“You just said that money can buy you almost anything and now you're telling me it isn’t everything. Which one is it?”
“I said some people think that. I didn’t say it was right. Sophie, it's what's in a guy’s heart that counts,” I tell her. “You can find a man who will buy you the world. But it doesn't mean a damn thing if he doesn’t really care about you.”
Sophie’s expression softens. “That sounds sweet and all. But if a dude bought me a hot red Ferrari, I think I'd be pretty damn happy.”
I chuckle, heading into the kitchen. I can’t really argue with that, especially with a sixteen year old. I fill a glass from the tap and drain it. It has to help in flushing this drug out of my system. “You really don’t need to be thinking about boys right now, though,” I say.
This silences Sophie, and I have to wonder if that means she’s already got a boyfriend. I don’t want to smother her, so I’m just going to forget about it for now. I’m her big brother, and while I take raising her very seriously, I’m not Dad.
I walk over to the couch and almost stumble, having to grab ahold of it to prevent myself from falling flat on my face.
Sophie is at my side in an instant. “Are you all right?” Concern laces her words. It’s the one thing I have to give Sophie. I might annoy her and piss her off with my rules, but she doesn't want to see me hurt. She even tries to pamper me some. I’ve come home from a late night at work to find her curled up on the couch, a homemade dinner sitting on the stove, and a note for me propped on top.
“I’m fine,” I say gently, brushing her aside. “Just tired.”
Sophie walks over in front of me and crosses her arms, staring at me suspiciously. “Something happened tonight, didn't it? I’ve seen you be out later and come home looking a lot better than this. You look like something the cat dragged in.”
I nod. “The grand opening was a major success. Nathan and I are both pleased.”
Sophie scowls. “No, don’t even try it.” She gestures at me. “Look at you. Your shirt looks like you got into a fight with Wolverine.” She shakes her head. “I’ve never seen you come home like this before.”
I think about denying more, then change my mind. “Something was in one of the drinks I had. It messed me up pretty good. Nathan’s double-checking the video with the security guys to see if it was intentional,” I tell her. It’s enough of the truth to satisfy her, but she doesn’t need to know all the details.
“Jesus, Jake, are you okay?” Sophie asks, sitting down next to me. “Should you go get checked out at the hospital?”
“No, I’m fine,” I reassure her. “Just a little sluggish. I’ll be as good as new in the morning, trust me.”
“Still . . .” Sophie says, going quiet. She curls up against me, putting her head on my chest, and I adjust, sliding an arm around her shoulders and squeezing. Maybe it’s the club, maybe it’s the drug in my drink, but I don’t mind it right now. I can use a little bit of reassurance that I’m doing the right thing by her.
“I know,” I whisper quietly. “I miss them too.”
“I miss them so much,” Sophie says, her voice thick, and if I could turn my head again, I know she’d be crying softly. Instead, I hug her and kiss the top of her head.
“Sophie, I know I’ll never replace Dad, but bear with me. I’m kinda learning this parenting shit on the fly, you know? But that’s why I was so harsh earlier. I don’t care about money, and I don’t want you to either. You want that red Ferrari? You graduate college and I’ll get you one. I’d rather you actually fall in love with the man, not with his bank account. You can marry the garbage man for all I care.”
Sophie hugs me tighter. “There’s nobody better than my big brother.”
“Yeah, well, I love you too,” I reassure her.
We sit there like that for a few moments before my phone buzzes and I fish it out of my pocket. “It’s Nathan.”
Sophie grumbles but gets up. “I’ll let you guys talk then,” she says. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
I give her a smile and a nod. “Yo, Nathan,” I answer the phone. “You realize what time it is?”
“Hey, man, this night was crazy!” Nathan says, still buzzing off adrenalin. “I can't believe what happened. We’ll keep an eye out for both, but that dude is done if he comes back.”
“Thanks,” I reassure him. “Is that all?”
“Nah, man. Other than your deal, the club opening was as good as we could’ve imagined. We’re going to make millions by next year, just wait and see. I already have three more bands lined up.”
