Chapter 238: 'Tis but a Fake

Eve pinched her new hair, sliding the strands between her fingers. It had never been this soft. The vibrant crimson color was familiar. She only needed to get used to seeing it everyday. The same had to be done with the hazel contacts. 

Her current residence would also be the apartment complex.

It was a complete life change overnight. It hadn't quite sunk in yet.

Or maybe the transition was natural that she hardly struggled.

Cale appeared behind her and grasped her upper arms. He propped his chin on her right shoulder, also staring at her reflection. "Well, what are we thinking?"

"It looks great!" Eve exclaimed. She gripped two handfuls of hair. "And it feels much better than my actual hair. I have to know about who owned this hair and did she take care of it."

"He."

"What?"

"The hair is from a he," Cale explained with a chuckle. "It's quite the story. Hairdressers had asked for his hair countless times but he wouldn't cut it. So, instead, he grew it twice the length he liked and donated the second half."

Eve could only raise her eyebrows. "That is quite the story."

"I'll be meeting Avery for lunch," her modelling manager announced. They faced away from the mirror and turned towards one another. "Take your time today. Familiarize yourself with your new life. Call us if you need anything."

"I will."

The first thing Eve did was visit the nearest grocery store.

It had a different layout from the one she and Andie frequented. Speaking of her best friend, Andie didn't take the news well in the beginning. Quitting was a huge life-changer and she refused to believe her false reason.

But Andie slowly came to terms with it and trusted Eve.

She also made the latter promise to reveal the real reason once it was safe.

The grocery shopping list contained the usual necessities plus ingredients for the picnic. There was still time to kill so Eve decided to cook. The menu included chicken pasta salad, ham & cheese sandwiches, slices of carrots, turnips & cucumbers and a fruit plate for dessert. It should be healthy enough for Ambryan's taste. 

The corners of her lips tugged down at the thought of him. 

'Had he read it yet?' She thought. Her grip tightened around the bottle of red wine vinegar. 'He must have. But why hasn't he contacted me yet?'

Eve would be lying if she said that she didn't mind it. Before this entire fiasco, they were co-workers first. They spent nearly everyday together for more than 8 hours a day. She expected that he'd at least contact her to know how she was doing.

Her forehead pressed against the bottle. 

A mutter flowed out of her lips. "Was the letter written for my resignation a little too much?"

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Ambryan reread the letter from his office.

It stated that Eve's reason was a personal matter she couldn't fully disclose—one that would hinder her ability to fulfill her tasks and complicate their working relationship and another that catered to her best interests.

The vague reasonings had him decoding the letter for a hidden message.

The possibility wouldn't leave his head. She could be in danger and used this to secretly communicate it. And how would Evangeline be involved in this? A way to hide? 

His mind continued to theorize around the resignation letter when a knock came from the door.

Riffle opened it halfway, carrying a mesh waste basket. His glasses flared under the light. The tips of his cropped black hair brushed his eyebrows. He had removed his suit jacket and walked around in a white dress shirt and black vest.

When he met Ambryan's stare, he cleared his throat. "Sorry to barge in, Sir Hathway. The janitor is making his rounds. Do you perhaps have anything in your trash bin? I can put it in this basket so it would be an easier clean up."

Ambryan shifted his attention to the waste basket. "Are those left by Eve?"

"I believe so." Riffle peeked into the trash. 

"Bring it here."

His head snapped up at the request. "E-Excuse me?"

"My secretary left without even contacting me first," Ambryan explained, reigning his impatience. He'd try anything if it had a chance of helping him find answers. "I want to be sure that she's not being threatened. It's highly possible given the recent fire."

Riffle immediately delivered the basket to his desk. "Understood."

Ambryan rummaged through the trash. Most of its contents were scrap papers and staple wires. He unfolded the first paper. Eve had crumpled it into a ball. It contained a list of tasks she needed to accomplish. The second one revealed doodles she drew to pass the time. 

But the third piece caught his interest immediately.

