“Professional”
INTRODUCTION
FLORANCE ROSS
“I belive in justice harrison”
“Money can even buy your justice florance”
Episode One
“First impressions”
London was freezing.
September had barely begun, yet the city already seemed to be preparing for winter. Everyone walked around in thick coats and scarves pulled halfway over their faces, trying to protect themselves from the cruel London cold.
Inside L&X Corporation, however, the atmosphere wasn't much warmer.
Mostly because of Harrison.
Harrison had only been working at L&X for eight months. He was still a junior assistant lawyer himself, nowhere near a position of authority.
But being one of Mr. Peterson's favourites came with certain privileges.
Like being asked to check on everyone else.
Mr. Peterson called it a simple “routine check.”
The employees called it a nightmare.
Harrison walked through the office in black formal trousers and a black shirt, his expression serious as his eyes moved from one desk to another.
He wasn't the most senior person in the office.
He wasn't even close.
But there was something about his seriousness and the confidence with which he carried himself that made people straighten in their seats whenever he passed.
“Everyone is on time today, I see,” Harrison remarked.
Nobody answered.
They knew his rule.
If you were even a minute late, you didn't come in.
Not because Harrison had made the rule.
Mr. Peterson had.
Harrison simply enjoyed enforcing it.
He continued down the row of desks until he noticed an empty chair.
He stopped.
“Who's late?”
The secretary at the front desk immediately checked the register.
“Miss Ross Florence,” she replied. “She's supposed to join today. Assistant lawyer in the Defence Department.”
Harrison raised an eyebrow.
“I see.”
His eyes returned to the empty desk.
“Late on her first day.”
The secretary lowered her gaze again, wisely choosing not to comment.
Then—
Ding.
The elevator doors opened.
Harrison looked up.
A young woman stepped out.
She wore brown wide-leg trousers with a brown-and-white checkered shirt, a long brown coat protecting her from the cold, and a brown bag slung over her right shoulder.
Her hair was loose and slightly tousled from the weather, with a few stubborn snowflakes still clinging to the ends.
She walked towards the reception desk, completely unaware that someone had already noticed her absence.
“Hi,” she said politely. “I'm Ross Florence. I'm here for the Defence Department.”
The secretary's eyes flicked nervously towards Harrison.
Florence followed her gaze.
And stopped.
Harrison stood a few feet away, his hands in his pockets.
He glanced at his watch.
8:07.
Then he looked back at her.
“You're late.”
Florence turned her head towards the voice.
“Excuse me?” she asked, confusion evident on her face.
“Unfortunately, Miss Florence, there's a rule in our department. Nobody enters after 8:05. You're two minutes late. Last check-in time is 8:05.”
Florence let out a small, disbelieving chuckle and rolled her eyes.
“I entered the building at 7:48, but security had an issue with the pepper spray in my bag. I had a ten-minute discussion with them.”
“Not my problem, Miss Florence. You can join from tomorrow.”
He said it as though he had just announced a verdict, pointing towards the elevator for her to comply.
“I am on time. It's your security's fault,” Florence argued.
“You should've listened to them. Why bring a damn pepper spray into a high-class building?”
“Because creeps are everywhere!”
Harrison stared at her.
Florence stared right back.
Neither seemed willing to back down.
Then the door at the end of the hallway opened.
“What's happening?”
The entire department seemed to straighten at once.
Mr. Peterson stood in the doorway, a man in his forties dressed in an all-blue suit with a red tie.
Harrison immediately straightened.
“Sir, she's late. I was simply explaining the rules,” he said, gesturing towards Florence.
He knew better than to over-explain.
Mr. Peterson hated it.
“I see.”
His eyes moved between the two of them, taking in the situation.
“Miss Ross? Late on your first day?”
“I got stopped by security over pepper spray,” Florence explained.
Mr. Peterson nodded.
“Alright. But only an exception on the first day.”
Harrison's eyes flicked between them.
They knew each other.
That much was obvious.
“Alright, Harrison. Show her around.”
Mr. Peterson turned towards the department.
“And you two, in my office at nine.”
With that, he walked back into his office.
Harrison and Florence were left standing there.
They looked at each other.
Neither looked particularly pleased about what had just been decided.
As everyone else in the office returned to their work, Harrison walked towards her.
His steps were slow and deliberate.
When he stopped in front of her, his eyes briefly travelled over her, taking in her appearance as if trying to figure her out in a single glance.
Flora decided she wasn't going to let their first interaction ruin things.
“Let's start over,” she said, hoping to smooth things over.
She smiled and extended her hand.
“Florence Ross. But you can call me Flora.”
Harrison looked at her hand.
Then at her.
He didn't seem impressed by her charming smile in the slightest.
Straightening his posture, he finally took her hand.
“Sterling Harrison.”
Flora's smile widened.
“Oh, so I can call you Harry?”
“No.”
She blinked.
His answer had come so quickly and so seriously that she almost laughed.
“Okay.”
Harrison released her hand.
“Come on.”
As they walked through the office, Harrison finally began his introduction.
“I'm Mr. Peterson's assistant.”
“Oh, then we're going to be together. I'm also an assistant—”
“No, no.”
He cut her off without even looking at her.
“I'm an assistant to Mr. Peterson. You're an assistant to me. Understood?”
Flora blinked.
“Understood.”
Harrison gave a small nod and continued walking.
He showed her the meeting rooms, the client rooms and the different sections of the department, explaining the basics as they went.
“A few things about Mr. Peterson,” he said. “He doesn't like long talks. He hates poor handwriting and he doesn't like noise.”
Flora nodded, trying to remember everything.
“And loud knocking,” Harrison added. “Don't knock loudly on his door.”
“Anything else?”
“Plenty.”
He continued walking.
“You'll learn.”
“Well, I don't really care about his likes or dislikes. I'm here to work,” she said, looking around the department.
Harrison glanced at her.
“You're new, right?”
“Obviously.”
“Then you'll learn.” He continued walking. “It's important to be a good pet in front of the bosses.”
Flora looked at him.
“A pet?”
“Yes.”
“Well, Harry, look, when you work nicely, your boss will immediately like you.”
Harrison rolled his eyes.
“Well, you see, Miss Florence, first of all, it's Harrison.”
He glanced at her.
“And bosses don't like your work.”
He paused.
“They like your obedience.”
“I'll prove you wrong. And call me Flora,” she said, turning towards her desk.
Harrison pointed towards it.
“We'll see, Miss Florence.”
A faint smirk appeared on his face.
He turned and walked towards his own desk, positioned across the room from hers.
For the first few days, Harrison gave Flora nothing but old, dusty files to correct and verify.
Files that looked like they had been sitting untouched for years.
Flora hated every single one of them.
Harrison, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying himself far too much.
Every time another dusty file landed on her desk, she'd look across the room at him with an increasingly irritated expression.
And every time, Harrison would simply continue working as though he hadn't noticed.
He had.
He just enjoyed it.
