《The Scent of You》


 The Man at the Front Desk

    Basilio''s boss, whose work dealt with the worst of the worst, put some effort into the waiting room. Basilio was almost convinced that he was a regular receptionist. The desk, made of polished wood, provided ample space, with a nice work-issued computer. Behind his seat, along the back wall, was the drink station which kept the place smelling like either coffee or tea. The room itself had a high ceiling, and cushioned seats throughout, the recent paint job on the walls¡ªsimple and modern¡ªmade the place look bigger than it was. Basilio also kept the vases clean with fresh flowers. Hell, he was proud of his upkeep of the waiting room. If anything, it helped deter any sudden bouts of anger that could get him killed.


    Before Basilio, the Boss briefly mentioned the turnover rate was a little worse than he liked, complaining more from the clean up that was required afterwards. The job was simple: keeping track of who is coming in and out, replying to some emails and phone calls, and general secretarial things at the desk, and the pay was high, so finding a new secretary wasn¡¯t the hardest thing in the world. But Boss valued secrecy and tended to be picky in the selection process.


    Basilio knew what he was getting into¡ªhis desperation had no other escape. From the first interview, he made it clear he didn¡¯t care what was going on behind the scenes. If given the job, he¡¯d do it while keeping his head down. It also helped that his ability consisted of calming people around him.


    In this world of heroes and villains duking it out in the streets, people born with, or developing, abilities wasn¡¯t uncommon. But they ranged and most were useless or too specific to matter much.


    But Basilio found his use. Before meeting the Boss, Basilio released his ability to passify clients, often with scars and narrow gazes, bodies tense for the next sudden fight. By the time they entered the double doors into the office, their shoulders were relaxed, and Boss had an easier time dealing with them. And with six years of experience in that waiting room, Basilio didn¡¯t let his ability do all the work. He kept his appearance nice, with clean, crisp shirts and black pants, black hair a little too long, but tied neatly with ribbon. Glasses were always smudge-free, and had curated a kind smile he practiced in front of mirrors to perfect. Mannerisms were important too, so when someone entered, he checked them in promptly and quickly offered drinks while they waited¡ªdrinks that he too mastered. All to make the best impression in hopes that it¡¯d help him stay alive.


    His ability was the cherry on the cake. The people that came in, villains in the media who robbed, destroyed, created chaos, killed, antagonized the city and its heroes of justice, relaxed in Basilio''s presence. Like FrostGlass, a man who, with his ice ability, froze people and shattered them, sipped warm tea at his seat and prattled on about his cat. ¡°Oh, cats are wonderful companions,¡± Basilio agreed with a smile, inviting FrostGlass to keep talking.


    ¡°They certainly are,¡± FrostGlass said, his metal gear clinking as he crossed his legs. ¡°My Penelope always naps on my desk while I build my weapons. She keeps me from overworking too, meowing at five exactly for dinner each night.¡±


    That was another thing Basilio noted: villains enjoyed talking. Or rather, sharing, like Death Gun, who lost his voice after a knife to the throat. He spent his waiting time chatting about the types of tea Basilio had available by typing on his phone. How his dear aunt, who raised him during his teenage years, grew her own flowers, plucked leaves and dug up roots, for teas. Until she was taken from him by a gang who put a bullet in her head and his thigh.


    But it wasn¡¯t like Basilio humanized them, or saw the better of them. No, because the moment they walked out the door and he was alone, Basilio dropped his pleasant persona, and forgot all about them. This was a job, simple as that. Their sad histories, the trauma that led them to the path of ¡°evil¡± didn¡¯t phase him. Not theirs or anyone else¡¯s. Basilio only cared about his own wellbeing and this job provided him with income. That¡¯s all it was supposed to be.


    But after six long years, Basilio thought about leaving. He was nearing his late thirties, was getting exhausted by the lack of purpose in his life. The only reason he started working was to earn enough money to pay for his sister¡¯s medicine, but she died just months after becoming Boss¡¯ secretary. Of course, the debt was still there and would remain for the next twenty years. However, there was also a bit of accumulated spending money Basilio could use to take a trip and do something different.


    He was considering bringing the matter up with Boss when he came in to the waiting room for work. He changed the water for the flowers, imagining a resort at a beach and fancy seafood, when the front door suddenly burst open. Basilio flinched, catching the glass vase before it shattered on the floor. Operating hours hadn¡¯t started yet, they wouldn¡¯t for another thirty minutes. Why was the guard letting people in to the building? Unless the guards were dead¡­


    Basilio set the vase down on his desk and turned to the visitors at full attention. It was a group of five, but with a clear leader at the front. The broad man, with sharp and beautiful features, strode in a clean cut suite and short hair pulled back. A handsome man, Basilio had to admit, with a well-toned body, probably in his early to mid twenties. Each step forward showed off the power and command the man held, eyes gazing around but his head always raised. The others behind him, in large clothing and shifty eyes, were no doubt underlings.


