Valeria
“Are you sure you’re a psychologist?” the mother of my soon-to-be subject asked with a hint of skepticism. Of course, they had no idea he’d be the focus of my study, but still...
“Yes, I can show you my bachelor’s degree,” I replied, handing her a folder with my documents. “I’ve just started my master’s program…”
“I see,” she nodded. “I’ve already reviewed your credentials in your resume. By the way, you should remove your photos from your resume and online profiles. We’ll provide you with fake documents specifically for presenting to Max. Though I doubt he’ll check them, it’s better to be safe than sorry.”
“You mentioned I’d be taking on the role of an assistant?” I clarified.
“Yes, and please try to be responsible. Max can be unpredictable… He might fire you on the spot. Do your best to keep him satisfied,” she said, looking me straight in the eye.
“I hope you mean that in a professional sense?” I asked, no longer surprised by such ambiguities. In my job search, I’d stumbled across plenty of listings for “call center operators” or “social media managers” that turned out to be thinly veiled offers for work in less savory industries.
“No, I mean strictly in a work context,” she clarified. “He’s hard to please. You’ll need to be punctual, dependable, quick on your feet, and so on… You’ll be paid two salaries: one as his assistant and another as a psychologist. So, you’ll need to perform diligently in both roles.”
“Why does he need a psychologist?” I inquired.
“It’s been four months since his best friend died right in front of him, saving his life in the process,” Angelina Pavlovna sighed. “Since then, Max’s life has spiraled out of control… His fiancée tried to pull him out of it, but he pushed her away. Eventually, she ended up with his other best friend. So, in a short span, he lost three of the most important people in his life…”
“I understand now,” I nodded. “I’m guessing he refuses to see a therapist?”
“Exactly,” she confirmed with a nod. “He despises doctors and insists he’s ‘not crazy.’ Besides, he manages his work just fine remotely, and business is going well.”
“I hope we’ll get along,” I said with a smile.
“But he… How should I put this…” she hesitated, searching for the right words. “He might deliberately be rude or push you away. Right now, it seems like he just hates people in general…”
“Well, forewarned is forearmed,” I replied. “I’ll keep that in mind. Rudeness doesn’t scare me… Though, I might play the part of being upset by it, just so he doesn’t suspect anything, right?”
“You’ll have to gauge the situation yourself. Even I don’t know how to handle him anymore. We can’t even have a proper conversation,” she sighed.
“Got it… Once I get to know him better, I might be able to offer you some advice as a professional…”
“My main hope is that he can let go of some of this burden… I think he still blames himself for what happened,” the mother of my future charge explained.
“That’s quite common. But I’ll do everything in my power to help…”
After giving me all her instructions, she bid me goodbye, telling me my first workday would be tomorrow. I was to arrive at nine in the morning, and we’d head to her son’s place together.
I was thrilled to finally land a job with decent pay. I couldn’t wait to get started, so my words about looking forward to meeting her tomorrow were completely genuine.
“You don’t have a car?” Angelina Pavlovna asked. “My husband can give you a ride; he’s heading downtown anyway.”
“That’d be great,” I said. “I’d appreciate it.”
Public transport in this upscale neighborhood was scarce—everyone here seemed to own a car.
I stepped outside and spotted an expensive car waiting with the door open, clearly for me. The driver leaned out and said:
“You must be Valeria? I’m Victor, Angelina’s husband. I’ll give you a lift. Hop in.”
“Hello, yes, that’s me,” I smiled, sliding into the passenger seat. “Thank you.”
We pulled out of the driveway and drove in silence for a while. Once we hit a busier street, he spoke up:
“You know, my stepson really does have mental health issues. I think he’d be better off getting treatment abroad, in a specialized facility. But Angelina’s against it,” he sighed.
“Is it that serious?” I asked, a bit taken aback. From what his wife had said, I’d assumed Max might just be dealing with depression or an anxiety disorder, nothing requiring inpatient care.
“He has nightmares. He stayed with us once, and he was screaming half the night. But Angelina turns a blind eye. And that’s not even mentioning the phantom pains,” he sighed again. “In his state, running an entire shopping center is dangerous—for him and for the business. He’s like a ticking time bomb. So, I wanted to ask you for a favor… If you can gather evidence that he needs forced treatment, I’ll pay you ten times what my wife is offering for your undercover psychologist work.”
“That’s quite unexpected,” I said cautiously. “What kind of evidence are you talking about?”
“That’s for you to figure out. You’re the psychologist. Something that would convince psychiatrists to commit him,” he shrugged. “Or is that beyond your capabilities?”
“I can’t say anything yet. I haven’t even met your stepson…”
“Just keep it in mind. I know you’re planning to pursue a career in academia. That takes a lot more money than you might think,” he said. “You know how things work around here, unfortunately… And you’ve got to live on something.”
