Amy's fingers swiftly moved across her keyboard. She was in focus mode and her eyes darted about following every command she was executing to ensure perfection. There was no room for error. "I can't believe I missed my breakfast because of this idiot." She spoke through her Bluetooth headsets.
She always used a voice changer so what Dylan heard was the familiar deep voice of his boss. He never knew the identity of his boss but his admiration surpassed his curiosity. The amount of trust he had in her was unfathomable. From when he was chosen by her to be her assistant, she has been training him to implement her ways. The digital world was a vast universe. It did not just require knowledge you gained from school, but you had to be a genius to bend things to your will like Amy does.
So she started with supervising him in small tasks. As he improved, she would let him take on tasks by himself. Currently, she had been letting him observe and learn as she worked on complex tasks. Although he was already at a level where he would take on harder tasks, he was miles away from his master's level. For someone to learn and understand Amy's ways, one had to be a genius and she knew this about Dylan.
"This guy would have made some serious money if not for you." He chuckled in amusement.
Someone had hacked a certain government agency's system and planted a virus to lock them out. The virus had started to corrupt important files while they were locked out. Then he asked for a ransom and threatened to steal and trade all the confidential data if they don't pay for the ransom. The government agency contacted her for help.
Amy hated these kinds of people. They were simply hooligans getting ahead of themselves and trying to make quick money. So she was eliminating the virus, recovering the files and rebuilding the system while tracking the scumbag's location. With her masking skills, the hacker was unable to detect her presence.
As she shared her screen with Dylan, he could not help but watch in awe. He was currently in the lounge of his hotel room with his laptop on his lap. He was always amazed. All that was missing was some popcorn. When his boss was not annoying him, he was really cool.
"And... done! All that's left is system reboot. They should have apprehended him by the time it's done", she groaned while stretching her arms.
Dylan applauded from his end in awe. He felt so proud to work for such a great person. "Boss! You never disappoint!"
"Mm. Should I apologise for stealing you away from someone?"
"Boss, being on vacation doesn't mean I'm always sleeping around."
"Gee, what do we make of the woman sleeping in your bed right now?" She watched as the system rebooted. Dylan almost choked on his saliva when he heard her sarcastic comment.
"Boss! There's this thing called privacy!" He frantically looked around as he pulled on his bathrobe.
"Don't worry Dylan, I have no intention of spoiling my eyes by seeing your baby penis." Her tone was dry. Dylan felt so irritated.
"It's no-"
Beep. Beep. Beep.
She had terminated their connection. He felt like hurling his headphones against the wall. Why does this man always mock him? Baby penis? He peeped through his bathrobe. 'This is one hell of a monster. Girls weep and beg for this.'
He looked over his shoulder from the sofa he was sitting on to see the blond woman sleeping in his bed. He smirked when he remembered how she begged to have his 'monster' when he was teasing her. What is his boss talking about? Those quick to insult others usually are indirectly airing their short-comings.
'Hehe, SHORT CUMMINGS!' He sniggered at his dirty little joke. 'I'm hot and funny, damn I'm too perfect!'
Amy had accidentally terminated the call when she was trying to take down an article notification on her screen. Her chest tightened and she let out a huge breath with her eyes closed to ease her complex emotions when she remembered whom the article was about.
She had to steel her heart to discard it hastily and instead notified the agency of the work done. They sent her the remaining deposit plus a huge 'thank you' in the form of a few more zeros added to the final deposit. She could not even pretend to be happy at this point and got out of bed instead.
She took a hot bath to ease the tension in her muscles and her sour mood as well. She threw on a huge shirt and booty shorts before going to the kitchen. It was close to lunch hour and she was craving a chicken meal. She settled for a stir fry and took out her ingredients. She connected her phone to a Bluetooth speaker and played happy songs to distract her thoughts starting with 'Brave by Sara Bareilles' as she prepped her ingredients. This song choice is quite ironic, she thought, as she listened to it but she sung it anyway.
She let the chicken cook while stir frying the veggies. The aromas from the green pepper and other greens made her stomach rumble. She lifted the lid of the chicken pot and dropped it immediately to rush to the bathroom. She fell in a hunched over position as she threw up in the toilet bowl. She had never felt so insanely sick. Was the chicken spoiled? But she just bought it over the weekend while she was with Stella. Why do I feel so sick?
She rinsed her mouth and flushed away the contents. She had to check the chicken. She walked back out. The moment she stepped into the kitchen, a strong wave of nausea washed over her form and she was back in the toilet.
Throwing up so much left her feeling weak so she dragged herself back to bed. She just stayed there unmoving, trying to regain her energy. 'That chicken must be really bad', she mused. Her phone started to ring and she picked up when she saw the familiar name.
"Emily dear, are you home?" Stella's cheery voice resounded over the phone.
"Yes, the door is open."
Hearing the woman's weak voice, Stella rushed over with a casserole dish in hand. She opened the door and had no time to look around as her nose was attacked by the smell of burning food. She rushed to the kitchen and turned off the stove. She was starting to worry, "Emily?"
"I'm in my room." Her voice was weak. Since the house design was similar to hers, Stella easily found her way to the girl's room. She lay in a fetal position and her face had lost color. Amy heard her rush to her side and touch her forehead.
"I think I bought rotten chicken. It smelled so terrible while I was cooking that I threw up so much."
"Aw. This is terrible. If I didn't call, would you have even let me know? You should call me no matter what time it is that you don't feel well." Her voice was stern than usual that Amy subconsciously nodded. Satisfied, Stella helped her sit up and pointed at the casserole dish, "I made some lasagna."
"I don't think I can ea.....", Her voice faltered when her nose was teased by the pleasing aroma. Her stomach growled in anticipation. Her face turned beetroot red from embarrassment and she avoided the older woman's gaze. Stella held back a giggle upon seeing this. Emily is too cute.
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