by Amy Brent
She smiles and stares at me.
“Is that all?” I ask.
“No,” she says softly sitting across from me.
“What else?” I can’t remember anything being planned. Her eyes glance down at the ground and then to the wall behind me, as if she is holding some terrible secret.
“I -uh. I’m quitting.”
“Really?!” I lean back in my chair and let the words settle in my ears. She is such a great secretary. “Why? Did something happen? Are you not happy here?”
She shakes her head with a bashful smile.
“No, no that’s not it at all,” she pauses for a moment. “I have been offered a job as an assistant to another law firm out of the city.”
“You study law?” I ask. I can’t help but feel proud for her. She shakes her head.
“Yes. I had a degree in English but then went to grad school for law. I want to work somewhere I can start practicing more, versus filing papers. No offense.”
“None taken. I’m happy for you.”
“I really have enjoyed working here. Don’t get me wrong; I have learned a lot working under you.” She smiles then.
“Well, good for you Beatrice.”
“I’m sorry this is such short notice.”
“No apologizes. We can’t control life all the time,” I say with a wink.
She stands up and starts to head to the door.
“Beatrice-”
“Yes, Mr. Vallor?”
“Once, you have a bit more experience, please apply here. I would love to work with you again.”
“Thank you.”
“When will you be leaving?”
“This will be my last week.”
“Well, then we will have to make it a good one,” I say.
“Yes, sir.” She walks out of the room and returns to her desk. I take a deep breath. This was going to be a huge stressor for me. Beatrice was a hard worker and someone I could count on to help keep my life in order. It will be some time before I can find someone who will be just as good.
“This will be fun,” I mutter to myself.
My office door flies open. I jerk upright. Kevin, one of my paralegals stands in the doorway.
“Kevin, you can’t just barge in like that!”
“I’m sorry,” The late twenty year old stammers. His brown eyes glance around the room. “Did you hear that Beatrice is leaving?”
“Yeah, she just told me,” I sigh.
“I have the report for Mr. Derive’s case all finished.”
He plops it down on the desk with a thud.
“That was supposed to be in yesterday. I reschedule my meeting already.”
“I know...but I was on the phone all day yesterday with the court.”
“It's okay, just come talk to me if you get overwhelmed next time.”
Kevin nods quickly and scampers out of the room. I stare at the tall stack of papers and sigh. At least, Kevin is thorough I tell myself, lifting it open and reading the first page. The rest of the day, my head is a million places. My eyes constantly look up at Beatrice just to remind myself this next week is going to be a shit storm. Our firm was one of the largest in the northern New York State. I lean my head against my hand and sigh.
It feels like hundred hours until it finally becomes five, but most of the office has already cleared out at four thirty. If they finished their assignments for the day, I wasn’t one to make them stay. Beatrice was the first to disappear from the office. No point in her staying late to work hard now that she has a brand new job. I turn off the lights of the office and lock the door. It feels so empty and quiet. The evening golden sun shines through and warms the place.
I make my way to the parking garage in the basement of the building. My black BMW sits waiting for me. I climb in and make my way to the Bistro. I really could have just walked, but my legs hurt from the gym early that morning.
I pull into the public parking lot and pay the fee.
“Ryan!” a voice calls out. Viviane arms wrap around my waist and hold tight.
“Hey,” I say wearily, gently spinning around to face her. She gives me a quick kiss.
“Your lips are cold,” I say surprised.
“I just had some ice water, if that’s what it is.” She pulls down her long hair, so it falls in waves around her shoulders. “Jesus, I’m starving. Haven’t eaten all day.”
“Same.”
We walk across the busy streets and up the steps of the bistro. I come here often. It's a small place with good Italian food and it’s not overpriced. I hate stuffy rich restaurants. I find the higher the quality the worst the wait staff becomes.
The hostess leads us to our table in the corner by the kitchen doors.
“Oh, we cannot sit here,” Viviane says, turning her nose up at the spot.
“Why not? This is fine?” I look over the table. “It looks like every other spot here.”
“But it’s by the kitchen, that is too much traffic,” she groans, staring at the hostess, a young, thin thing of a girl.
“That’s no problem,” she says, “how about a window seat?”
“I don’t want to sit in the sun,” Viviane rolls her eyes. She flashes me a smile, but I am not amused.
