Chapter Text
Zoey slipped the false glasses onto her face and looked at herself in her phone's camera. Wow, she looked like an entirely different person... who just so happened to bear a striking resemblance to the bitchy barista from the coffeeshop a block down the road, just out of uniform. But that's just because she was looking for the similarities between the two. Nobody else knew that "Melissa" was really just her with a blazer and non-prescription glasses. Nobody else would recognize her.
It wasn't psychopathic, she thought. Was it bitchy and melodramatic? Yeah, but she was a theatre kid. It was her job, though maybe this was a little much. Was it catty and immoral? Sure, but if Sam was going to be two-faced, well, two could play at that game. Was it stunts like this that had ended all her other past relationships? Totally, but Sam didn't seem too invested in keeping theirs alive, either. Was it overcomplicating something that could be handled just as well, if not better, with a confrontation with him? Absolutely, but where's the fun in that? It might have been all of those things, but it wasn't psychopathic. At least, that's what she kept telling herself.
She had needed a second job, anyway, and customer service was a hellhole she didn't want to trap herself in for double the time. This paid pretty well, and, hey, she could wear pretty much whatever she wanted as a secretary at CCRP. She had breezed through the interview, answering every question the way she had decided Melissa would have. Her interviewer, Mr. Davidson (who looked simultaneously like he was about to give her a puppy and slaughter one in front of her- maybe she wasn't going to be the only psycho in the office), and her character seemed to agree on everything... what a coincidence. She practically had the job the second she had walked into the interview.
Zoey got off the bus and made the short walk to the office, getting into character. As she stepped out of the elevator and onto the third floor, she heard a sickeningly familiar voice. Ugh. She forced herself not to groan as she turned to see the asshole with the terrible Borat impression and the consistent order of "a chai iced tea and a taste of you, hot stuff" bothering two of his coworkers. A closer look at the others identified them as the soft-spoken man who always got a caramel frappe and Paul. Emma's boyfriend. The others might not recognize her, but he probably would, with how much time he spent at Beanie's. To be fair, though, she was pretty sure he didn't know Nora's name, so it wasn't unreasonable to assume that she was just "Emma's bitchy manager" or "the insufferable theatre kid barista" in his eyes.
She didn't see anyone else, and she didn't really know her way around the office, so she would need to ask one of them. She figured her best shot was Caramel Frappe, so she walked up and gently tapped his shoulder to get his attention. "Excuse me, sir," she said in the same quiet, shy voice she had used for Melissa during the interview. "Can you please-"
"Hey, you're the new PA Mr. Davidson keeps mentioning, aren't you?" Iced Chai asked, interrupting her. "It's Melissa, right?"
"Um, yes. I-"
"Not too shabby," he chuckled, resting his elbow on Paul's head.
"Dude, she's like 15," Paul groaned. She was glad he was too focused on the sleazeball to recognize her.
"Well, 23, but-"
"Sorry about him, he's a huge dick sometimes," he sighed, pushing his coworker's arm off of him. Were they ever going to let her talk? "So, uh... Melissa, was it?"
"Yes, I-"
"Oh, hey, Char," Iced Chai interrupted, calling to someone else behind her.
Zoey turned to see who must have been the woman herself getting off the elevator. Charlotte. Sam's wife. In her hand was a Beanie's cup. God, she had probably made a million drinks for this woman without even knowing. She covered the scowl she knew was on her face with a fake cough and smiled at her. "Hello, miss. I'm Melissa, Mr. Davidson's new secretary," she said, extending her hand for a shake. "It's nice to meet you."
"Oh! It's nice to meet you, too. I'm Charlotte, you don't need to call me 'miss.'" As she shook Zoey's hand, she could feel the cold metal of her wedding band. Ugh. This was going to be fun.