PRJECT GEEK ~ CHAPTER 10
Hello awesome nerds and happy Saturday everyone!
I hope you all stay safe, that quarantine treats you well so far, and that you embrace this opportunity to spend more time inside, along with your loved ones, doing the things you weren’t able to do BC (before coronavirus).
I, for instance, have more time to read and write, and that reminded me that I haven’t posted a Project Geek chapter for a very long time.
For those of you who don’t know, Project Geek is a WIP I’ve been working on for some time now (on and off, to be honest, as TAC #2 and another secret WIP demand my full attention at the moment), set in a futuristic world where the net profits somebody makes are based on how beautiful those people are.
If you haven’t read the previous chapters, you can follow the link above to do so, starting from chapter 1, Ivy’s chapter. For the rest of you, sit back comfortably and enjoy Zac’s cockiness once more.
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Chapter 10
ZAC
Her last words run around my head time and again, despite the street’s buzzing, the people’s yelling and the cars’ honks.
I will still be a non-Phi person, while you on the other hand will practically save the world from those who want to reform it.
That’s what she just said. I really wish that would actually be the case. But I won’t be the one who’ll be praised if this internship program slash riots’ crackdown works eventually. It’ll be that piece of shit I’m obliged to call father, Mayor Stoneshire and the rest of the vultures in the government that will be lauded. Because, at the end of the day, I will still be Hudson’s son, who had an illegal plastic surgery. The government may not know about it, but Father does, and he’ll make sure I will never forget it. He’ll make sure I will never forget my place. I am a pawn in this strategy and dominance game he likes to play. I will keep being his pawn until he decides that he doesn’t need me anymore; that I’m useless to him.
I am about to cross the road when I see a black car coming straight towards me. Instinctively, I take a step back the pavement, while the characteristic stink of the tyres makes me cringe the moment the driver brakes. It’s impossible to see who sits at the driver’s seat through the nontransparent glass, but then I glimpse the car plate and I pout. The car slows down and pulls in right next to me. It takes me a second to blink, but then the door opens and I see Sabina sitting behind the wheel, all exposed, shapely legs and perky boobs.
Man! Why does that bitch have to be so fuckable? I wonder and try to avert my eyes from her breasts as quickly as possible.
I scowl at her, only to find her smirking at me.
“So,” she purrs, “how did it go, Zac?”
“Did you follow me here?” I snarl, indifferent to the fact that many heads, both Golden-Ratio-following and non-Phi ones turn towards our direction.
“I’m making sure you’re gonna uphold your end of the bargain, my little pookie bear,” Sabina says, her smirk turning into an actual, one hundred per cent malicious smile. Not that I would expect anything less from that goddamned Maleficent doppelgänger.
“Is that so?” I ask, walking closer to the car and putting my hands on the ceiling.
“Oh, it is so,” she says. “So, stop playing macho to me and get in the car. You may be the CEO, but I answer to daddy dearest and to him I shall get you.”
I glare at Sabina one last time before walking all the way to the co-driver’s door, opening it and sitting right next to the dratted bitch. I can only avoid the inevitable for that long. The news will go public at noon and I need to be back at the office to let that jackass father of mine know that I achieved what he wanted. Or at least I hope I have. Because if I haven’t…
I do not allow myself to go towards that path and simply glare at Sabina one last time. Then, I lock my gaze straight ahead as she starts the car.
“This is going to be fun,” Sabina chuckles.
I couldn’t disagree more.
***
“Is it done?” Father asks the moment Sabina opens his office’s door and we walk inside.
He doesn’t address me, but his lackey, that little tramp with whom I’m stuck until this whole farce of an internship comes to an end.
“Your son claims it is,” Sabina says and walks closer to the mahogany desk where Father sits, leaving me to stand alone at the centre of the office, like some kind of a convict that’s about to be judged.
Sometimes I wonder whether Sabina would have that kind of power and prestige in Bewitched Ink if she wasn’t hooking up with daddy dearest. I see her leaning on the black leather desk chair, that predator’s smile spreading once more upon her face, coming in complete contrast to Father’s blank one. It’s like apathy has become like a second nature to him, especially when I’m around.
“Can I trust you, Zachariah?” Father asks. “Did you make the right call?”
“I made the right call for me,” I snarl, if only to see whether this will hit a nerve.