I stare at my phone, still wondering why the hell Nathan’s calling. “Nathan, couldn’t this wait until morning?”
“Yeah, I guess. I’m just excited.” Nathan says, slightly chagrined. “Yo, man, about the girl . . . we kinda lost her. She walked out with a friend, but we’re gonna keep working on it.”
I nod to myself. Roxy . . . if only I could talk to her again to clear this up. “Don’t worry about her. I’m sure it’s all a misunderstanding. The guy is more of a concern. If he did that at our club, you can guarantee he’s doing it elsewhere too.”
“Okay, man, just . . . get some sleep. I just want you to know, this club . . . it’s our rocket to the moon, baby. Rest easy.”
“You too. Goodnight,” I say, hanging up on him and lying back. I’m pretty sure I’m asleep before I even hit the couch cushion.
Roxy
I'm a ball of nerves when I arrive at work Monday. It took me until nearly midnight last night to relax. Every time I heard a car outside on the street, I swore it was the cops ready to drag me off to jail. Eventually, Hannah got me to relax, but I still had to give myself some serious self-love to be able to get to sleep.
I’ve done pretty good with it so far since I got to work. I was even able to eat some breakfast after Hannah gave me a pep talk. I just need to focus on today. I don’t want to look like an idiot the first day I meet my new boss.
But still, as I check on the second floor for interoffice mail, I can’t stop thinking about him. How his lips felt against me. His hard body pressed into mine. The feeling of grinding on him, even if he was still inside his pants. It was . . . heartstopping.
I brush my desires and troublesome thoughts away as I take a deep breath and step off the elevator with a stack of papers in my hand, adjusting my black skirt with my right hand before making my way across the floor to my work area. Our office is at the top of a high-rise building downtown and has been around for decades. The floor plan isn’t my favorite, an open floor with cubicles that make me feel like either I’m constantly running a maze or that the agents are going to show up to arrest me for talking to Morpheus.
The board room is down the hall, past the coffee room and bathrooms, while along three of the walls are several glass offices for the higher-ups. Along the far back wall are three mostly unused meeting rooms, what a lot of us ‘cubey cats’ call the firing room, since the executives never fire someone in their own offices and they don’t like giving out pink slips in public.
“Here are the papers Byron wanted,” I say, bending over to place the stack on my co-worker, Matt Brown’s, desk. I don’t want to. I know he’s getting a decent view down my blouse, but I have to or else I’m going to lose the rest of my stuff all over the place.
Matt glances up from his laptop, raising his eyebrows, his widow’s peak going back on his head, making him look like the old young version of Eddie Munster. He’s tall and skinny, with pale reddish hair and brown eyes.
I expect him to at least give me a thank you. You know, tell me how grateful he is about having me run down to the mail room to get his shit for him. Instead, he sighs. “Damn, Rox, took you long enough.” He looks at me critically, up and down. “You get some decent makeup yet?”
He’s subtly insinuating that I’m starting to sag and look older, which makes me want to laugh. I might have a stress wrinkle or two, but it’s nowhere near what his baggy hound dog eyes have hanging u
nder them. I grit my teeth but I don’t snap back. He’s always picking at me, trying to get under my skin, so I’m not taking the bait. Besides, I know I look good. I’m a fabulous bitch. Or I’d better be, given how long I spent in the mirror this morning. Matt’s probably jealous he can't pull off the skirt, blouse, and heels I’m wearing.
I laugh, not letting him know he gets on my last nerve. He’s really the only one here whom I dislike. “Let’s not, Matthew. I’m trying to be nice today.” I’m not gonna tell you about how I want to take that tie and choke you with it, I think inwardly. Maybe hang you from the window as a warning to all those who try to fuck with me—run away as fast as you can.
“Let’s not what?” he asks, hiding his smirk. “I was just asking you a question. How was your weekend?”
He knows damn well what he meant, but I’m not going to entertain him. “It was good. Stopped a few hearts, broke a few necks, and stomped a few balls. Ya know, the usual.”
He leans back in his chair, chuckling. “You know what, Roxy? I like you. Maybe we should hang out sometime. Have a few drinks after work?”