    Basilio was going to have to be careful with this one. He¡¯s never seen this man before, didn¡¯t remember an appointment this early with a new client. This man, making it this far, showed that he had power. Right away, Basilio kept his hands in front of him and put on his work smile. He activated his ability and worked on spreading the soothing air.  ¡°Good evening, sir. Have you come for your appointment?¡±


    The man stopped a few paces from Basilio and stared down at him. ¡°I don¡¯t have one.¡±


    Great, Basilio thought to himself, it¡¯s one of the entitled ones. Still, Basilio maintained his good mood and gave him a definite nod. ¡°If I can have your name or affiliation, I will inform the central office of your arrival.¡±


    ¡°Vector.¡±


    The man said nothing else and Basilio swallowed. Just great, having to deal with this so early in his shift. Basilio bowed and went around to his desk. ¡°I will inform him.¡± The man looked like he was going to say something but Basilio beat him to it, standing up again after a quick email. ¡°While you wait would you like a drink? Coffee, tea¡ªI have green tea, earl, rose milk. What are your preferences so that I can make it for you, sir?¡±


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    For a second, the man looked like he was going to protest, but then said, ¡°Coffee. Black.¡±


    It looked like  Basilio''s ability was working now. ¡°Wonderful!¡± Then Basilio looked to the others who were following their boss to the seats nearby. ¡°And for you.¡±


    The other four paused, not expecting to be addressed. They looked between themselves, then one of them stepped forward. ¡°Green tea.¡± The rest did the same and Basilio noted down their orders and went to work right away. It was a good thing the water was heated already, and after a few minutes, Basilio brought over a tray with all of the drinks, handing each cup to the right person. When the leader of the group took his cup, Basilio smiled at him. ¡°My Boss will be seeing you shortly, as soon as he settles into his office.¡±


    The man grunted in response, but said nothing else.


    Basilio returned to his desk, a triumphant look on his face. Sure, he didn¡¯t really care about the clients very much, but he still had pride for his work. He managed to quell their irritation, and it seemed like Boss had some idea they would be coming in. It would¡¯ve been nice to get some notice.


    Basilio was going through his morning routine on his computer, checking schedules and such, when one of the underlings called out, ¡°Great tea!¡±


    Stopping his work, Basilio looked around his monitor. ¡°Thank you, sir. I¡¯m glad it¡¯s to your liking.¡±


    ¡°Sure is.¡±


    Basilio joined him in chuckling lightly, and decided to test the waters by turning to the boss. ¡°How is your coffee, sir?¡±


    The man was caught mid sip. He peered up at Basilio, swallowed, then answered. ¡°Not bad.¡±


    Good, good, Basilio thought. The man was relaxing in his seat now, foot tapping. Satisfied with that, Basilio resumed his work.


    It was just another minute later when he heard the rushing footsteps. Before he could look up, the cup of coffee was smashed onto the desk, drops of the dark drink spilling over. Basilio jumped at the sudden sound, turned his head up to find the man¡¯s angry, brown eyes. ¡°What did you put in this?¡±


    ¡°W-What?¡± Basilio shrunk back, instinctively trying to get as much distance between them. But there wasn¡¯t much he could do with the man leaning over, a snarl on his face.


    ¡°The drink,¡± the man repeated. ¡°What did you put in it?¡±


    Basilio''s heart was beating in his chest, trying to comprehend what just happened and trying to give him whatever answer he was looking for. ¡°Only coffee, like you asked. They¡¯re freshly ground beans, sir.¡±


    ¡°And the drug? Something in here to make me relax? Make me unguarded?¡±


    Oh, so that¡¯s what it was. The man noticed the change in his own demeanor and assumed it was something in the drink, like a trick to put him at a disadvantage. Basilio did his best to move slowly, hands up in complete surrender. ¡°It¡¯s not the coffee, sir. It¡¯s me.¡± That only made the man¡¯s snarl grow, his knuckles white as he pushed against the table top, and Basilio quickly explained. ¡°It¡¯s my ability. I create a soothing air, to help our clients relaxed. That¡¯s all. But I will stop it now and leave the room immediately if that would appease you, sir.¡±


