Chapter Text
The soap foamed as Tav lathered her hands for the second time in a row. Logically, she knew the grime of regret would not wash off, especially in only two rounds of soap, but Gortash’s cologne could.
His cologne did not smell as nice on her; the mixed scent of vanilla and spice clung to her dress, skin, and hair. There was an anxiousness inside of her that was itching to be rid of it.
I need to wash my hair tonight.
She placed her soapy hands underneath the chilly tap water, internally cursing how the sharp cold seemed to seep through her skin and penetrate her bones. It made her insides feel shrivelled and raw, as the cold demanded extra energy for each new movement she made, energy that she did not have.
Tav stared at the woman in the mirror in front of her, she looked shell-shocked: eyes devoid of emotion and thought, grey circles and puffy under eye bags, skin lacking in vibrance. It was painful to look at her, as the parts of herself that she had just betrayed were staring back at her.
I didn’t have a choice.
No part of her was comforted by that thought.
It wasn’t all bad. Another part of her murmured.
The mental picture she had taken of Gortash shot to her mind; he had looked wrecked, and she had been responsible for it.
Turning the lights on had revealed the wake of her destruction: his shirt drowned from her saliva, his crumbled tie on the cupboard floor, his hair in ruins. The unapproachable look in his eyes had been demolished; reconstructed into a heavy gaze of lust and disorientation, as his erection had continued to angrily rebel against its confinement.
Like corpse clutching to treasure at the bottom of the sea, Tav’s reflection smiled lifelessly.
---
By the time she finished in the bathroom and re-entered the kitchen, Gortash’s coffee mug had vanished from the bench, leaving her cold cup of tea sitting alone.
Tav poured her tea down the sink and begun to wash her mug with soapy hot water; the warmth did nothing to soothe the arctic chill that had settled in her bones, as she had temporarily lost the ability to feel anything.
A voice in the back of her brain tried to notify her about the boiling water, as it had begun to scorch her hands and turn them a glowing red. Although, the sound of the running tap drowned out the voice, and all other sounds, causing Tav to be oblivious to the groan of the kitchen door and the footsteps that followed.
“You smell different.”
Astarion halted in the middle of the kitchen, his ruby-red eyes narrowed as he scrutinised Tav from head to toe. He moved closer to her, leaning the side of his body against the bench next to the sink, the familiar scent of Gortash’s cologne offensively invading his nostrils.
“To be accurate, you smell like Gortash” He commented, his face scrunched up in disgust.
The wet mug slipped from Tav’s hands and landed in the sink with a thundering crash; the sound echoed in her ears, as she lethargically reached for the fallen mug, her cheeks now the same glowing red as her hands.
Tav was not particularly religious, nor had she ever been, but the overwhelming urge to pray flooded her soul, and she pleaded with God to never let the sun rise again.
“It is not what it seems like,” the words weakly bumbled their way out of her mouth.
Astarion co*cked an eyebrow in amusem*nt; his smirk becoming more prominent as he watched Tav struggle to dry the inside of the mug with a scratchy grey dishtowel.
“What does it seem like darling?”
The kitchen became blurry as Tav attempted to come up with an intelligible explanation; but before she could speak the words she found, they died in her throat and were swallowed down by shame.
“Please don’t say anything” she pleaded.
Tav singed hands started to sting as the weight of the world crushed down onto her shoulders, and everything felt more real than it had a second ago.
Astarion gracefully pushed his body away from the bench and snigg*red under his breath. He begun to walk towards the men’s bathroom, leaving Tav standing alone, as his hand pressed against the door.
“Don’t worry darling,” he paused in his steps to call over his shoulder, “I am great at keeping secrets.”
The bathroom door shut with a bang.
---
The café’s fluorescent white lights were bright, too bright for a Monday morning. The bitter smell of fresh coffee was pungent, it engulfed Tav as she shifted uncomfortably in a flimsy plastic chair. This was her first time visiting the café downstairs from her office and most likely her last.
The young barista had remained straight-faced while she charged seven (excessive) dollars for a small cup of coffee. Feeling pressured by the line of customers which had formed behind her, Tav had begrudgingly forked the amount from her wallet and promised herself that she would never make the mistake of arriving over an hour early for work again.