“Does it really matter, Viv?” I plead with her. The smell of fresh baking bread and meat wakes my stomach up violently.
“Yeah, of course it does,” she quickly snaps back.
The hostess, obviously uncomfortable with our little fight, looks around the restaurant.
“Where would you like to sit?” she asks politely. I applaud her patience. A skill people in the food industry practice too many times. Viviane crinkles her nose and scans the restaurant. There aren’t too many available spots. Dinner time was starting. Her eyes fall on a large booth in the middle of the restaurant.
“What about there?”
The hostess looks at us.
“Sure,” she says, and walks us over to the table, handing us our menus and then walking away.
“Isn’t this so much better?” Viviane asks me.
“If you are a party of six then yes, I think so.”
She frowns.
“What’s with your attitude tonight?”
The question comes completely out of nowhere. Viviane and I hadn’t been seeing each other very long. I helped her sue a tenant who rented one of her high end condos and completely trashed the place. We started fooling around in the office and things started to escalate. She is a wealthy woman in her early thirties. She had some work done, so she looks younger.
“What?” I asked shocked, taking a sip from the water, a waiter who was passing by poured.
“You just seem different,” she says rolling her neck.
“Oh, sorry,” I mutter.
She frowns and is clearly unhappy. But I don’t care too much. This was never supposed to be anything serious and she isn’t about to make it that.
“Don’t you want to make your little kitty happy?” she purrs, reaching a slender hand onto my thigh.
“I do,” I say half-heartedly, touching her hand gently. She pulls it back and frown.
“What?!” I ask.
“Something happen at work?”
The waiter appears then, holding a note pad and pen.
“Are we ready to order?” he asks. I nod.
“I’ll have the Filet, cooked medium and -” I motion to Viviane, her eyes scan the menu.
“Can I have the Rosemary Chicken Salad with no cheese and the dressing on the side?”
He nods, writing the orders down, and then quickly disappearing behind the kitchen doors.
“My secretary quit,” I pick the conversation back up.
“Oh...what was her name?”
“Beatrice.”
“What a stupid name,” she jokes, flicking the dirt out from under her fingernails. “Why’d she leave?”
“Got a new job.”
“Good for her.”
; “Yeah...it is good. Just adds a lot of stress, since now we have a lot of new clients this month.”
Vivian takes a sip from her water.
“That’s exciting. So what will your schedule be looking like for the rest of summer?” She asks.
“Um - I’m not sure-”
“Because I thought a trip to the Maldives would be fun. Or maybe Greece?”
“I don’t have time for a trip?”
Her eyes darken and her eyebrows furrow.
“You said we could go somewhere special.”
“Okay, but I also said that when I had some more time.”
“Well, when will that be? All of my friends are going on vacation right now.”
Jesus, what is this high school?!
“I don’t know, Viv. It’s hard to say at the moment.”
“Whatever, I should have known you would be full of shit.”
“Excuse me!” I almost cough on my water.
“Nothing, never mind.”
I shake my head and set the water down. What was with women these days? I am suddenly reminded why I have never been married. I wish I would have canceled dinner and just gotten take out. Maybe, I should have gone and checked on Jasmina.
The waiter brings the food out and after that, a bottle of wine. But I don’t drink any. Viviane picks at her salad and complains several times about how the chicken is undercooked. We don’t talk much the rest of the evening, mainly because I don’t want too. I can tell this relationship will be leading to nowhere.
I fear I have reached a point where I will continue the rest of my life completely alone.
“What are your plans for after dinner?” Vivian asks as the waiter sets the check onto the table. I reach over and grab it.
“Sleep,” I say quickly. “In my own bed, alone.”
“Wait, seriously?”
“Yeah,” I respond. I am not about to lead her on.
“You don’t want to come back to my place and make me a happy kitty?”
I rub my face with my hand.
“No...you’re not being cute, Viv. This whole dinner was not good.”
“What do you mean?”
I place the cash onto the table and get up from the table. Viviane wears a look of disgust as she stands up behind me, following me out of the restaurant. I am already on the side of the street hailing a bright yellow cab.
“Are you serious right now?” she snaps, standing next to me in a flurry. The cab pulls up next to us.
“Uh, yes. I am. We’re done talking.”
She frowns.