    The silence hung over them, and for a second Basilio thought that his day was finally here. This was where he was going to die. But then the man pulled back, an eyebrow raised. ¡°Your ability?¡±


    Basilio nodded. ¡°Yes. I use it while I work here. It¡¯s not a secret, and most clients seem to enjoy it.¡±


    ¡°Like a scent?¡±


    ¡°In a way¡­¡± The initial anger was gone now, but the man¡¯s curiosity made Basilio bewildered. He lowered his hands and straightened in his seat. ¡°I release...something, in the air around me. It doesn¡¯t have a strong scent, so hardly anyone even notices it.¡±


    ¡°Interesting.¡± The man crossed his arms and looked Basilio over. Nothing malicious in his gaze, but Basilio would rather be ignored again until it was time for Boss to call them in. The man continued with his questions instead. ¡°Do you use it during your entire shift?¡±


    ¡°Usually.¡±


    ¡°Without getting tired?¡±


    ¡°My ability can remain active without me being overly conscious of it all the time. Not while I¡¯m sleeping, however.¡±


    ¡°How useful.¡±


    ¡°Just for this job,¡± Basilio answered with a nervous chuckle. He already stopped his ability and tried organically to bring a good mood. But the man didn¡¯t smile. Instead, he picked up his cup and drank it with no intention of going back to his seat.


    Before he could say anything else, Boss threw open the doors, a large grin on his stocky face. ¡°Vector! What a pleasure to see you hear,¡± Boss bellowed. ¡°Come in, come in. Thanks for waiting while I prepared.¡± He held the door opened for them.


    The man eyed Basilio once more before he left with Boss, taking his underlings with him.


    Once Basilio was left in silence, he fell into his chair and released a deep breath. The adrenaline was still pumping, he could hear it in his ears. It had been a while since the last outburst that Basilio forgot that it was a part of his job. All kinds of people came in here for business, and Basilio had become good at appeasing the majority of them.


    He allowed himself a moment to collect himself before standing up and smoothing out his clothing. He had to get back to work. He went and collected all the cups, cleared up the mess on the desk, and resumed his secretarial job.


    Other clients came in for their appointments and Basilio resettled back into his pace, preparing more drinks and until another employee came to pick them up. He did have to reschedule one person who was supposed to meet with the Boss, but Basilio managed to assuage him by talking shit about the one to took their place. With his ability back on, it wasn¡¯t too much trouble.


    About a couple hours, Basilio almost forgot about the man from earlier until Boss returned to the waiting room with the whole group Boss talking to the leader loudly. ¡°...and after you receive the notice, everything will be ready for pick up.¡±


    Basilio was at attention instantly, ready to type in any reminders he would have to send out. The group gravitated towards his desk, where they paused. Boss clapped his hands, obviously pleased by their meeting. ¡°Thank you for coming to us. You can load up at the back of the building. The team¡¯s ready.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± the man said. Then he glanced at Basilio and his lips twitched into a smirk. ¡°I¡¯ll be in contact with you soon.¡±


    Basilio shivered though he wasn¡¯t sure why. This wasn¡¯t the last time he would see that man, that Basilio was certain of. Once the man and his entourage cleared out of the room Basilio turned to Boss. ¡°Who was that?¡±


    ¡°An immensely valuable client.¡± The Boss gave him a once over and grunted. ¡°You were the best employee I¡¯ve had sit in that chair. I never told you but I¡¯ve gotten many contracts thanks to you.¡±


    ¡°But not enough to get a raise,¡± Basilio said carefully. Of course Basilio already knew about the impact he had on guests, but for Boss to admit it like a good bye made his hands fidget.


    Without losing a beat the Boss answered, ¡°A raise means you pay off your debt sooner; why would I help my star employee get out of here so quickly?¡±


    Basilio shrugged. Not that he cared how quickly he paid it off. After all, there was nothing life had to offer, not anymore at least. At least with the debt and having to pay it off provide some consistency in his schedule. Without work he was aimless. ¡°Fine by me,¡± was all he said.

 Joy Ride

    Basilio forgot about the violent man amidst all the other violent people who entered the waiting room. Each new day was another opportunity to be killed if Basilio didn¡¯t focus on his hospitality. By the time the man, Vector, dropped in again, it was three weeks later, right after ShadowBone¡¯s appointment.


    ShadowBone¡¯s unique ability allowed them to hold a permanent black mist around them, hiding their entire body. No one knew what ShadowBone looked like¡ªage, gender, ethnicity. Even the distorted, hazy voice gave nothing away. The mist also had the additional effect of setting you on edge; Basilio expected something terrible to happen¡ªa sudden shooting, earthquake, death¡ªand his spine had a wave of shivers every few minutes while ShadowBone went through a magazine and sipped rose tea with a lemon wedge.