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Draft 1

August 1X, 20XX

Dear Sir Hathaway,

If you're reading this letter then, I must have already tendered my resignation. It's quite sudden I know. But, unfortunately, I can't stay here longer… I will only be a burden to you. It is in the company's best interest if I leave.

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Draft 3 

August 2X, 20XX

Dear Sir Hathaway,

If you're reading this letter then, I must have already tendered my resignation. I had thought about it a lot. You and the company mean a great deal to me but I believe it's time for me to move on and visit my hometown. I can only hope we can cross paths in the future. 

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Draft 6

September 1XX, 20XX

Dear Sir Hathaway,

I am writing to inform you of my resignation from my position as secretary at Eros Productions. I will be resigning due to financial issues. I had received a generous offer from another company and I had accepted it after careful consideration. It's been a pleasure working with you.

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Draft 7

September 2X, 20XX

Dear Sir Hathaway,

I have decided to leave the company due to my ever-growing feelings for you. I have broken the code of conduct you have set. Therefore, I am no longer qualified to be your secretary. This may be unprofessional but I wanted you to know the truth.

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Eve paused mid-chop of a cucumber. Her eyes flickered to her phone on top of the microwave. The clock hanging on the wall ticked by. Smoke floated from two pots of boiling water, fogging up the kitchen. Spices lined up at the back of the counter while utensils hung from a series of hooks.

She tsk-ed when no notification came. 

"Maybe I really shouldn't have made those fake letters. They might have been a little too overboard. People quit all the time!" She tried to convince herself, waving the knife around. "The reason can also be random! It doesn't mean that they'd be able to connect it to Jane."

Then, she sighed. "But it's still better to be safe than sorry."

The risk weighed heavily. The timing wasn't coincidence—even to someone like Jane Wilson. She'd easily guess that the resignation was due to their conversation. She may have backed Eve into a corner but the tables were turning.

From now on, Eve would climb her way to the top.

The gap between them would shorten in due time.

The sound of her ringtone broke Eve out of her daze. She dropped the knife on the cutting board and seized her phone, using the volume buttons to answer it. Her heart drummed loudly in her chest. 

"Sir Hathaway?" The words came out of her lips before she could process them.

The caller gave a snort. "No, it's Riffle."

"Oh, Riffle." Eve tried not to sound disappointed. She returned to chopping the cucumber into thin strips, cradling the mobile device between her ear and her shoulder. "How are things?"

"Good, good. You sent a highly detailed document on your daily work routine. It's easy to follow so I haven't needed to ask for your help yet." Riffle informed her. He sat on her old chair and swivled around. His back faced the desk. "We already gave your resignation letter like you asked. I also threw those fake letters for you in the waste bin which brings me to the reason why I'm calling."

Eve narrowed her gaze. "You didn't read them, did you?"

"You told me not to."

"So you didn't?"

"I didn't read them," Riffle assured her. He ran a hand through his hair.

She bit her inner cheek, unsure of where this was going. "Then, why are you calling?" 

"I wanted to know how you knew that Sir Hathaway would look into those scrap papers if I showed him?" Riffle questioned. Just remembering it made his jaw drop. It was incredible. He didn't even have to try and persuade the CEO to look into the basket.

Before Eve could say something, he cut it with another observation, "Oh, and one more thing. Why does the security guard downstairs flirt with you? Isn't he a married man?"

The picture of Darryl calling her only to have Riffle answer amused Eve. Laughter echoed inside the apartment until she laughed too hard for her to conjure a sound. Her temples began to throb with pain. 

Riffle groaned at her reaction. "Eve, it's not funny! He could be a creep!" 

The doorbell rang and Eve glanced in its direction. "I gotta go. Later, Riffle."

"Eve, don't you dare hang up on me—"

Giggles still rumbled out of her throat by the time she opened the door. One look and any sort of amusement flew out of her body. Her eyes fluttered countlessly as she verified if this was real.

"Ambryan!"