelon blinked. They didn’t even the old one was leaving. No wonder he hadn’t showed up today.
“I mentioned this last week.” He definitely didn’t. “Headhunted last Monday. The interview was only a formality, the board are very keen. Mr Diakos was fired on Friday evening. If our team doesn’t have something ready by the time she starts, they’ll want to know why.”
“When does she start, then?” Gelon asked. She’d done well to hold back her temper, but her tone was starting to slip. The minute he left, Kassandra knew there’d be a barrage of expletives, some of them would be her own.
“Tomorrow.”
“You want it done by tomorrow?” Kassandra piped up to give her colleague a rest.
“I want it done by lunch.”
“Kleon, we need high-resolution images, we need quotes, we need information,” Gelon began to rant. “At the very least, we need a name.”
“How hard can it be to write up some puff piece?” Kleon waved his hand to dismiss her, already making his way to the kitchen. “Her name is Aspasia Alexaki. I want a draft on my desk ASAP.”
***
“A new director?” If Barnabas’ cup wasn’t pressed against the rim of the water cooler, he might have dropped it. “Malaka! Nobody told me.”
“Shit,” Kassandra whispered. “I was hoping you might know something.” The old man was the company’s longest serving accountant, well respected in the office. But when you caught him in the right mood, he was a fountain of gossip. “We have to write a press release. Kleon wants a draft by lunch.”
“But you need to ask little old me for information?” Barnabas shook his head. “He’s no good, that Kleon. Waste of a massive salary.”
“Really?” Kassandra’s ears pricked up. “How much is he earning?”
“No, no, I’ve said too much. It’s confidential, see. A matter for payroll.”
“Oh, come on. I won’t tell anyone,” said Kassandra. The accountant threw a shifty look over his shoulder.
“Only a minor cut from his acquisitions job, to keep him happy. 150 thousand a year, I’ve heard.”
Kassandra scoffed. “And yet the company can’t afford to give me a raise.”
“Bullshit,” he said. “Get out while you can.”
Of course Kleon’s salary was astronomical, with his fictional workload. She would have loved nothing more than to walk out then and there, telling her manager where to stick his job her way out, but sadly she was there for a reason.
Six months ago she spent her workdays at the poolside, working as a lifeguard at her local pool. The people were nicer, and there wasn’t as much pressure to look busy. Every so often she would blow her whistle and shout at a child for dive-bombing, but it didn’t bother her.
But the hours weren’t long enough, and she shared an apartment with her mother. Their rent was climbing higher, and they weren’t pulling in enough money between them. She had to choose the first career that revealed itself. Now she had to deal with shit from men in their forties. Kosmos House felt like a prison, but it would be worse if she still had to come home to her mother over the water bill, fretting about how they would pay it.
She returned to her desk to find Gelon, who’d made herself at home, already occupying her workspace to rush through the draft.
“That was a long toilet break,” Gelon said. “Do you feel like doing some work now?”
“I was investigating!”
“Where, the toilet walls? You’ll only find your own details in those places.”
“Prick,” Kassandra playfully smacked her arm. “I was talking to Barnabas, to see if he knew anything.”
“Barnabas is great, but we need to be asking Google.”
And Google delivered. Aspasia had been married to Perikles, a successful politician who’d passed away earlier in the year. Before her marriage she was a model, but her newfound status had allowed her to move into business. She’d worked as a brand ambassador for a large fashion company, and now it seemed she was leaving her stylish image behind to move into.
Her career was impressive, but Kassandra’s attention was elsewhere. Aspasia was attractive. She had thick dark curls that shone when they caught the light, and dark intelligent eyes. Kassandra was a Tinder juggernaut, far from shy, but the thought of seeing this woman every day threatened to knot her stomach.
Kassandra let out a heavy sigh. She opened up a Google Doc and began to type.
This week, a hot new bombshell, enters the
“Kassandra!” Gelon shoved her, but she was grinning. “Don’t write that shit! You know they log our keystrokes.”
“You were thinking it.”
“Some fucking decorum would be nice, please.”
Kassandra unwrapped a stolen Lindt and placed it in Gelon’s hand. Gelon looked over her shoulder, then grudgingly ate it as Kassandra hid the wrapper. “Although bribes are fine.”
By lunchtime, they’d produced a rudimentary draft. A stolen image, a brief section about the new director’s career, and repeated insistence that the company were thrilled to have her. They added some stock quotes from Aspasia about how much she was looking forward to joining the company and continuing their growth, which would probably be approved for use later on.
Gelon dumped it on Kleon’s empty desk, and the two headed off for a very long lunch break.
***
Kassandra sat at the table, her elbow sticking to the layer of anti- bac that the waiter had left. She took a bite of her chicken wrap, eyeing the bottles at the bar wistfully. She wanted a large glass of wine, perhaps two, but Gelon might have drawn the line there. The woman had a mouth that would shock even a sailor, but she was Kassandra’s superior after all.
“Do you think she’ll get rid of Kleon?” Kassandra wondered out loud. “Aspasia, I mean.”
“Wishful thinking. Director or not, it would be a tough decision to get past the board.”
Just then, an email came through, bursting across their notification centres.
To: +Athens Office
From: Kleon Manetas
Subject: Theft
Unfortunately, items have been removed from my drawers without my say-so. Stealing, no matter how small, is a criminal offence. This instance has been reported to HR, and the situation will be closely monitored going forward.
If anyone has any information, please volunteer it to me.
Kleon Manetas
Head of Marketing
The two burst out laughing. Gelon shook her head.
“Wow,” Kassandra scoffed. “All that over chocolate?”
“Perhaps it’ll encourage him to sit at his fucking desk, instead of spending all day in the kitchen,” Gelon sneered. “But really Kassandra, don’t do that again. I can’t be dealing with the shit if he finds out. We should get back, anyway, see what he thinks of the draft.”
“Don’t say that. He’s going to say he doesn’t like it, without telling us why, and then I’ll have to spend all afternoon on a fresh one.”
“Best you start now, if you want to leave at five,” Gelon laughed. “You should go now, while he’s at his desk. If not, he’ll drop it on us later and we’ll have no time. Go ahead, I’ll pay the bill here. Sort me a transfer later.”
“Or we can expense it,” Kassandra jokingly suggested.
“Not a fucking chance.”
Kassandra made the depressing trip back across the road, then came the long journey up the stairs. She hated speaking to Kleon when nobody else was around. She tapped her fob and pushed the door open with her shoulder.
“What do you mean, he’s not booked a room?” Odessa banged her mouse on the other side of the reception desk. “Where is he?” Her furious eyes caught Kassandra, and she froze. “Kass, where’s Kleon?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I thought he was at his desk, playing CSI over his missing stuff. Have you looked under his desk? He might be dusting for footprints.”
“I’m not joking,” Odessa warned.
Kassandra shrugged. “Try the kitchen.” Not wanting to risk more of the receptionist’s temper, she swiftly walked away, relieved at least that she wouldn’t have to see her boss yet. She ambled down the walkway, catching a moment to look at her Instagram feed. But when she looked up, she rued the sight of Kleon’s empty desk. Stood over it was Aspasia herself.