    ShadowBone themselves was as calm as a cactus in the summer, and Basilio knew better than to overstep and get a face full of needles. On the other hand, ShadowBone very much liked Basilio''s peaceful air and, as they exited Boss¡¯ office, went over to  Basilio''s desk to ruffle  Basilio''s hair before walking out with a hum.


    ¡°Thank you for business¡­¡± Basilio said with a slight tremble in his voice.


    The door swung shut at ShadowBone¡¯s cape hem but didn¡¯t close entirely. A small hand sprang in to catch it and pushed it open. Cassidy, an older woman with a bright smile, came in her navy blue suit. She grinned, stretching the scar on her chin. ¡°Short day for you, ain''t it?¡±


    Basilio blinked at her, brow furrowed. Cassidy was one of the other front desk workers who usually stuck to nights. But it was early. Basilio glanced at the clock, reading minutes before four, way too early. ¡°What do you mean short day?¡±


    Before she could answer, the office door burst open, and Boss strode out with one of his lit cigars. ¡°What¡¯s the holdup?¡± he said and slowly held out the cigar in the air. Basilio quickly grabbed the ashtray off the desk and rushed over to Boss. ¡°The car¡¯s gonna be here any minute.¡±


    Two taps, and Boss took another puff. Basilio meanwhile tapped on the ashtray, nervous. ¡°What car, Boss?¡±


    ¡°The car that¡¯s coming to pick you up.¡± He paused for a moment to take in  Basilio''s confused expression before he let out a laugh. ¡°Did I forget to tell you? Vector rented you out for a couple of hours.¡±


    ¡°What?!¡±


    ¡°Hey, hey, watch it! Just got this carpet cleaned.¡±


    Basilio held the ashtray close to his chest, nails now scraping across the smooth surface and cut off his ability as worry began to set in. ¡°What do you mean rented out? F-for what?¡±


    Oh no, his chest got tighter, and however much he tried to stay calm, he couldn¡¯t take even deep breaths. Images of Vector rushing at him, cold eyes inches from his, swarmed his mind. It took a hard pat on the back from Boss to jolt him out of it.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, don¡¯t worry. It¡¯s not an actual job. See, Vector confessed that he has trouble relaxing sometimes. Massages don¡¯t even work anymore, and it¡¯s making him irritated. And that¡¯s where you come in. All you gotta do is sit in the same room and release your magic incense, let him find some peace for a couple hours, and he¡¯ll bring you right back. Easy money.¡±


    Easy money for Boss. Nothing was ever easy when dealing with villains. One wrong word, one misheard secret meeting, and Basilio would be promptly disposed of. No, Basilio didn¡¯t want to get involved like this; he was a receptionist!


    ¡°But Boss, I don¡¯t think I can¡­¡±


    The laughter faded from Boss¡¯ face, and he pulled Basilio close with an arm around his shoulder. ¡°You can and you will. Vector is an important client, you know how bad it¡¯d look for us to cancel last minute? Are you going to betray the company that helped you when no one else would? Do you know how many other debtors get the same treatment you do? How many have a comfy bed, clock in and out without breaking a sweat?¡±


    Basilio shook his head, eyes on the ground where his heart sank.


    ¡°Just you,¡± Boss said, then he released his hold but kept a strict hand on Basilio''s shoulder. ¡°I like you, Basilio. You know I was doing everything for your sister, but nothing ever comes for free. Now, you¡¯re gonna go with Vector, help him relax, and make sure he¡¯s happy, understood?¡±


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Basilio nodded and bit back his worries. There was no point in going against Boss. Basilio''s life was in Boss¡¯ hands until the debt was paid off. Others had it worse. Rethinking the job again, Basilio figured it shouldn¡¯t be difficult at all. All Vector wanted was Basilio''s ability, like a literal incense stick.


    Despite the efforts to convince himself that this really was easy money, it all flew out the window the moment the main door opened, and the man himself strode in. Vector had a more casual look with his black button-up that exposed his collarbone and fitted white pants. The kind of guy Basilio would buy a drink for at a bar and ask about his multiple bracelets as an excuse to touch that beautiful, slim hand. Too bad this man was a villain.


    ¡°Am I too early?¡± Vector asked in a low, smooth voice. Although the question was directed at Boss, Vector¡¯s eyes trailed over to Basilio, and he gave him a quick once-over before going back to Boss.


