City of Sin

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City of Sin Page 23

by Ivy Smoak


  Mason laughed. "You're so naive. You really don't belong in the city." There was a playful twinkle in his eyes.

  "Yes I do." I poked him in the middle of his chest. "I'm going to have a good job, a good salary, and the man of my dreams. I'm killing it in this city. I'm owning New York."

  "The man of your dreams?" His normally charming smile suddenly seemed wicked and seductive.

  "Yeah. The man of my dreams."

  "Well, maybe we should celebrate by making all your dreams come true." He raised his eyebrow at me.

  "I was hoping you'd say that."

  He leaned down and placed a soft kiss against my lips. His fingers ran down my back, stopping at the arch as he pulled me against him. And in an instant I knew that we were okay. All the tension seemed to evaporate when his tongue parted my lips and a low moan escaped from his. He really was the man of my dreams. My naughty, sinful dreams.

  Chapter 59

  Bee

  As I stepped off the elevator, Jenkins stepped on with a box full of his personal belongings.

  "Jenkins, I'm sor..."

  "Save it, Bridget. You didn't like the idea anyway. Not that what happened was my fault. That piece of shit is throwing the blame on me. He was the one that made the call. He's the one that should get the can, not me. That old son of a bitch. I'll show him."

  "I hope you do."

  Jenkins laughed. "Later, Bridget." The elevator doors closed behind him.

  I meant what I said. I didn't get along with Jenkins, but I was sorry that he had gotten fired. This whole mess was Mr. Ellington's fault. Jenkins shouldn't have been the one to take the blame. But at the same time, there was a little pep in my step. Because his job was going to be mine. And if I needed to remind Mr. Ellington I had what it took, I had a whole speech prepared.

  I pulled my coat off and laid it across the back of my chair. I rubbed my hands together to help warm them. Mr. Ellington's office door was closed. I wasn't sure when the best time to talk to him would be. Maybe first thing. But he had just fired Jenkins. Maybe he was in a firing kind of mood.

  My thought process was disturbed when something lightly touched my shoulder, making me jump.

  Kendra laughed. "Geez, a little amped up, huh?"

  "Yeah. I was just trying to decide if I should go talk to him. I saw Jenkins on the way out."

  "You missed the show. He threw a stapler at Mr. Ellington's head. It was hilarious."

  "Really? Wow, I can't picture Jenkins doing that at all."

  "People do crazy stuff when they get fired."

  "They do." I pulled my chair out and sat down.

  "What are you doing? Aren't you going to go talk to him?"

  "I think maybe I should wait till a little later. He might be in a bad mood if he just got hit with a stapler."

  "He dodged it."

  "Still." I shrugged my shoulders. I could feel myself wimping out.

  "Don't give him more time to find a replacement for Jenkins. Show him it's you. No, tell him it's you. Bring back Kick Ass Bee for a few minutes."

  "Okay." My heart was starting to beat really fast. I was so nervous. "You're right." I stood up from my chair. "I'll do it now."

  "Attagirl."

  I smoothed down my skirt before knocking on Mr. Ellington's door. You got this, Bee.

  "Come in," Mr. Ellington's gruff voice sounded through the door.

  I took a deep breath and opened up the door. "Can I speak to you for a second?"

  He gestured for me to come into the room. "Close the door behind you, Bridget."

  It always made me nervous when I was alone with him. I wasn't sure if it was because he was my boss or because of how his eyes always seemed to travel down my whole body.

  "What can I do for you?" he asked, not looking up from his desk.

  Crap. He was in a bad mood. I knew I should have waited. I cleared my throat. "Is this a good time, Mr. Ellington?"

  He sighed and looked up at me. "It's Joe, Bridget. Please just call me Joe."

  "Sorry. Joe," I said. His name sounded weird coming out of my mouth. But I'd rather start the meeting off on a good tone.

  He smiled. "Take a seat."

  As I sat down, he stood up. He walked over to the side of the desk I was on and sat down on it, so that he was staring down at me. It seemed like a friendly thing to do, but I couldn't shake the feeling that he had done it so he could stare down my shirt. I leaned back slightly.