I stayed silent, my mind racing as I tried to figure out how to respond. I did want to continue my studies after my master’s, maybe even write a dissertation… But with my limited finances, that seemed nearly impossible. Still, I wasn’t about to commit to anything unethical. What if I agreed, only to find out Max was perfectly fine, and his stepfather pressured me to fabricate evidence of instability? I’d be in a bind just for agreeing…
“Maybe I won’t even get hired for this job,” I finally dodged. “Your wife warned me that her son might not take to me…”
“Angelina doesn’t get it,” Victor scoffed. “You look a lot like his first love, just a decade younger. I’m pretty sure he’ll hire you.”
“Then perhaps we can revisit this conversation after I’m officially hired?” I shrugged.
“Deal,” he nodded and parked the car. “Well, here we are…”
“Goodbye,” I said, stepping out of the car.
“See you later,” he replied. “Make sure to wear heels tomorrow—something mid-height. And dress modestly, but not too much. Think about it…”
He shut the door, and the car sped off. I watched it disappear, tuning into my gut feelings. Usually, my intuition was spot-on; I could sense what to do and what to avoid. But right now, it was silent. I thought about how this job could let me earn good money while doing what I love, without interfering with my studies since they’d agreed to let me attend my classes. Everything seemed to be falling into place perfectly. But little did I know what this would all lead to in the future…
Max
I liked pushing myself to the brink with exercise because when my body ached, everything else bothered me less. Right now, I’d been at it for three hours, only realizing it when a cramp seized my leg.
I left my personal gym and headed to the living room, intending to grab a drink from the kitchen, but I spotted my mother sitting on the couch, clearly waiting for me.
“What are you doing here?” I asked bluntly. Since that incident, I’d taken to asking everyone everything straight-up.
“Nice to see you too, son,” she smiled. “I came to check on how you’re feeling since you haven’t called in a few days…”
“I’ll let you in on a little secret—I never call you on my own,” I shrugged. “I’m fine, as if you don’t already know. I bet the cleaning lady spies on me for you. But I make sure she doesn’t see me. I’m not an idiot.”
My mother sighed and shook her head:
“Why would she spy on you? I’m just worried about you, and as usual, you’re looking for some hidden agenda…”
“Because all you care about is shipping me off to a psych ward,” I sneered. “Maybe not you, but your little boyfriend. And you just nod along to whatever he says.”
“Victor isn’t my boyfriend; he’s my husband,” she said, her lips tightening in offense. “And he raised you like his own son…”
“Yeah, right,” I smirked bitterly. “I’ll be grateful to him until the day he’s six feet under. His grave, not mine.”
“Let’s talk about something positive instead,” my mother grimaced but quickly forced a smile. “Like the business, for instance. Are you really going to keep working from home? Maybe you could show up at the shopping center for a few hours a week, attend some management meetings?”
“Everything’s running smoothly there, like clockwork,” I scoffed again. “And notice, that’s not thanks to your boyfriend—it’s all me. I’m the one who signed those leases that still bring in steady income.”
“But your employees need to see their leader in person, not just online. Otherwise, they won’t feel motivated to work. You need to build rapport with everyone, and yet you’ve fired another assistant. How many does that make now?”
“You, who’s always stayed at home and knows nothing about business, don’t get to lecture me on how to manage things. Especially since, under my leadership, we’re still turning a consistent profit,” I grinned triumphantly, knowing she’d have no comeback for that.
“But you still need a new assistant. It’s tough without one…”
“I’ll manage without assistants. They’re usually clueless, and it’s harder with them around. I’d rather do it myself than rely on some airhead,” I crossed my arms.
“Someone recommended a very bright young woman to me, a student. Maybe you could at least talk to her?”
The moment I heard “student,” I burst out laughing.
“A student? Seriously?” I looked at my mother.
“Well, she’s already got her bachelor’s, just one more year to go, and she’s humble, hardworking. She’s not like the others…”
“I’m not here to babysit or wipe her tears. If she can’t handle the job, she’s out immediately,” I said flat-out.
“You can do that, but I think you should at least talk to her first…”
“What, you’ve already dragged her here?” I frowned again. “And you said you just came to check on me.”
“She’s waiting in the hallway… I did come to see you, but I figured I’d bring Valeria along so you wouldn’t get annoyed with me dropping by too often…”
“Fair enough, I guess,” I conceded. “Fine, let her in. I’ll pile on the work right away, and she’ll probably quit on the spot.”
“One moment,” my mother quickly got up from the chair and left the room. I could hear them whispering about something—probably giving the student tips on how to deal with me. Then my mother returned, followed by a girl who did look modest and even a bit nervous.
“This is Valeria, the one I told you about,” my mother announced with a formal tone.
“I can tell by the scared student eyes,” I smirked.
“Hello,” she squeaked.
“Well, I’ll leave you two to it. I’ve got things to do, but I’m sure you’ll get along,” my mother smiled at the girl, grabbed her bag, and headed for the door. She turned back to me just before leaving: “Please, Max, be polite!”
As soon as she left the room, I stood up from my chair and approached the girl. I looked her over shamelessly, a smirk on my face.
“I’m not here to babysit or dry your tears. If you can’t handle the work, you’re out the door. I’m not the sympathetic type,” I said bluntly.
“Let’s get straight to business, then,” she replied in a professional tone. “I’d like to know more about what my responsibilities will entail.”