    With a gulp, Basilio made himself small as Boss greeted Vector with zeal. Basilio knew better than to be taken in by looks. Who knew what horrific things this man¡¯s done and will continue to do? To Basilio, if he wasn¡¯t careful.


    With his gaze lowered, Basilio followed the cues, approaching when the conversation ended and sticking to Vector¡¯s heels when it was time to leave. Their steps clanked on the tile in the otherwise silent hallway that led to the private elevator. Vector, being in the lead, pushed the button, and the two stood there to wait. After a second, Vector chuckled. ¡°Ashtray included?¡±


    Basilio peered down at his hands, which held the tray in a death grip. He¡¯d forgotten to put it back. With no place to leave it nor a trashcan to dump out the contents, there was no choice but to continue holding it. ¡°Yes,¡± was all that Basilio could get out.


    With a chime, the doors slid open, and this time, Basilio took the initiative and entered first to push the button to the lobby. Vector followed, pulling out his phone to scroll through it. ¡°What kind of music do you like?¡± Vector asked as they descended.


    Not expecting such a question, Basilio had to take a moment to think. ¡°I listen to everything.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the worst answer you can give.¡± Vector tapped the screen while he reworded his question. ¡°Give me an artist''s name.¡±


    ¡°Uhh¡­Calavera.¡±


    ¡°Calavera, huh? Went up against her once; should just stick to music.¡±


    ¡°Uh-huh¡­¡±


    Going down twenty floors never felt this long. How Basilio would survive a couple of hours with this man was a mystery. Fortunately, Vector didn¡¯t say anything more as they finally exited the elevator, and the hotel lobby was perfect in its facade. Basilio''s never stayed in any of the rooms, but if the luxurious lobby was anything to go by, the rooms were no joke. Important people, from politicians, the wealthy, and the villainous, stayed here, and whatever deals went on in these walls would stay there. Not that Basilio cared to know anymore.


    They left through a side door where Vector¡¯s car and driver waited. Before Basilio climbed in, Vector stopped him and held his hand out. ¡°I¡¯m sure you understand the procedure.¡±


    Basilio picked up the earbuds and looked at the black sack the driver held open for him. He sighed. What did Basilio expect? Blind and deafened by Calavera¡¯s guttural screaming to the electric guitar, Basilio could do little else but sit still in the car. The seats were at least comfortable, with lots of legroom. Basilio hardly felt the car move as it pulled off the curb and took them to who knew where.


    A few minutes into the ride, Basilio caught the growing scent of smoke. Cigarette smoke that grew stronger quickly. Basilio disliked the smell, but he breathed it in the same way. He bit his lip and turned the ashtray once in his hand before he slowly lifted it up to where he imagined Vector sat beside him. He brought the ashtray with him, after all. He hadn¡¯t considered how long he¡¯d hold it up for. If he pulled away too soon and the ashes dropped onto Vector¡¯s very expensive seats¡­


    The car ride couldn¡¯t be that long, Basilio told himself. He started this, so he was set on seeing it through. Just as his arms started to ache, something touched his wrist, and Basilio nearly dropped the tray. Long fingers wrapped around him lightly, leading his hands back down to his lap.


    Ah, so Vector wasn¡¯t sadistically cruel.


    Eventually, the car stopped, and something tapped Basilio''s shoulder close to the door. Basilio climbed out of the car with some trouble, but he didn¡¯t dare touch the bag on his head. A hand steered him by the shoulder through the darkness. A turn here, another one there, and then they were in an elevator. Only then did the bag come off.


    Basilio blinked in the dim light and quickly located Vector at his side, now joined by two larger bodies that Basilio assumed to be bodyguards. Vector pointed at his own ears as a sign for Basilio to remove his earbuds, which Basilio did and handed back.


    ¡°Sorry for the trouble,¡± Vector said with a smile that didn¡¯t look apologetic at all. ¡°Can¡¯t have my safe heaven exposed.¡±


    ¡°I understand,¡± Basilio said.


    ¡°I know.¡± With a pleased chuckle, Vector asked, ¡°Has your ability been off?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Good. I¡¯ll let you know when to turn it on.¡±


    Right. Because he was just an incense stick to light up. And an ashtray, apparently, since Vector held out his cigarette as he looked through his phone, and Basilio obediently met it with the tray for Vector to put out. Basilio wrinkled his nose at the butt with its last whiffs of smoke. This is just a job, he reminded himself. Do it well, and it¡¯ll be over before he knows it.


    Steeling himself Basilio straightened up and looked forward as the door pinged open. No matter what lay on the other side Basilio would meet it head on.