No way in hell. I’d rather take the Devil out for drinks. He’d only want me around to get drunk and then have the freedom to make me the punchline of his jokes.
“Sorry, got plans,” I say politely. I can't resist getting a little twist in, though, and add cheerfully, “Although I have a friend named Brad who you’d absolutely fall in love with.”
Matt arches an eyebrow. “Brad?”
I nod. “Mmmhmm. He’s tall, blond, blue-eyed, and he can drop his ass to the floor like you’ve never seen, then work it back up nice and slowly until you’re throbbing in your pants.”
Matt laughs nervously. “Hey, what are you trying to say?”
Before I can reply, Byron Smith, one of the top level executives, walks over. His tie is loose around his neck, and his combed-over greying hair gives him sort of a cloudy appearance. He’s tall, and despite his skinny neck, he’s got a big potbelly that’s almost cartoonish over his chicken legs. I have no idea why he hangs around Matt. There’s a huge gap in age, and Byron’s duties have nothing to do with me or Matt. But when the two get together, it’s like two grade schoolers. I swear they’ve swapped fart jokes sometime over the past year.
“Hey, Matt,” Byron says, grinning foolishly. “Have you heard about the new computer password system?”
“No, what about it?” Matt asks, and I roll my eyes. I’ve heard this one before.
“Well, we have to put in new passwords,” Byron says. “Tom down the hall went in and decided that his new password would be Tomspenis. He puts it in, and you won’t believe what the computer told him.”
“What?” Matt asks, grinning.
“It said Try again. Tomspenis is not long enough.”
I try not to roll my eyes or to turn it around on them. Instead, I just gather up my stuff. “That’s my cue to get back to work,” I say. “Talk to you later.”
I leave the two to continue their weird bromance. Their relationship just confounds me.
I walk through the maze and around the corner to my cubicle, glad to have my own little space that I’ve personalized a little. My heels are muted against the tough industrial-grade carpet, and more than once, I’ve considered ditching them for flats, except that the company does have visitors who expect them. I open my computer and login to my desktop, getting ready for the day. Franklin Consolidated was one of the first companies to build this city, and despite being bought in a corporate takeover, it still has prestige. We’re in some of the top floors of our high-rise, and the view out the windows in the break room are breathtaking. Overall, despite it being corporate drudgery, I could be doing a lot worse. Besides dealing with Matt’s bullshit, this place isn’t that bad.
I’m not gonna let that dickhead get me down. I figure I’ll get another promotion soon and move out of this cube-farm and into the outer ring offices, and then I won’t have to deal with him. Really, I’m just nervous about this new Regional President. It’s been hush-hush about who he is, the corporation that bought Franklin Consolidated keeping things quiet. It’s like they want it to be some sort of national security top secret or something. That, combined with knowing I still have Jake’s wallet, is making me a big ball of butterflies.
There’s a commotion going around the room, and as my email loads, I see why. The new boss is going to be in soon and everybody is excited. Or maybe nervous is probably the better word.
“Hey, Roxy, you excited?” Hannah asks. She’s dressed to kill today, with a knee-length pencil skirt that shows off her toned legs and a blouse that is just a little tighter than normal. I guess she’s playing it up some, but she’s certainly got the right to.
“I think I’m holding up well,” I say, flashing an anxious smile. “Just hoping he’s not a huge pain in the ass,” I whisper.
Hannah shakes her head. “I’d be nervous too if I were tabbed to be his assistant. Well, that and worried that the cops could kick down the door any minute. Say, how do you think you’d look in an orange jumpsuit? I hear orange is the new black.”
I hold my scowl for all of two seconds before I can’t help but laugh. “I can’t be pissed with you,” I say, leaning back. Her jokes actually make me feel less anxious. I’d do the same if she were in my position. “By the way, if I’m going to jail, you’re going to jail too as an accomplice. Preferably to be cellies with some six-foot-tall girl named Missy who’s hungry for blondes.”