All night, like a frightened young child, Tav’s anxiety had kept nudging her awake. Over and over again, it had described its fears of having to face Enver Gortash and its nightmares of Astarion telling corporate about what happened.
Tav had attempted to soothe her anxiety by whispering sweet words, and allowing it to just be in her arms, but it was stubborn; most likely because its fears weren’t unfounded. If corporate found out, she knew that she would be promptly fired, while Gortash would get to walk free.
It wasn’t entirely fair, that Enver Gortash had handcuffed their wrists together, promising to form an alliance, yet had the ability to slip from the restraints when he needed and without consequences. While she was stuck, bound to either him or a metaphorical prison cell, as for her there was no escape from this predicament, and certainly no winning.
Unable to spend another moment sitting at home thinking about it, her body had taken her to work early, eager to get today over with.
With shaky hands, Tav lifted the small cup of coffee to her lips and took a small sip; it tasted closer to plain hot water than it did black coffee. Her nose wrinkled.
That’s seven dollars down the drain.
She swirled her watery coffee with a sliver spoon, hoping the liquid will change in colour and consistency to become more like coffee.
Tav peered down at her cup of hot water, can someone run out of luck? Perhaps, she had used the last of her luck on Friday, when Gortash didn’t venture from his office and Astarion hadn’t gotten her fired.
On Friday, she had heard from Gale that Gortash was stuck in his office creating reports for Raphael’s visit; his absence had been a relief.
Then it appeared that Astarion was only interested in tormenting her about her secret; like clockwork, every couple of hours he had strolled into the Annex to lean against the edge of her desk, throwing her smirks while he spoke to Gale or Karlach. It wasn’t ideal, but at the end of the day she still had a job.
Tav let all the air out of her lungs with a deep and heavy sigh.
“Treasure, why so glum?”
The voice snatched Tav’s attention as she realised the question was directed at her, and that the owner of the voice was standing directly in front of her table, waiting for an answer.
Tav lifted her head, halfway through responding reflexively with ‘I am fine thanks’, when her eyes landed on the owner of the voice and the automatic process halted; he was quite literally breathtaking.
The man belonged in a museum, he was a masterpiece of art. His skin looked as smooth as oil, making him appear more youthful than he presumably was. Tav surmised from his modern slim-fitting business suit, that his body was sculpted. In contrast to the neat presentation of his flashy grey suit, his dark brown hair was ruffled, as it extended down the back of his neck. Captivatingly, the man’s amber eyes popped out at her, making the rest of the world seem a shade duller.
He was the most attractive human that she had ever met.
“I..I,” she stammered, her brain scurrying to remember what he had asked her, her focus stuck on his eyes.
The man chuckled, then further surprised Tav by slipping into the seat across the table from her, a light and playful smile on his face.
“Don’t fret treasure,” he cooed as he rested his forearms on the table. “I have this effect on everyone,” he sent Tav a quick wink, before turning his gaze to Molly and waving her over with a slight hand movement.
Molly, the red Tiefling, almost looked a shader lighter as she promptly brought over a cup of coffee and placed it down in front of the man. A satisfied smile crossed her face, impressed with her own speed; she stood by the table with her arms behind her back, waiting for the man to speak.
“Thank you, my little scoundrel,” he affectionately praised, like how a loving father would praise their child or how devoted mentor would reward their student.
A sense of relief must have washed over Molly as Tav noticed the colour return to her face and a big breath leave her ribcage. Although, the relief seemed short-lived, as the man peered down into Tav’s coffee and tutted, causing a strained painful smile to crease Molly’s face.
“Mol,” he tutted again, this time sounding playful, as he shook his head with exaggerated movements, “you’re very naughty for charging seven-dollars for such a pitiful cup of coffee.”
The man gestured to Tav’s cup of predominately hot water and laughed heartily, Tav’s heart fluttered at the sound. “Please remake this for my treasure.”
At his command, Mol gingerly picked up Tav’s coffee, a bitter look in her eyes as she smiled in Tav’s direction.
“Sure,” Mol’s raspy voice sounded croakier than the first time Tav had heard it, “won’t happen again, now I know what company she keeps.” The last part of her sentence was spoken in a noticeably lower tone, one which was reluctant to attract attention.
The Tiefling didn’t give the man time to respond; she scurried to stand behind the industrial matte back counter and begun to remake Tav’s coffee.
