The Temp

by Cates, A. K

  Trigger was primed in soft beige slack pants and a light woolly jumper. His hair was shower fresh gold spilling over his ears. His eyes were incandescent in the light of day. Waking up in Trigger’s apartment had been an eye opener. In the daylight things weren’t as black and white as they seemed in the darkness. There was colour flecked about in soft brown furnishings and potted plants.

  “You play the piano?” she said. A grand slate grey piano stood in the far corner against morning grey buildings and flecks of ever green Park.

  “Not in a long time, I broke part of my hand a few years ago. It hasn’t been the same since,” Trigger turned away busying with the frypan. “I was stupid enough to think I could box and play piano.”

  Eve walked back down the hallway to her en-suite and shower. What was she still doing here? She should leave. She could only get involved with one guy. And it couldn’t be Trigger. And if she couldn’t have Roman then…

  She left later that day in a taxi and arrived back to her apartment block. She hadn’t told Trigger what had happened last night and he didn’t appear in the mood to push her. Good. She didn’t have it in her to tell him she’d failed again. Especially given she was losing more than just her dignity, things had changed, escalated. Her heart fluttered every time she thought of Roman.

  What could she do? He didn’t want her and she…well-

  *

  The flowers came the next day, hoards and hoards of them. A thousand tulips in every colour imaginable stuffed into her tiny apartment and a single note attached to one of them.

  I’m sorry. Rome

  That was it?! In only a few words, so much had to be said. Where to begin? I’m sorry.

  She laughed out loud in a choke. What a pitiful response to her broken heart. What was he actually sorry for? Breaking her heart? Staying away from her? Going their separate ways? Or was he sorry for ever having met her? For letting her go down on him in the car without out which the accident would never have happened?

  Eve shuddered back the tears. There was no use crying. Many woman had already cried over Roman Pierce in the past.

  She wouldn’t be the first and she definitely wouldn’t be the last. She tore up the note. If she could afford it she’d send all of the flowers back.

  They were here and there was nothing she could do about it except have them as a reminder why she couldn’t be with Roman Pierce.

  46

  The call came the next day.

  “Eve, how are you?” Roman said down the phone.

  She had a moment to stare open mouthed at the receiver. “I know you’re there.”

  “It’s the first time you’ve ever asked how I am. Don’t you want to know what I’m wearing?” there was an edge to her voice.

  “Please Eve. Don’t ruin those memories I have of you. I want to know how you are.”

  “Why do you care?” she snapped.

  “Because. I. Do.” She could picture him grinding his teeth on the other side and clenching his jaw like he always did when he was tense, when she made him tense.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Elaborate,” he commanded.

  “My mind is sound, my body is recuperating and my opinion of myself is shot to hell. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

  “You have nothing to be ashamed of,” his voice was hoarse.

  “I caused a car accident.”

  “I did.”

  “Stop. I can’t do this again and don’t call me, it’s distracting.”

  “I can’t not call you,” he breathed down the phone.

  “Why not?”

  There was a pause. “I don’t know.”

  Eve groaned and put her hand to her temple.

  “You sound stressed,” he said.

  “Let me see. I have a billionaire sex god who I can’t touch and a job starting next week. I need to unwind bad,” Eve said.

  “Have we gone beyond complex sentences?” there was a chuckle hidden in his voice.

  Eve could imagine Roman trailing a finger down her neck, touching the top of her breast.

  “Rome.”

  “Eve.”

  “Stop doing that.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Stop frustrating me and leave me alone.”

  There was another pause on the other side.

  “There is a way you could unwind.”

  Please say sex. Please say sex. Please say sex. Eve pushed away the voices in her head. “We’re not healthy for each other.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” her shoulders slumped. “I was suggesting you go to one of my spa resorts. It would be complimentary for you and a girlfriend.”

  “Rome, I don’t need you to pay”-

  “I figure I owe you, after all aren’t I am the reason you need to unwind bad?”

  Eve hung up without another word.

  The brochure arrived the next day.

  47

  “Boss?” Beareman placed the paper on the desk.

  The man sitting before him was primed in a dark navy suit and pocket handkerchief and striped shirt. It was an old fashioned style with a modern twist. The boss was big on the marriage of old and new. He sat before a large mahogany desk, the curtains were drawn letting in little light. An ash tray sat with a cigar waiting, its smoke trailing lazy curls in the air.

  “What is it?”

  “This credit card was flagged the other day.” Beareman handed him the paper with the cards’ details on it.

  “The date says last week. Why am I only hearing about it now?” the boss grunted.

  “It had to be verified. It was in one of your fake names. Boss, it’s the card you gave to your”-

  “Daughter,” he grunted. He picked up the cigar, rolling it between his finger and thumb. “Evee, child, it’s been too long.”

  “What do you want us to do?” there was a heated pause, the cigar puffed from the boss’s lips eliciting burning clouds.

  “Nothing. Observe first, see if it’s really her. We’ll make our move once we know.”

  Beareman moved closer to the door. “Wait.” He stopped. “Send the new kid. Can’t have you risking ye face.”

  “You think she remembers me?”

  “Everyone remembers you.”