  "So, Bridget. What can I do for you?"

  "Well, I heard that there was a new ad exec job opening."

  Mr. Ellington laughed. "I'm pretty sure everyone heard that when Jenkins was yelling at me."

  I smiled. "Right. Well, I've been thinking a lot about my position here..."

  "Your position?" He raised his left eyebrow. "You mean, directly beneath me?"

  "Umm...yes. About that..."

  He held up his hand. "I know what this is about."

  "You do?"

  "I do. We had discussed you getting a promotion a few weeks ago. And you never came in for a follow up discussion."

  When he had mentioned a promotion before he had made it seem dirty. Like he wanted me to start giving him hand jobs under his desk or something. That was why I had never followed up. But maybe I had it all wrong. Maybe he had been planning on giving me an advertising job the whole time. Maybe he actually liked my idea.

  "Exactly," I said. "I was hoping we could discuss that a little more."

  "What did you want your promotion to entail?"

  "Well, do you remember my idea from a few weeks ago? For Sword Body Wash. Partnering with the Knicks cheerleaders..."

  Mr. Ellington swiped his hand through the air. "Jenkins lost us that account. But your idea wasn't a good fit for the brand anyway. We've already discussed that."

  I wasn't expecting him to say that. "Okay, well, I know that the only thing that a company cares about is making money." I regurgitated what he had said at our other meeting back to him. And it felt like I was regurgitating it for real, because it wasn't true. Sword Body Wash cared about their image and their brand. But that wasn't what Mr. Ellington wanted to hear. He wanted to hear that he was right. And I really wanted this promotion.

  "Exactly, Bridget. Which means we always have to give our clients the very best. Experience means everything to our clients. Experience which you do not have."

  Shit. "I have a lot of other ideas, though. Maybe we could go through them?"

  "This wasn't exactly the direction I thought you'd want to go," he said.

  "What direction did you see me going?"

  "South. Definitely south." His eyes wandered down my body in that way that chilled me to the bone.

  "Mr. Ellington..."

  "Personal assistant."

  "What?"

  He laughed. "I want to promote you to my personal assistant."

  "Oh." My heart was beating out of my chest. Maybe all of this was in my head. He was actually trying to give me a normal promotion. It was just one that I wasn't interested in.

  "I was hoping you'd be a little more excited."

  "No. I am. But, Mr. Ellington..."

  "If you're going to be my personal assistant, I think we need to get on a more personal level, don't you?" He stood up, clearly not wanting me to respond. He put his hand on my shoulder. "First, you need to start calling me Joe."

  I felt frozen in place. I wanted to push his hand off my shoulder. I wanted to tell him to stop looking at me in that disgusting way. But I couldn't seem to find the words. I just sat there staring at him.

  "You're beautiful, Bridget. You do know that, right? That's why you've been teasing me for months?" His hand moved to my neck and his fingers grabbed the collar of my shirt, pulling it down slightly. He ran his thumb along my collarbone. His hands felt clammy against my skin. "So let's get a little more personal. How about you put those lips of yours to good use. I could really use a pick me up after the morning I've been having."

  He unbuttoned the top
button of his suit pants with his other hand. "And maybe you can work up to that ad exec position you so badly want. After I get what I want. Which is trying out every position with you." He unzipped his pants.

  "Mr. Ellington..." My voice finally kicked in again. But it sounded so weak. It was more of a whisper.

  "Joe. My name is Joe. It's okay, Bridget. I know you're nervous. I know how badly you want this promotion. How about you get on your knees and show me you have what it takes."

  Oh, hell no. I finally willed my body to move and I elbowed him right in the groin. Luckily he still had his boxers on so I didn't have to feel his surely small dick against my arm.

  "Fuck!" He yelled and took a step back, grabbing his crotch.

  I stood up and pointed my finger at him. "I will never, ever get on my knees for a promotion. I am not a hooker." The thought of Mason working with those women popped into my head. But it was quickly squashed down when Mr. Ellington spoke.