Tav slumped back in her chair, her mouth hanging ajar; what a ridiculous scam, she would have saved herself less than a dollar by not adding an ample amount of coffee.
She must enjoy scamming people.
The realisation made Tav frown; Mol could have made her a decent coffee and still scammed her out of seven dollars, the two did not have to be exclusive of each other – the price was a rip off as it is!
Tav’s eyes slid back to the man across from her, he had been waiting for her attention to return to him. There was a playful curiosity about him, as his eyes sparkled in interest and his head was slightly tilted.
At first glance, she had overlooked the man’s mischievous aura. She had not noticed how his lips permanently sat in a subtle smirk, how his eyes were shiftily squinted, or how his body claimed the atmosphere with confidence, oozing mischief and sex.
“Thank you,” she paused to allow the man to offer up his name, which he did with a sinful smile. “Thank you Haarlep.”
Without flinching, Haarlep brought his steaming cup of coffee to his lips and poured the scorching hot liquid down his throat.
“What’s your name treasure?” he asked, his eyes intensely glued to her face.
“Tav.”
Like a bat out of hell, Mol was promptly back with a fresh cup of black coffee. She placed the dark brown liquid in front of Tav, refusing to speak or look at either of them as she did, and then rushed away to scam other customers.
Tav stared at her fresh cup of coffee, steam flowed from it like a smoke signal, signifying that it was too hot and dangerous to drink in its current state.
How hadn’t Haarlep burnt his throat?
“I’ve never seen you around treasure, why is that?” Haarlep asked, seemingly preferring his nickname for Tav over her actual name.
It also seemed that Haarlep did not like when she looked away from him as he used his foot to tap her leg from underneath the table, gently demanding her gaze to return to his.
Tav satisfied him, willing her eyes to remain on his while she answered his question.
“I just started at Balduran-Ansur.”
Haarlep nodded his head, simultaneously reaching for the tin of sugar packets which sat on the edge of the table. He tore one open, pouring it into his cup to join his remaining coffee.
As he swirled in it with a silver spoon, the rotation of his wrist drew Tav’s attention to his sparkling everose-gold Rolex; his watch was worth more than her car, almost threefold.
She eyed the ostentatious wealth suspiciously, this man was not from the Scranton area, that was obvious.
Now that she was thinking about it, this man had done a string of confusing things: sat down with her uninvited, saved her from a scam, and chugged back scorching coffee as if it was water.
Amid her thoughts, a faint black tattoo miraculously caught her eye from underneath the band of his watch. The symbol of the tattoo was unclear, as she could only see the edge extending outwards.
Interesting, concealing a tattoo with such an eye-catching Rolex.
There were many practical reasons why someone would conceal their tattoo with a watch, for example work was one of those reasons. Despite all rational thoughts, Tav’s gut pinged, sending her a message.
The message did not contain a conscious explanation but filled her with the itching need to see his tattoo, as if it was something terribly important, like life or death.
Still firmly seated in the uncomfortable plastic chair, Tav rested her elbows on the wood either side of her coffee, and leant forwards across the table. Haarlep watched her with interest.
“You’ve got a tattoo,” she purposefully flickered her eyes between his wrist and his eyes, “may I see it?”
She hoped that Haarlep didn’t think she was trying to rob him as she titled her head innocently and stared at him through her eyelashes.
Tav was a tad ashamed that she was resorting to flirty looks to get what she wanted; perhaps the inclination to emotionally manipulate was like an STD, one that she had caught from Enver Gortash. Or worse, perhaps Enver was right, they were more alike than they both had anticipated.
As if Haarlep had invented emotional manipulation and could see right through her, his lips stretched into a devilish smile. Calling her bluff as he leant forwards, popping one of his elbows onto the table beside Tav’s.
“How very naughty,” his tone with filthy with lust as each word dribbled from his mouth. “Requesting my clothing off so soon after meeting me, I’m flattered.”
A flurry of flustered sounds left Tav’s mouth; she was rusty with both flirting and manipulation.
“Let’s compromise,” with delicate and soothing movements, Haarlep caressed Tav wrist. “Let me take you on a date, then I’ll show you my tattoo,” he proposed.
Haarlep’s touch mimicked the tenderness of a lover, and Tav’s body fell for the sweet lie as she leaned into it, savouring the moment.
When had she become so touch starved?