  48

  “What’s this?”

  “Nothing, you can throw it out,” Eve said as Trisha walked through the door.

  Trisha picked up the brochure off the floor and started reading. “Is this legit?”

  “What?” Eve brought down two cups from the kitchen cupboard.

  “It’s a thousand dollar voucher to a spa resort.”

  Eve bit her lip. “Oh yeah. That. Throw it out.”

  “What are you kidding me? No way. Where did it come from?”

  “It was a gift,” Eve shrugged and turned back to the kettle filling it with water.

  “Eve, sweetie we need to talk,” talking. Great. Nothing good ever came out of talking especially when Trisha had that tone of voice coupled with her hands on her hips. Trisha sat down on a stool facing the counter. Her hair was mused up and she wore her black waitressing uniform. She’d recently come off a shift. “You’ve been acting different lately. Is there anything you’d like to tell me?” her inquisitive brow shifted, her clear gaze settling on Eve. “Anything?”

  “Coming from you,” Eve retorted. “I’m still waiting on the story about your ex. You haven’t filled in any blanks.” Trisha pulled back hurt lining her face. “Sorry,” Eve reached across. “I have a lot on my plate.” Trisha’s expression didn’t change meaning she wasn’t buying Eve’s excuse. She squeezed Eve’s hand.

  “There’s a guy isn’t there?” Eve retrieved her hand from under hers, her silence confirming as much. “What’s the problem? You don’t like him?”

  Eve considered how dangerous it would be to tell Trisha about Roman, not so much, as long as she didn’t know about the blackmailers or Trigger or…everything else.

  “Is it Roman Pierce?”

  “I li
ke him,” she turned away focusing on un-wrapping a packet of biscuits.

  “So, what’s the problem?” Eve’s fingers stilled on the wrapping.

  “I think I like him more than he likes me.” What were they in high school again? She’d never acted more childish in her life, next they’d have a sleepover and play truth or dare.

  “Would he be the same guy who gave you all those flowers? The same guy who was in your apartment not too long ago.”

  “Yeah, how did you?”-

  “I saw two shadows in your window.”

  “Why were you looking at my window?”

  “I’m your personal stalker plus I was taking out the trash.

  “And the flowers?”

  “Honey not only did you show up at my door with tulips but I’ve seen them in Mrs Partridge’s place and in the window of Tomas’s.” Tomas was there other neighbour they saw from time to time.

  “I had a lot left over, I guess,” Eve shrugged dissecting a custard cream.

  “Sweetie. It seems like he likes you a lot. Nobody had ever sent me flowers quite like that, or ever.” There was a hint of something else in her voice.

  “You don’t get it, he’s rich. He can afford to send anything he wants.”

  “So perhaps we can afford to go to that spa,” Trisha waved the voucher in the air like a white flag. “Come on.”

  “No.”

  “Do it for me. I’m a single mother who works six days a week.”

  *

  “Welcome Miss Allure,” said the woman at the desk, beaming at Eve. The spa lay on the outskirts in the heart of the city and yet walking through the doors was like they were thousands of miles away in a rainforest. Waterfalls splashed in one corner and there was a coy pond with stepping stones and a bamboo garden.

  The reception was a white lacquered desk, the only thing reminding them this wasn’t a fantasy. The woman behind the desk wore a loose fitted cream tunic with a calm face. “Welcome to Eden spa resort.”

  “This looks promising,” Eve said.

  “Promising? Sweetie, have you been desensitised? It’s absolutely breathtaking,” Trisha stood next to her, out of her uniform in a flowery dress ready for her holiday experience. Their bags were taken immediately and the staff led them through to a spa bath with a waterfall falling overhead.

  “I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore,” Eve awed.

  This could do. It should. She could feel her muscles easing just being here. This had to be payment enough for putting her through hell. It might not heal her heart; at least her body would eventually wind down after everything it had been put through.

  Or at least that was the idea, until he walked through the door.

  49

  Eve’s breath caught. It couldn’t be. How was it possible? Before her in a fine white tunic stood Roman, the very man she was trying to get away from. Eve looked to Trisha hoping for her support, as if she woman could help her. She’d already disappeared passed the waterfall and into the steam room. Eve was alone with Roman Pierce. She swallowed. “What are you doing here?”

  “Relaxing, aren’t you?”

  “No.”

  “How did you know I was here?” she hissed.

  “Eve, I’m as surprised to see you as you are.”

  “Yeah, right.” Eve was this close to slapping that grin off his face.

  “Miss Allure, this way please, your massage will begin shortly,” said the receptionist. Eve gaped, how could she think of relaxing now, knowing he’d be so close? She wanted a comeback, a slap, a verbal assault. Nothing.

  “Thank you,” her shoulders slumped marginally as she turned her back on him. Oh my god. She was led through to another door all the while her insides screamed. How the hell did Roman know she was here? Stupid question, he owned the place. Eve was led to a desolate room filled with the sound of waves and a delicate chiming. The scent of lemongrass wafted through the air and for a moment she could forget who she’d bumped into. She ground her teeth. The nerve of him. She was never going to forget him.

