Now she understood why Catherine chose to avoid this man.

Gregor Barkens was a tall, skinny man. Smoothly slicked back hair, narrow glasses over his eyes, a cold and tenacious gaze - the man looked like a snake, ready to swallow his victim if she makes a wrong move.

Emily flew into his lair without waiting for an answer for permission to enter. And she froze on the spot as if she had forgotten how to talk. The oppressive silence that cemetery spirits would envy made the office of the editor-in-chief an even more eerie place.

The man looked up from the papers he was studying and looked at his guest, unpleasant chills ran down Emily's spine.

"H-hello," she forced out of herself in a suddenly shrunken voice, "I was told you were looking for me."

The man arched an eyebrow and silently gestured to a seat across from his desk.

"Miss Hayes."

"Yes, it's me." What an idiot I must look like! I had to introduce myself from the very beginning!

"I never waited for anyone else," the editor commented in a detached tone, implying unequivocally that he had waited longer than he wanted.

"How can I help you?" Emily shifted in her chair, trying to sit comfortably. The chairs in the boss's office were much better, she noted to herself.

"Hmmm," the man sighed, flipping through the page of some folder, "Are you sure this is about help?"

The girl also became interested in finding out what he was looking at with such an air as if he were a judge passing a life sentence to a criminal.

Damn! He's looking at her personal information folder!

"They say you want to take my position in this company?" dark brown eyes, almost black, stared at Emily through the arch of his glasses.

"What a bullsh-," she blurted out straight away and immediately gagged her mouth with her hand. Gosh, she really demanded this position from the boss yesterday morning! But didn't really mean it!

"Sorry, this is certainly not nonsense." The man's gaze grew closer and heavier. "Oh, I mean, what you say cannot be nonsense. That is, you cannot talk nonsense," the girl began to jabber.

Oh foooool….

"I'm not claiming your position in the company," Emily finally expressed herself clearly and unambiguously. "I don't have the same experience," she added for credibility.

"This is exactly what I see," the man closed the folder with her personal file, pushed the papers aside and rubbed his eyes wearily. "In the condition you are in, the job of editor-in-chief will be too stressful. And the lack of managerial experience can negatively affect the future of the magazine."

"What's wrong with my condition?" Emily frowned. This dialogue was starting to go somewhere... not there.

Mr. Barkens looked down for a second at the girl's hands folded on her lap, and then looked at her face again, "In the first trimester, toxicosis may not be felt, but by the third it will be hard for you to work.

And we have a huge workload and constant deadlines. Your article received a wonderful response, which I admit with some annoyance. But are you sure you can run the magazine with a small child in your arms?"

The manner in which the man asked the question seriously, even Emily had doubts for a couple of seconds. Maybe I better buy a pregnancy test? Who knows, maybe there are two strips? Well, holy spirit's miracle and all...

The girl sighed. With such a fantasy, these men need to write romance novels for the whole team. Bestsellers are guaranteed!

"Mr. Barkens, I'm not pregnant," Emily said in the most honest way.

"And-"

"And no, Mr. Evans is not going to assign the magazine for me," she replied, ahead of the question.

"Are you sure?"

She really wanted to roll her eyes, but if you think about it, Emily herself caused such rumors. But who spread them...

The image of a disgruntled Cerberus in a skirt from the boss's reception surfaced in the girl's head. Someone (probably named Stephanie) had a tongue that was too long.

"I'm sure. Only if Mr. Evans does not go crazy and decides to give Pharaoh to the first person he meets, and I turn up at his hand."

"Well, okay then," Gregor said with a noticeable relief in his voice. "You are free."

And it's all? I am free?

Emily looked down at the human skull ashtray on the editor's desk. She also noticed several long candles standing on the closet behind the man. Is he conducting some shaman rituals here during lunch breaks?

There were even fewer reasons to stay in Gregor Barkens' office.

"Have a nice day, sir," the girl bowed and backed away toward the door. She didn't want to turn her back on the man.

"Have a nice day too, Miss Hayes. Do not forget to submit your articles on time. I'll be waiting," the editor replied in an even voice.

His tone made Emily want to sit down at the computer and get the job done. And no Justin Evans will distract her anymore! Overall, it is harmful to be nervous in her condition!