Hannah laughs. “Come on, that’s why we’re friends. We’re each other’s spirit animal. And I know if I get Missy as my cellie, you and I can alternate days on being her bitch.”
“We are, I agree. Except you’re more of a beast than an animal, and I’m not muff diving for you no matter who it is.”
Hannah laughs. “Glad to see you back to normal.”
“I have Jake’s wallet,” I say after a moment, sobering again. “It’s here in my purse.”
“I’ll go with you after work and we can turn it in at the club,” Hannah says. “I’ll be your backup just in case.”
“Thank you.”
Right then, we hear talking, so Hannah and I stand up to see Tom Powers, the CEO of Franklin Consolidated, at the head of the room. He’s a tall, distinguished man with white hair, dressed as always in his dark double-breasted suit. He’s totally old school, but in a grandfatherly sort of way. I heard that he’s taking retirement with the corporate takeover, and if so, I’m going to miss him around.
“Hello, everyone, if I can have your attention, please?” he says. “Come on up if you’d like, or if you can see just fine, your cubicles are okay. Anyway, I’d like to take a few minutes to thank you all. I know that the rumor mill has been running overtime for the past few months, and . . .”
I tune Tom out a little, thinking about the day. After this, I need to finish checking my emails, then there’s the report from the agribusiness division that I’ll need to get together for my new boss . . . I wonder if he’s nice? I wonder if he’s a he, or maybe a she?
I know who I’d like to be working under. The dirty part of my mind fills with a picture of Jake in his suit. He was so powerful, so decisive, but at the same time a gentleman. The way he commanded everything and everyone without being a braggart or a loudmouth oozed confidence and masculinity. And yeah, the way he kissed me . . .
“Shit,” I mutter to myself as I shake my head. I’ve missed most of what Tom’s said already. Focus, Roxy, focus!
“For over seventy years, Franklin Consolidated has stood as a pillar of this community, and while our corporate headquarters is obviously changing, I can assure you that we will continue to serve this city and its people . . .”
“Oh, my God,” Hannah whispers next to me. She jostles my elbow, and I glance at her just as Tom wraps up.
“My Franklin family, it’s with great regret to confirm that yes, after this month, I will be retiring. However, I am confident in the hands that I’m leaving Franklin in. Wi
thout further ado, I’d like to introduce the new Regional President . . . Jake Stone.”
“Is that . . .?” Hannah whispers as Jake steps up next to Tom. I turn white as a sheet and drop down quickly before he can see me, Hannah squatting down next to me. “Roxy?”
“I’m dead . . . I’m fucking dead,” I whisper, looking at Hannah, terrified. “What the hell am I supposed to do now? I almost slept with and killed my new boss!”
Jake
I stand before the window in my new office, looking out with my hands clasped behind my back. It’s just after lunch, and the whole city lies before me, sparkling in the sunlight. This is a far better view than what I had at my old office. I can see the entire city and even the mountains in the distance.
I feel powerful. Like the world is at my fingertips, and while I haven’t climbed the mountain yet, I’m getting there.
Even my office is better, a large, classical executive room with a polished oak desk and a large leather tufted chair. The shelves are lined with bookcases, and I’ve found it’s more than just the standard assortment of old law books or regulatory books, but there are all sorts of things. I’ve found leather-bound classics of fiction, biographies of great leaders, and more. This could rival a lot of small school libraries.
Franklin Consolidated really wanted my talents. I found out that they requested me specifically, so they rolled out the red carpet for me. My arrival has been well-received so far, but I’ve already noticed one problem.
I saw who was standing in the crowd. It was just a moment. I barely caught sight of that angelic face. I swear, I blinked and it was gone, and later on, I couldn’t find her when I walked the cubicle maze. But I know what I saw. She might be in my dreams, but I’m not imagining things.
I turn slightly when I hear the door open behind me, bringing me back to the tasks I have at hand. “Is there anything I can get you, Mr. Stone?” says Elena May, my new interim secretary, an elderly woman dressed in a crisp pantsuit. She used to work for Tom, and I gratefully accepted her services from him. “You told me to check in right after lunch.”
Dirty Laundry Page 35