  “Miss Allure, please let us know what you would prefer, a gentle touch or a deeper tissue massage?” said the woman. How could Eve think about this right now?

  “Whatever releases the most pressure,” she nodded.

  “Male or female?”

  “I don’t mind.” Eve was led onto a bed where she disrobed and waited for her masseuse to arrive. Her mind wondered as she lay there and let the tranquil ocean take her in a sea of lemons. Gentle hands worked on her body. It took a while for her to close her eyes, to succumb, to stop seething; eventually her back muscles unlocked themselves. Hands worked away at her back, her shoulders pulling out muscles she didn’t even know she had. There was slight pressure on her middle back followed by several cracks of her vertebra. She released all that pent up tension in minutes as the motions carried on. She sighed; she hadn’t felt this good in years. “Ahh,” she released further into a relaxed position. The hands worked away at her hips, rubbing down to her bottom. Her breath caught as muscles closer to her tailbone released. The fingers were deft and so much closer to her Sex, her cheeks heated beneath the touch. This should be alright. He was a professional. Well it felt like a he. His hands were strong and hard as they rubbed into the base of her spine. Both hands gripped beneath her waist and worked away. Eve’s pulse accelerated. She was relaxed, should be. So why was she enjoying this like it was something else? Her breath released and her back slackened onto the bed once more. If only this were sex. If only. She could lay here and be…

  “Are you enjoying yourself?” his voice was close to her ear.

  Eve shot up off the bed. “What the hell are you doing?” She yanked the towel over her bare breasts and hips. What the hell? “Oh my god, you pervert. Who said you could do that?”

  “I studied to be a massage therapist a few years ago.”

  “Of course you did,” she bit at him. “What gives you the right to touch me like that?” her pulse thrummed high below the surface. Her chest rose and fell. She had enjoyed it for those fleeting moments. Betrayed by those hands.

  But it was Roman Pierce, how in the hell could she relax?

  “Eve, I owe it to you to relax.” His eyes implored, his hands touched her shoulders rubbing them back into submission. Her neck craned, her shoulders slumped.

  “No,” she said though her heart wasn’t in it.

  “Just this once. Say yes. I promise you’ll feel better for it,” his voice was liquid gold soothing all those aches and pains. Eve didn’t respond as she sunk back into position.

  “There’s a good girl,” his voice caressed her spine, no matter how warm the room was, shivers tingled down her vertebrae.

  “Why are you really here Roman?” Eve said as his hands worked on the base of her spine.

  “This is my place.”

  “You know what I mean. Last time you told me we couldn’t be together.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you.” His hands pushed and worked along her hips. “I can’t stay away from you.”

  “You couldn’t at least try?”

  *

  “Don’t you feel a thousand times better?” Trisha said as they walked through the building doors. They took to the stairs since the elevator was always stuck on the third floor. Eve gave her two upturned eyebrows. “Sorry, forgot. Well who could have assumed he would be there?” they bustled up the stairs. “Seems kind of hot.”

  “No, for the hundredth time, we did not have sex.”

  “Alright, alright,” Trisha winked back at Eve.

  “He owns the place,” Eve was beyond grumpy. She didn’t know how to feel amidst her conscience telling her everything she did was wrong and Roman spurring her on like the devil on her shoulder. She was more confused than ever.

  “And to think if I hadn’t gone to my treatment when I did I could’ve met Roman Pierce and given him a piece of my mind.”

  Eve’s face split a second later. “I would pay to see a Trisha show down.”
>
  50

  Tonight was Jensen’s lucky night.

  He’d sat in a grey sedan outside the marked building for god knows how long. Two women had walked in, one of them fitting the description of the one he’d been told to find. He’d snapped the photos of her on his phone and sent them to the boss.

  The message came minutes later.

  Keep watching, no sudden moves.

  The last bit was like a punch to the gut. As if he was unable to follow simple orders. No sudden moves, fine, he could follow those orders.

  At least the address had been right. He, the company even, hadn’t known for sure. A lot of favours had to have been called upon to get an address. As an Associate, that’s all Jenson knew. Associate was just code for bottom of the ladder.

  He’d watched a little more closely after he was sure she was there, he’d kept an eye out for the lights in the building. So when the girl stepped out, he was sure she lived in one of the side apartments.

  The lights there had been turned off seconds ago, only a small window gave a clue to the location around the side.

  If he stepped out into the side alley, he might see her, given the angle, she might be able to see him too, which is why he didn’t.

  She couldn’t know she was being watched, or that he was waiting. Waiting wasn’t his strong suit. Hours later, he finally got lucky when she stepped out of the building. Maybe she was out for a stroll. Good. Let’s take a stroll together, shall we? At the time she’d stepped out he’d been smoking a cigarette on the side of the street. He snubbed out his cigarette as the girl came out under the streetlight.

  Jeez, she was a stunner; even from here he could tell. She wore one of those short black jackets opening up at the top in a wide arch revealing her fair skin. Her hair was clipped up and trailing in escaped tendrils, oh how he loved those escaped tendrils, like some wild she-demon. She was anything but wild; she kept her head down and her hands in her pockets. She was smart, not flaunting it, keeping to herself.