Father hates it when I try to outsmart him or when I am sarcastic toward him, especially when there are others in the room, too. I can’t help it. I drink my coffee with a shot of cynicism every morning and, just like apathy has become father’s kind of defence, sarcasm has become mine.
His nostrils flare and that’s the only reaction that gives his irritation away. That son of a bitch doesn’t even blink as he takes a deep breath and says, “We’ll see about that.”
I expect him to say something, anything, on what comes to how we move forward from here. There’s more marketing and advertising to be done. There are people that need to be informed, marketing plans that need to be presented to the entire firm, non-Phi people that need to hear about the government’s plan to offer what will seem as equal rights to everyone.
It is only thanks to my dickhead father’s friendship with Mayor Stoneshire why we worked incognito before the government itself announced its plan and we got ourselves the cream of the crop; the Witty Liberal. Or at least I hope we did.
“Sabina,” Father says, ignoring me completely, as if I’m not even there, “go to the Marketing Department. Tell them to start working on the campaign for the non-Phis.”
“You got it, boss,” Sabina says and turns towards me, winking at me before exiting the office.
“And you Zachariah,” Father goes on, “go to your office and sit in front of your computer until that hideous terrorist gets back to you. I don’t want to hear a word until we have an email with her resume and her written agreement that she’ll help make our plan work.”
It’s not really our plan. It’s his plan. The government’s plan. But it is my salvation. And I’ll make sure Ivy Belcher sends her resume and she’ll agree to work at Bewitched Ink, even if I have to drag her out of that coffeeshop myself.
***
I don’t know how much time has passed. I could’ve been staring at my Mac’s screen for minutes, hours maybe, and yet… No new email. No email from Ivy Belcher specifically. And since she has my email and I was a dickhead, as per usual, not to ask for her personal one, too, all I can do is wait.
Then again, I can call at Mummy’s, pretend like I wanna place an order or something. The Marketing team is always hungry and they always ask for more coffee from whomever secretary they can find available. Brainstorming and creativity apparently fuel their cravings. I’ll look like the perfect, caring boss and…
No, that won’t work, I think.
I was at the coffeeshop a couple of hours ago, maybe more, maybe less, who knows, and it’ll seem odd in best case scenario if I call to place an order for the Bewitched Ink, desperate if I’m unlucky enough and either Belcher or, even worse, that possible boyfriend of hers picks up the phone and recognises my voice. Plus I’m sure I didn’t strike them as the type of dude who cares for his employees, regardless of what I said to Ivy. But I need her to come and work here. She has to!
“Sasha!” I bark.
Three seconds later and Sasha has opened the door, standing at the threshold of my office, her hair a red mess, eyes wide open, hands shaking, and yet, ever so fuckable.
“Yes, Mr. Hudson?” she says and, to my surprise, her voice doesn’t shake.
“Call at Mummy’s and order one double espresso for me, seven peanut butter strudels, five white chocolate donuts, an apple pie and an Amaretto Mochaccino for you, and ask them to bring the order here,” I say nonchalantly. “Send the fat explosion to the marketing department and just keep a strudel for me.”
“Right away, sir,” Sasha says and curtsies.
“G! You’ve been reading too many fantasy novels, with knights and desperate princesses lately,” I laugh at her. “That’s not even the type of books we publish here. We believe in fierce female voices and diversity. Didn’t they tell you?”
“Yes, Mr. Hudson,” she murmurs, her voice nothing but a whisper.
“Go!” I bark again. “My time is precious and there’s nothing I can do with you right now, considering that I have plenty of working hours ahead of me.”
Sasha flinches and steps back. With shaking hands, she reaches for the knob and pulls the door shut, leaving me once again alone in my office. With a little bit of luck, nobody at Mummy’s will get suspicious that I actually placed this innocent, yet big order, but Ivy Belcher will get a reminder of what she’s gonna lose if she’s not going to be sweet to me.
A notification rings, my Mac informing me that I have a new email. An email from the Witty Liberal herself.
I guess I’ll get both the sweets and that girl to work for me and make sure that my secret stays buried, I think and smirk as I open the email.
© Victoria Moschou. All Rights Reserved 2018-2020.
I look forward to reading all your thoughts, feelings and comments about this chapter in the comment section down below.
As this is a very early, rough draft, you can get as cruel as you want. Besides, this project won’t see the light of querying for a very long time, maybe ever.
Thank you all so much for stopping by once again. It means the world to me and I want you to know that I most certainly don’t take your presence here for granted; I never will.
Till next time… Toodles! 