Fooling around with Enver had not dampened her yearning for physical affection, if anything it had reignited it, showing her a need that she had been neglecting.
Thankfully, she still had her mind.
Tav lowered her voice to a harsh whisper, letting Haarlep continue to feel her skin with his warm hands.
“If you’re insinuating sex,” she shook her head, drawing the line on how far she would go to manipulate someone, “I won’t sleep with you.”
Haarlep didn’t take away his gentle touch or seem concerned by her rejection. Instead of responding in a way that Tav would consider normal, Haarlep giggled as if she had said something silly or funny.
“I’ll wait for you to beg to sleep with me, I promise” he told her presumptuously, placing a hand over his heart.
In shocked silence,Tav observed Haarlep as he took a final sip of his coffee, stood up, and then tucked his chair back into the table. He rested both of his hands on the back of the chair, displaying his long slender fingers, and the attractive prominent bones and veins in his hands.
“Think about the date my treasure,” as if it was a delicious thought, Haarlep wetted his lips with his tongue. “I’ll be thinking about you.”
Instinctively, Tav brought a hand to her face as her cheeks begun to burn.
She had thought she was the cat, hence why she had started a game of cat and mouse; but now that they were playing, she realised that she was the mouse.
“If I want to say yes, how will I contact you?” she asked.
Tav was quickly growing weary of becoming flustered, as it had turned in a weekly occurrence for her. She was surprised to find herself envious of Haarlep, as with square shoulders and a self-assured expression, he coolly waved Mol over to collect his empty coffee cup.
“I’m sure we will see each other around.”
Haarlep winked at her, then swaying his way towards the elevator, his presence capturing the eyes of many as he walked by them. Tav watched as people pandered to him: pressing the elevator button for him, gesturing for him to climb into the elevator before them, and overall seeming excessively friendly towards him.
Tav took sip of her fresh coffee, its taste reminded her of Haarlep’s presence, as he was technically the only reason that she had gotten a decent cup of coffee.
Was he trying to blow her off by not leaving his number? Tav pondered the possibility; unfortunately, there was no way of knowing for certain.
Perhaps, the cat had run off to lay a mousetrap.
Tav continued to sip on her coffee, relieved to find that with each new sip, her thoughts of Haarlep slowly faded away.
---
The Annex was empty when Tav arrived precisely five minutes before nine o’clock; she slid into her chair and with a yawn, booted her computer up.
The peacefully quiet atmosphere abruptly died as Karlach entered the room gleefully, Gale trailing behind her with far less enthusiasm; they briefly acknowledged Tav with a greeting before returning to their conversation.
“Today is the day!” Karlach exclaimed as she threw her bag onto her desk, it landed with an odd loud clunk, presumably from something heavy inside of it crashing.
“I can’t believe I’m excited to see bloody Raphael,” Karlach shook her head in disbelief as she chuckled, sliding into her office chair. She swivelled around to face Gale and Tav, “Gortash has been extra insufferable lately.”
Gale took his seat at his desk; sensibly removing his laptop from his bag and placing a purple steel drink bottle on his desk.
“We shouldn’t speak ill of him,” Gale’s eyes darted to Tav, who had been pretending to mind her own business by looking at her emails. “However, even I can admit, something has been amiss lately.”
"That’s what I’m saying!” Karlach said enthusiastically as she wildly rocked backwards in her chair, causing it to dangerously slant back against her desk. “Is it Raphael’s visit or is something else going on?”
Karlach hummed thoughtfully. “Word is that Orin’s branch got shut down, maybe Gortash is worried that ours is next?”
Inwardly, Tav bitterly laughed to herself; she wouldn’t need to worry about getting fired if the branch shut down and she lost her job anyways.
Gale shook his head.
“The Sandford branch had been consistently underperforming,” he explained, “Gortash ensures that our numbers don’t drop below what’s acceptable.”
Karlach let out a groan of disgust, her face screwed up, as she slammed her chair back onto the ground and swivelled towards her desk.
“Gortash only cares about saving his own arse,” she mumbled bitterly.
The conversation quickly shrivelled as the phone rang, causing Karlach to reach to answer it and the click-clacking of Gale’s typing to pierce the air. Tav remained in silence, not sure what to make of what she had just heard and wondering what else she didn’t know about the Balduran-Ansur Company.
