Chapter 2 - Do I Look Like I am Joking?

• “What’s in file 459M?” the towering, uniform-clad general asked me again. Wearing a forage cap, his back was to me. I couldn’t see his face, but judging from his built and the rigidness of his stance, I knew then who he was.
• My dear boss, Mr. Sebastian Lancaster.
• I sat in a chair with my hands bound by cuffs, resting on a table that had seen better days. A single light above my head aided me in focusing the imposing man. Walls around us were gray and dull and lifeless. Almost like his office in New York.
• I scrunched up my nose. Oh, wait. What was his question again?
• As if on cue, Mr. Lancaster the general and my current interrogator faced me with an expression as blank as the number zero.
• He damn had twelve stars in his uniform. Yes! I counted it all. Twelve! Who gets that kind of rank in this normal world? Apparently no one but my boss alone.
• ‘Again, answer me, what’s in file 459M?’ He placed a hand on the table and stared sharply at me. Sharp, by definition, if you meant icebergs ready to bury you on your deathbed.
• ‘I don’t know. I never saw its contents,’ I replied whilst lifting my chin up.
• He released a long, nasal sigh and rounded the table, all the while his gaze was still trained on me.
• I saw some flicker of admiration there, or was it just my imagination?
• ‘Do you know what I do to helpless women that lie?’ Mr. Lancaster asked when he stood inches close to me.
• I looked up at him, met his cold eyes with fierce determination and said, ‘No. Enlighten me.’
• ‘I let them work as an errand boy, with trousers and all.’
• I scoffed.
• ‘You’re joking.’
• Grabbing the back of my chair, he tilted it up, bringing me in the boundary of falling downward.
• ‘Do I look like I’m joking to you?’ He could well drown me with those sky-colored eyes. I wouldn’t care a damn thing.
• ‘If you’re not joking then so be it. Working as your boy wouldn’t hurt I guess,’ I told him, my mind already made up.
• ‘Oh, it will,’ he replied and despite how ghostly his grin appeared to be, I caught it with mischief. ‘It comes with a special chore.’
• ‘And what is that?’ I took in his scent. The scent of a male I’m supposed to avoid. Greatly. With all my strength.
• I guess that strength was nonexistent now when talking about my boss.
• ‘You’ll have to polish my rifles for me,’ he worded smoothly. ‘You are not afraid of guns are you? Long, hard and ready to explode anytime, any day.’
• I couldn’t help myself but ask, ‘Are we talking about metallic objects here, Mr. Lancaster, Sir? Or something else?’
• ‘Depends on how you understand it,’ came his riddle and then he pulled my chair down. ‘Now, talk! That’s an order!’
• I grinned at him this time.
• ‘How about we start polishing your rifles now?’
• Taken aback momentarily, he growled low, something between controlled hunger and rage, and then, in one swift motion, held my head up to meet his mouth.
• But where I stood now, I couldn’t be more confused. Where’s that tempting specimen of a man? Where’s that uniformed-clad general who wanted me to caress his rifles?
• Gone.
• And in his place, stood a man wearing a tuxedo, looking dashing as ever.
• My mouth dropped.
• Never had I ever dreamed I would be in the middle of a marriage ceremony with him.