  "You bitch!" His eyes bulged slightly. They finally weren't looking at me in that creepy way. "You're fired," he spat out.

  "What?"

  "If I had known how prude you were, I wouldn't have hired you in the first place."

  "I thought you hired me because of my degree? Because you thought I might have a place at this ad agency. That's what we talked about when you hired me. That's why I took this job in the first place."

  He laughed. "Welcome to New York, honey. Now get the hell out of my office."

  I wanted to say something clever, but the look on his face was enough. Elbowing his junk was more satisfying than anything I could say. I turned around and walked out of his office with my head held high.

  As soon as I stepped out of the office, my confidence waivered. The people in the cubicles near Mr. Ellington's office were staring at me. They had probably heard us yelling at each other. Kendra would be over any second, wondering if I got the promotion.

  I quickly pulled open my drawers and grabbed all their contents. I didn't have that much in my desk that was actually mine. Most of it belonged to Kruger Advertising. I pulled open the last drawer. There was a picture frame facing downward in it. I had completely forgotten that it was even there. I picked it up and turned it over. It was the first picture that Patrick and I had of us together. We were sitting on a couch in his frat house. His arm was wrapped around my shoulders. I looked so happy. If I closed my eyes I could picture this moment like it was yesterday. We had just had our first kiss. I looked happy in the picture because I was happy, happier than I had ever been. I was so in love with him. Looking at the picture a month ago would have made my chest tighten. But it didn't now. The city had changed him, but it had changed me too. I ran my finger across Patrick's smiling face. It seemed like a distant memory.

  I put the picture back into the drawer and closed it. I didn't need it anymore. I had lost that feeling when I had lost him. It had just taken me a long time to realize it. I shoved my pens, notebook, and few pictures that still lined my desk into my purse. I had just lost my job, but I didn't have a whole box like Jenkins because I never belonged here in the first place. I grabbed the vase of flowers with the dozen roses that Mason had sent me.

  I thought that all New York did was take. It took Patrick from me. It took my self confidence. It took all my money. But now I loved this stupid city, because if I hadn't moved here, I never would have met Mason. The city had taken a lot, but it had given me more. Mason was the reason that the picture of Patrick no longer bothered me. I wasn't in love with Patrick anymore. I was in love with Mason.

  I'm in love with Mason Caldwell.

  I pressed the elevator button. I needed to tell him.

  "Bee!" Kendra was slightly out of breath as she ran up to me. She looked at the flowers in my arm and then back at my face. "What happened?"

  "I got fired."

  "Seriously? Why?"

  "Because I wouldn't suck his dick."

  Kendra laughed. "Wait." She grabbed my arm. "He didn't actually ask you to do that?"

  "In those words? No. But he undid his pants and told me to get on my knees."

  "Holy shit. Bee, you have to tell someone."

  "Who? My boss?"

  "I don't know. Someone on the board maybe? There's people above him. He didn't start this company. It's sexual harassment. You could win that lawsuit."

  "I really just want to put it behind me. I'm going to find something better."

  "Anything is better than that. But what are you going to do? You couldn't afford your rent as it was."

  For the first time, I realized what losing my job actually meant. I didn't have any money. It was possible that my bank account was at zero. I had student loans. And my rent was past due. I hadn't been to my place in so long I had completely forgotten to pay Naomi. "I..." my voice trailed off. "I don't know. I just felt so good about elbowing him in the groin that I hadn't really processed what was happening. I just lost my job."

  "You elbowed his dick?" Kendra started laughing.

  "And now I'm going to be homeless."

  "You're not homeless. You can come stay with me."

  "But I can't afford half the..."

  "I was paying it by myself anyway. Just until you get another job. Then you can pay half." She smiled at me. "You didn't think I was going to let you run back to Wilmington, did you? You belong here."

  Several weeks ago I would have fought with her about that. But she was right. This is where I belonged. At least, this is where I needed to be right now. "Are you sure?"

  "Of course I'm sure. I've been begging you to come live with me for months. Now you have no choice."

