by R. S. Elliot
"Get some rest," I said, stripping my voice of any flirtation or sentimentality. She didn't need that right now. She needed safety, and the stability of her friends inside that house. "You've had a hell of a night. I hope the police catch the bastards."
"Thank you. I think I’ll report it in the morning. I’m so tired. Well, maybe not the morning." She laughed, light and bitter. "I’m actually starting orientation for a new job tomorrow morning, if you can believe that. I have to wake up in six hours."
"Six hours?" I echoed. Poor girl. "Better catch some shut eye then."
"I can try," She said, smiling weakly. I wanted to reach out and touch her, to take her hand or caress the curve of her milky cheek. Instead, I kept my hands on the handlebars where I could see them.
"Get some rest," I insisted. "And good luck at your new job tomorrow. I’m sure they’ll be lucky to have you."
And with that, without any further goodbyes, I kicked the engine into gear and started down the street. I couldn’t resist a glance over my shoulder at the corner to find Emily slotting her key into the door and slipping into the warm yellow light of her apartment. The blonde man from earlier held the door open for her while another girl, shorter with dark hair, wrapped Emily in a hug.
I berated myself mentally for not getting her number. But how could I ask that from a girl who just got carjacked and dumped on the side of the road? I guessed she was just going to be the one that got away for a while, but that realization tasted bitter in my mouth. I didn’t like to lose, if at all possible. But in a city this big, a second chance seemed impossible.
Chapter Five
Emily
The next morning didn’t go exactly as planned. Well, at all as planned. I slept through my first and second alarms and only rose to consciousness when my final warning alarm went off. When I looked at the clock and realized I only had twenty minutes to shower, dress, put on my best makeup, grab breakfast, and run to my subway stop, I felt any fight I had left in me fade away.
The whole horrible situation of last night, from the terrifying carjacking to the heart-pounding motorcycle ride home, came rushing back, and I felt like I was going to be crushed under the weight of it. When I tried to even approach the memory of the theft, a metallic taste bloomed in my mouth and my heart started pounding with panic. I couldn’t believe that had happened to me.
I knew I needed to get out of bed. I had to pull on my pantyhose and pack my lunchbox and get my ass to the subway stop. But I couldn't do it. I just couldn't.
I shut off my screaming alarm and pulled my phone into bed with me, dialing my mother’s phone number. I swallowed a knot in my throat while the call rang through, remembering how sweet Joannah had been to me the night before. I had started crying as soon as I opened my mouth to explain where our car had gone, but she had hugged me tightly and insisted that she didn’t care as long as I was safe. I was sure her tune would change once she realized she would have to ride the train out to see her parents, but for now, we were good. I hoped my mother would be just as generous.
To my great relief, she wasn’t angry at me for losing the car. She was nearly inconsolable when she heard that someone had pulled a gun on me.
"Bunny, are you sure you’re alright?" She said, using my childhood nickname.
"Yes," I muttered, face still pressed into the pillow.
"You could have died! Oh my God. I’m so sorry that happened to you."
"It’s alright, mom."
"It isn’t alright. Where are you? Back home now?"
"Yes, I’m in bed, but…" I swallowed again, blinking back tears. "I’m having trouble getting up. I was supposed to go into my new job today, but I just... I can’t. I know I need to go to work and I need to call the police but I... I’m sorry, I’m not making sense…"
I heard the distance scrape of a purse and keys being snatched up.
"It’s okay, I understand. I’m coming over."
"Are you sure?" I said voice cracking. "Aren’t you at work?”
"I’ll take the day. Really, Emily, it’s fine. I want to be with you right now. We’ll figure this out together, okay?"
"Okay," I said, dabbing at my face with the corner of my sheet. I felt so childish and weak to not be able to face the day myself, but I was immensely relieved my mother was coming to visit. It would take her almost an hour to get here from work, but maybe by then I would pull myself together and eat something.
When she arrived, she immediately swept me up in a crushing hug that smelled like face powder and her gourmand perfume. She was dressed for work, in the smart grey pencil skirt and matching blazer she wore as one of the concierge for a mid-list hotel near Times Square.
"I’m so happy you’re alright!" She exclaimed, as Peter looked askance at our bear hug from his spot loitering by the coffee pot in the apartment’s tiny kitchen. My fourth roommate Valerie had left for her retail job before I was awake, dressing in the thin dawn light in our shared bedroom. Peter got his coffee and then disappeared into the bedroom he shared with Hannah to leave me to my mother and my explanations.
I went over the whole event again in gory detail, once breaking down into tears while I described how scared I was.
"Emily," My mother said soothingly, rubbing small circles into my back as we sat on my bed. "You’ve experienced a trauma. It’s alright to be upset."
"I am upset," I sniffed. "I’m all rattled. But I’m even more angry that those men are making me miss work and turning me into a useless emotional invalid."
"You’re not an invalid. And there’s nothing stopping you from going to work."
I laughed bitterly. "I was supposed to get there an hour ago. You can’t explain being that late on the metro."
"Then don’t. Tell them you got carjacked, or don’t tell them anything. Just get in there and give it your best shot."
I pushed my hair out of my eyes. My hair had been down to my waist for as long as I remembered, and I developed a bad habit of hiding behind it in middle school. My mother had helped me move past that.
"Seriously?"
"Seriously. If anyone can pull this off, it’s my Bunny. You’re so smart. They’ll see that."
I threw my arms around my mother and gave her another crushing hug.
"I’m sorry you came all the way out here," I murmured into her jacket. She snorted.
"We had a huge tour group fly in from Indonesia today; I’d use any excuse to get out of there. Come on. Let’s get you spruced up and on the road."
Not quite two hours later, I was standing in front of the SkyBlue building, feeling very short even in my tallest heels and clutching my paper cup of coffee like a vise. I replayed the words that my mother had said over and over again when I was growing up whenever anything had gone poorly, from not getting the part I wanted in school plays to dealing with the shock of my father’s death when I was seventeen. You can have whatever you want from life if you just show up for it. Believe in yourself and others will too.
I swallowed hard. I wasn’t feeling confident in any of my abilities that morning, much less myself, but New York was all about faking it until you made it. If I had managed to land an interview and managed to be offered a spot at this company, I could certainly rise to the challenge and take it, no matter what happened to me last night. I wanted Paris enough, that was certain. I would show up for anything that got me closer to relaxing in the sun on the banks of the Seine, chatting in French with students from all over the world. Nothing, not carjackers, not marathon orientation meetings, not even the specter of Luke Thorpe and his demands could scare me away from that.
I drained the rest of my cup of coffee, tossed it into a nearby trash can, and straightened the collar of my forest green blouse. Then I pushed through the gleaming rotating doors of SkyBlue Solutions and stepped into the first day of the rest of my life.
Did you enjoy the Prequel?
Book 1 (Beauty and the Boss) with continue Emily’s and Luke’s story and will release in the next few weeks.
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