Chapter 3

Ilana took a deep breath, checking herself out in the reflection of the glass doors. She received a bunch of judgy looks but she was way past being bothered by trivial things such as strangers opinions anymore.

The first day of the newest mission.

She pulled down the very uncomfortable pencil skirt once, smoothing out her bottle green shirt.

No matter how many times she’d worn the skirt - never once of her own choice - she could never get comfortable in it.

She finally pushed the doors open, stepping inside the gigantic lobby.

She clutched the file tightly, a little tell tale sign of her nervousness.

People walked past her as if she was invisible. Heels and boots clattered against the marble floor, a sea of blacks, browns and beige around her. 

She slid her file silently to the receptionist. The woman looked grateful at not having to go through the torture of small talk.

“Welcome to Meyer Enterprises. Please use this card for your attendance until you get issued with the permanent one. You'll have to report to the twentieth floor,” she said, voice too perfect to sound human.

“Thank you,” Ilana smiled, accepting the colorful plastic from her. It was the name of the company at the top with a small barcode at the bottom right.

She stood in front of the turnstile, scanning the barcode on her card using the scanner on the surface of the turnstile. The scanner beeped and the turnstile clicked.

She pushed the metallic bars, walking over to the other side.

There were two elevators side by side, bustling with people.

She pushed past the horde, finally managing to find space in the elevator before the door closed.

Twentieth floor.

She stepped outside on a floor much similar to the lobby. Except this one was quieter, more organized.

She held her head high, her back straight, not letting any of the nervousness seep into her posture.

One last second of being Ilana before she became someone else.

When she stopped in front of the reception, this one manned by a girl around her age, she looked timid and scared and totally inexperienced.

“Hi, how can I help you?” the girl asked, her smile bright and too honest.

Maybe she'd only just started, Ilana thought. There was no other explanation for why a girl would look genuinely happy while being forced to greet strangers.

Ilana glanced at the name tag pinned to her chest.

“Hi, Nancy,” she said, sliding her file towards her unsurely. “I'm.. um.. My name is Rosie and I'm new here. I was hoping you could find someone to show me around or just tell me where I'm supposed to go?”

Nancy nodded enthusiastically.

“Hello Roise” she said. “We’re so excited to have you. And don’t worry, I‘ll introduce you to Izumi. She’ll be more than happy to show you around.”

Ilana tried to smile but it looked more like a grimace.

She was Rosie now, a girl with a normal childhood, a girl who lived without a worry in her life. A girl who knew happiness.

Helene often praised her for the level of perfection with which Ilana pulled off all her roles, be it a weak, whimpering housemaid or a woman riddled with self doubts or insecurities.

She molded into her characters’ life as if it were her own, everything about her shifting, changing, evolving.

But Ilana didn’t agree with Helene. If she was perfect like Helene had said, she would’ve managed to shed off her old self completely.

She wouldn’t bring the broken, torn pieces of Ilana with her in every role she played. She wouldn’t recoil at unwanted touches if she truly were Rosie. She would be able to sleep properly, to get rid of the nightmares that plagued her if she really was doing a good job of being someone else.

Ilana gifted her demons to every woman she became.

She was knocked out of her thoughts by someone waving a hand in front of her face.

She blinked and turned towards the girl. Izumi, she guessed.

The first thing she noticed about Izumi was the vibrant mop of red hair that was tied in a loose braid. 

If she were Ilana, she would have scanned Izumi without shame, nitpicking all the little details and then fleshing those details out to see what they could tell her about Izumi's background. Then she would have turned to Izumi’s hair with her nose turned up, her disgust visible.

But she wasn’t, so she kept her judgment to herself.

Instead, she increased her pitch and grabbed Izumi's hands.

“Oh my God, your hair looks so cool,” she squealed. “I've always wanted to dye my hair red.’

Izumi, thank whatever power there was, didn’t look creeped out by her cringy behavior. Quite the opposite really.

“Aww, thank you so much. I absolutely love your dress as well. You look stunning. I’m Izumi, by the way,” she said, holding out her hand.

Liar, Ilana wondered bitterly. Her outfit was hideous.

“Thank you. I’m Rosie,” she said, grabbing her outstretched hand in a firm handshake.

“Okay, Rosie. Let's give you your tour,” Izumi said excitedly.

She grabbed her elbow and began dragging her towards the center of the room. 

The floor was gigantic, separated into three different sections. Each boundary was marked by a huge glass wall and within the wall were more cubicles.

“We have most of the important people on this floor. The left corner,” she said as she opened the door and stepped inside. “Is HR.”

HR alone would have been larger than Ilana's apartment.

“You hopefully won't have any work here but these people are nice,” she said and then leaned closer, whispering, “and friends in HR always come handy.”

Ilana widened her eyes and nodded enthusiastically at Izumi’s words.

It was nice to know she was selling the ‘inexperienced yet willing to learn’ part of Rosie well enough.

Izumi then stepped outside and started walking quickly towards the other end of the room, the right hand area, also separated by a glass wall.

“This is where we'll be,” she said, pulling her in. “Let me show you your cubicle.”

Ilana arranged her face in a picture of excitement, blocking out Izumi's voice.

She only cared about those two separate offices that weren't enclosed in glass walls, standing out starkly against the claustropic environment of the rest of the floor.

“Who are the offices for?” She asked, cutting her off easily.

She knew who the offices were for but she needed the exact location of Adam Meyer's office.

“Oh, we have the CEO and the COO on our floor. How cool is that?” 

“So cool,” Ilana squealed. 

Point to the office, Izumi.

As if listening to her silent wish, Izumi pointed towards the slightly larger office.

“That's Adam Meyer's office. He'll be here in a while. He's a little strict but otherwise, pretty awesome.”

Ilana nodded, keeping her eyes wide and interested.

“And that's Calix Meyer's. Adam's son.”

A jolt ran through Ilana. Her target, Josephine Meyer, had a son working in the same building and same floor as her and she didn't know. 

What was Helene thinking, keeping this crucial information to herself?

It was true Ilana never did her own research on missions but she trusted Helene with it. Helene cared about her business too much to f*ck it up this badly.

“But he never ever shows up. So, the office mostly remains empty.”

Oh.

Someone walked over towards Izumi, whispered something in her ear and her expressions turned alert.

“I was just telling Rosie about him. I can't believe it,” she said to the man. The man smiled at Ilana and then left.

“What is it?” she asked, on high alert herself.

“Calix Meyers, the one who never came here before, is coming right now.”

“Oh, that's nice,” she said, looking mildly interested.

Inside, she was bursting with anticipation. None of them had seen this coming. Helene might have thought the son was useless because he didn't show up but if he was here, he could prove very helpful.

Ilana noticed the rush of excitement that went through the floor on the mention of the Meyer boy. 

She stood still, her eyes alert.

Even chaos on twentieth floor was organized. There were hushed whispers and muted footsteps as people speed walked to get things - and their appearances - in order for the boss.

She waited with bated breath. The elevator clicked and a bunch of people stepped out.

The person in the middle was flanked by three people on each side, as if he was a celebrity being shielded from the paparazzi.

Ilana changed her position, desperate for a glance.

Her heart dropped to the bottom of her stomach when she finally saw his face.

It was the guy from the bar. The one Ilana had been subconsciously searching for two weeks.