  I laughed and gave her a big hug. "Thanks, Kendra. You're the best."

  "I'm glad you're not pissed at me. I'm sorry if I got your hopes up. I really thought that position would be yours."

  "Me too. It's not your fault. You're still the best."

  She laughed. "I can't wait to shove that in Marie's face. She won't stop talking about how awesome she is since things have been going so well between you and Mason."

  I released Kendra from my hug. "About that. When is it too soon to tell someone that you love them?"

  Kendra smiled. "Wait for him to do that first."

  "Okay. But what if..."

  "Trust me, Bee. Let him say it first. If you're feeling that way, I'm sure he is too."

  The elevator doors dinged open and I stepped on. Her words didn't really deter me. Mason had already told me he loved me. Right back there on my desk. I smiled to myself and stepped onto the elevator.

  "Should I come over tonight to help you get your stuff?" Kendra asked.

  "It's okay. I'm going to ask Mason to help me."

  "Of course you are. See you later, roomie."

  I smiled as the elevator doors closed.

  ***

  I pulled out the last box that was in the corner of my closet. I lifted off the lid. It was filled with things that Patrick had left here. Including his worn University of New Castle t-shirt that I always used to sleep in. After I had kicked him out I had slept in it until his scent had completely disappeared. There was a scrapbook at the bottom of the box that I had made him, which led up to a photo that his friend had snapped of his proposal. I didn't open it. He had left a few CDs and movies here when he had moved out. Things that we had listened to or watched together. I was pretty sure he had done it to torture me. I had sat in that same shirt crying, watching Fight Club. Which was ridiculous.

  I'd just throw the box away. I was done thinking about Patrick. I didn't even feel sad about leaving the apartment. Moving in with Kendra would be a fresh start. I could officially leave the past in the past. Coming back to this apartment while I was dating Mason had felt strange anyway. Like I was holding on to something. I was ready to let go. I put the lid back on top of the box.

  Shit. Patrick still had a key. And I couldn't afford to pay the replacement fee. I pulled out my phone and quickly texted him.

  "I'm moving out of our old place today. I
need your key. And I have some stuff you left here. Could you stop by after work?" I pressed the send button.

  I already knew what his response would be. He had to work late and wouldn't be able to come. That was always what he responded back to me when we were together. And he'd wait awhile to respond. He wouldn't want me to think he didn't have anything better to do than text me. Which was stupid. Because everyone always had their phones on them. I almost jumped when my phone vibrated right away.

  "I'm on a lunch break. Can I come now?"

  So maybe that was just the way he acted when I cared if I got a response. "Yeah. I'm packing now. See you soon." I put my phone back down on the floor.

  The last time I had been alone with Patrick was right here in this apartment. I had thrown my engagement ring at him. I ran my thumb along the spot where the ring had once been. I had spent five years of my life loving him. It was weird for that to suddenly mean so little.

  I stood up and grabbed the wedding dress from the closet. It was the last thing hanging there. Patrick had never seen it. And he never would. I opened up the lid of the box labeled "donate" and put the dress inside. I never even tried it on after I got it. I quickly put the lid back on the box.

  I wasn't in love with Patrick anymore. But that dress still made me want to cry. A wedding dress is full of hope. This one should have been black and ragged. It only symbolized our end. And I couldn't wait to drop if off at Goodwill.

  There was a scraping sound in the lock on my door. Patrick was just letting himself in without knocking, like he belonged here, like he still belonged in my life despite everything that had happened. The door opened and he looked down at me. He gave me a small smile and leaned against the door frame.

  "Hey." I stood up and pointed down at the box filled with his stuff. "While I was packing I found some of your stuff if you want it. And I'll take that key."

  "You got it," he said and tossed the key to me. I caught it in my hand. It was strange that I had never asked for it back. I kept hoping we'd be able to work it out. Asking for his key back seemed so final.

  "I'm glad you still had it." I realized now that it was stupid for me to ask for it. It would have only cost a few dollars to get a copy made. Maybe a small part of me just wanted him to know that I was moving on too. That I was finally ready to let go.

 

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