Undercover Boss
"I'll be checking out the office here first," Brandon said with a wink, gesturing to the doors.
"Get a feel for the place, you know?"
Gordon nodded, his posture impeccable as always.
"Very well, young master. I shall proceed to gather the executives and artists as requested."
As Brandon stepped out, Gordon added,
"Oh, the performance theater is located on the fourth floor, sir."
Brandon paused, one foot out of the elevator.
He glanced back at Gordon and gave a quick nod.
"Got it. I'll be there in thirty."
Brandon's eyes locked onto the janitor's closet at the end of the hallway, a plan forming in his mind.
Moments later, he emerged, transformed. Broom in hand, dustpan at the ready, he was the picture of an unassuming cleaner - the perfect disguise for his impromptu reconnaissance mission.
He then pushed his way through the glass doors onto the second floor office space.
The open-plan office sprawled before him, a sea of sleek desks and ergonomic chairs.
Glass partitions separated different departments, creating an illusion of privacy while maintaining an airy, collaborative atmosphere. Soft LED lighting illuminated workstations where employees tapped away at their computers or huddled in small groups, discussing projects in hushed tones.
Brandon shuffled towards the pantry, his eyes darting around, taking in every detail. As he approached, he caught snippets of conversation from two employees on their break.
"Can you believe those A&R assholes?" a woman with red hair hissed, her voice dripping with disdain.
"They're not even trying to hide it anymore."
Her companion, a lanky guy with thick-rimmed glasses, nodded grimly.
"Tell me about it. It's an open secret they're taking bribes in exchange for contracts."
Brandon's eyebrows shot up behind his mask.
He pretended to sweep nearby, straining to hear more.
Suddenly, a well-dressed man sauntered into the pantry. His crisp suit and cocky grin screamed A&R. He reached into the fridge, grabbing a drink.
"Like the new Rolex?" he asked, flashing his wrist at the other two.
"Perks of the job, you know? Oh… I guess ya'll don't"
As he strutted out, the redhead spat, "Fucking prick."
"Asshole," her friend agreed.
Suddenly, a new figure entered the pantry.
She moved with the grace of a panther and the authority of a queen, her tailored suit a second skin that whispered of both boardroom battles and after-hours intrigue.
Every head turned, conversations stuttering to a halt as she passed - this was clearly someone who commanded respect and attention in equal measure.
"Morning, boss," the two gossiping employees muttered hastily before disappearing.
'Boss?' Brandon's mind raced.
This woman, with her striking features and air of confidence, clearly held a position of power.
But who was she?
Lost in thought, Brandon didn't realize he'd been staring until her sharp gaze locked onto him. Her eyes, intelligent and piercing, seemed to cut right through his disguise.
"And who might you be?" she asked, her voice a blend of silk and steel.
Brandon lowered his head, mumbling, "Just the janitor, ma'am," and tried to sidle past her.
In one fluid motion, she stepped in front of him, blocking his path. A hint of jasmine wafted from her, intoxicating and disarming.
"Not so fast. You're definitely not a janitor."
Brandon looked up, curiosity getting the better of him.
"Oh? What makes you so sure?"
Her lips curled into a knowing smirk.
"I know the names and faces of every single one of the 328 employees on this level, including the janitors. And you, my friend, are not one of them."
Scrambling, Brandon tried to salvage his cover.
"Oh, uh, I'm a last-minute replacement."
She raised an eyebrow, her gaze traveling from his face down to his shoes and back up again.
"Oh yeah? And a last-minute replacement can afford a four-figure T-shirt, huh?"
Brandon glanced at the ceiling, letting out a long sigh. His shoulders slumped in defeat.
"Fine, you caught me," he admitted, meeting her eyes.
"And you are?"
Triumph flashed across her face, making her even more captivating.
"I'm the COO of Blackstone Music Group. So if you don't spill the beans in the next ten seconds, I'm calling security on you."
Brandon's eyebrows furrowed beneath his mask.
"If you're the COO, shouldn't your office be on the fifth floor?"
He tilted his head, a hint of challenge in his voice.
"And shouldn't you be reporting to the performance theater by now?"
Jessie's eyes flashed with annoyance, her posture stiffening.
"A little thief or spy or whatever you are questioning my position? How dare you!"
She planted her hands on her hips, leaning forward slightly.
"I'll have you know, as the COO, I work best amongst my people."
"Still," Brandon pressed, his tone casual but firm, "the COO should be at the performance theater by now."
Confusion rippled across Jessie's face, her brow furrowing.
"Huh? Performance theater? What are you rambling on about?"
Brandon's lips curled into a mischievous smile behind his mask. With deliberate slowness, he reached up and pulled off the face covering, revealing a jawline that could cut glass and eyes that sparkled with amusement.
He extended his hand, his voice smooth as silk.
"Let me re-introduce myself. Brandon Blackstone, the new owner."
Jessie's eyes widened, the realization hitting her like a physical force. Her composure, usually unshakeable, crumbled in an instant.
Her free hand flew to her mouth, barely stifling a gasp that threatened to escape.
"B-Blackstone... As in..."
Brandon nodded, his smile growing more charming by the second.
"As in Blackstone Music Group."
Jessie's mind reeled.
'Oh my god, did I just call my new boss a spy and a little thief!?' Her thoughts raced, suddenly noticing how devastatingly handsome Brandon was.
'He's so young! And so… hot!'
His piercing eyes, the confident set of his shoulders, the way his t-shirt hinted at a well-toned physique beneath...
'Get it together you slut! Whether I decide to stay in BMG depends on how he performs!'
She shook her head slightly, snapping out of her reverie.
Brandon glanced pointedly at his still-empty outstretched hand, then back to Jessie, one eyebrow raised in silent question.
Realizing she'd been staring, Jessie felt heat rush to her cheeks.
She hurriedly grasped Brandon's hand, her grip firm despite her flustered state.
"Jessie Kim, COO," she managed, her voice only slightly unsteady.
Just then, Jessie's expression suddenly shifted from embarrassment to sudden, wide-eyed realization. Her grip on his hand tightened, and she leaned in closer, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Wait a minute," she gasped, her voice rising in pitch.
"Are you... are you 13?!"
Brandon's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He hadn't expected anyone at the company to recognize him.
"I... uh..."
But Jessie was already in full fangirl mode. She bounced on her toes, her professional demeanor momentarily forgotten.
"Oh my god, you are! You're the mysterious singer who's been blowing up on X recently!"
She clasped her hands together, practically vibrating with enthusiasm.
"That performance on the yacht was incredible! The rhythm, the lyrics... it was unlike anything I've ever heard before!"
Brandon couldn't help but chuckle at her exuberance. It was a stark contrast to the composed COO he'd met just moments ago.
"Well, I—"
"I can't believe it!" Jessie interrupted, her words tumbling out in a rush.
"The new owner of BMG is the most talked-about new artist in the industry!? This is... this is..."
She paused, taking a deep breath as if to calm herself. But then she burst out,
"This is amazing!"