❝ YOU KNOW, YOU'RE RUDE. ❞
❝ WOW, YOU'RE LIKE A DETECTIVE OR SOMETHING. ❞
Scout Wiley has two sides. The loudmouth mailroom girl who hates coffee, and the trained assassin who never misses her target. Thanks to years of training, these lives hav...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
THERE WAS NOTHING she hated more than the smell of coffee.
It wasn't the fact that she didn't like the taste of it, because she did. But the smell of pure, black coffee without any sugar or cream made the hairs on the back of her neck rise. Maybe it was because she never understood how people could drink it straight from the pot without any sort of flavor or because it smelled like manure to her but she hated it more than anything.
And the fact that the FBI smelled like it every morning didn't help at all.
It filled every hallway and crevasse of the government building, making sure that even the walls sweated its dark color by nighttime.
Luckily, she made sure that the mailroom never smelled like it with cans of Febreeze to cover it up. She made sure to never drink the occasional cup of coffee that she had inside the room and to always have her spare toothbrush around to wash the aftertaste out.
Five spoonfuls of sugar and half a cup of milk was how she took it.
And it was good enough for her.
"Good morning, Wiley." She heard from behind as she typed away at her computer, logging in the mail count from yesterday that she forgot to do.
That's when she smelled it.
With a quick swift, she turned around and made contact with the large, open mug of coffee that was clearly made in the break room because it smelled the rest of the building.
"Gordon, what's the number one rule for my office?"
The man scoffed, "C'mon Scout, this isn't your office. This is the mailroom, so stop being so over dramatic and pass me the cart. I still haven't gotten the load today."
"Probably because you were getting that cup of dirt." Scout mumbled under her breath, standing up and pushing the large laundry-looking cart over to Gordon.
The push was forceful, causing him to almost drop the ceramic cup.
She narrowed her eyes at him, "Hey! Don't you dare look at me like that; you're the one who pushed it."
"If you dropped that, you would've been so dead to me."
Gordon scoffed, "Aren't I already?"
"Don't push it."
***
The FBI Academy in Quantico, Virginia first hired Scout Wiley when he father died of lung cancer back when she was a junior in college.
She took over his job after she failed to graduate because of the devastating loss. Somehow the people in the shades and dark suits let her into their world and thankfully, the mailroom was as far as she went with the murder cases that happened behind the four walls she was so secure in.