“Are you dumping me?”
“What are you talking about? We were never together.”
“You’re a fucking egotistical dick.” The words are meant to hurt, but they don’t. I never felt anything more than physical attraction for her, and it was turning out to be too much an expensive and annoying habit.
I open the door.
“Thanks.”
She glares at me as she slides in, slamming the door. I take a deep breath watching the cab drive away. Perhaps I was too mean, but I don't think so. I return to my car and drive to my penthouse.
I find my way to the couch and reach for my phone. A text from Jasmina lights up the screen.
Hope you had a good day today -Jaz.
I smile and feel a little better.
I ended things with Viviane, I type back. The phone vibrates seconds later.
Good, she was just some gold digger.
The smile on my face widens. Jasmina always said what was on her mind.
Why didn’t you tell me that’s how you felt?
I didn’t know if you really liked her.
Nah, she sucks.
Lol. Nighty night.
Night, Jaz.
I walk out of the living room and into my bedroom. I stare at the king size bed. Vivian was good in bed. I will give her that, but there are others. I turn the shower and let the hot water wash away the stress from the day. I wish someone was in there with me. I close my eyes and let the water drip down, thinking about a woman standing under the water with me. I start by seeing her long legs and move up to her perfect round tits. My eyes continue and then I see her face. Jasmina!? I open my eyes and touch my face. What the fuck? Why would I want her? That’s not right...but my hard cock begs to differ.
I reach for the soap and wash my body. Since when did I want to fuck Jasmina? I almost start laughing the idea is so ridiculous. I force my mind to switch to Mark, instead of the idea of his naked daughter bending over in front of me. He would kill me. I would kill myself. I turn the water off, dry myself off, and lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling fan.
It has to be the stress from the day, giving me these crazy ideas. But no matter how much I try to focus, my dick seems to redirect my mind to being with her. I bet she’s so tight. Stop! I roll over and turn the television on. The throbbing between my legs grows the more I ignore it. But I know this would be wrong. It would ruin my relationship with my best friends. I start to laugh at myself then. Today has been a really weird day, and this is just the cherry on top. These are not my normal feelings, just the result of a sleep deprived and stressful day.
Chapter 4
My car turns down the road, as I glance up at the GPS mounted on the dashboard. It is in the afternoon, and I am running a little late, hopefully this isn’t going to get in the way of Jasmina’s appointment. I am taking her to look at apartments today. She didn’t want to go alone and I guess her friend is busy, and forget Mark.
I pull up to the condo building on the corner of the street and put my blinkers on. I am about to text Jasmina when the car door opens.
“Hey, Christian!” her voice bubbles as she sits in the passenger seat.
“Hey, Jaz.” I look over. My breath is almost taken away by her beauty. She has grown up so much. She looks striking in a small tight, black dress; her breasts peek out from the top. I glance away. “I hope I am not too late, I got held up at work.”
“Nope, we’re good,” she flashes a bright smile and flips her blonde hair. The smell of strawberries enter my nose.
“You have the address?” I ask, as I drive the car back into the road.
“Yup, I have it right here.” She starts to put the address into the address. “I like your car. When did you get?”
“Last year.”
“It’s nice.” She leans back into the leather seat, after putting the address in and rolls down the window. The warm breeze whips her hair around her face, sticking pieces onto her lips. She gently brushes them away. “Thanks for doing this. I really appreciate it. I didn’t know what I was going to do.”
“It’s no problem,” I reassure her. “I had an early day off anyway.” Being an orthodontist was way easier than being a heart surgeon. I always try to tell Mark that. We continue down the street. The GPS says this place isn’t too far away.
“How many places are we looking at today?” I ask.
“Just this one,” she sighs, turning her head to face me.
“Why just one?”
“Because I like it, and it has these big windows with all this sunlight. Well, at least the photos show that it does.”
“Sounds good to me,” I pause. “Have you talked to your dad recently?”
I am not sure if bringing her dad up is a bad idea, but I did kind of lead her into this tough situation.
“Nope…”
“I guess I didn’t give you the best advice the other morning then.”
She rests a hand on my arm.
“You were right. We should have talked, but Mark doesn’t want to listen to anyone but himself.”
“He is pretty stubborn. I guess I was just thinking about how i would have handled the whole situation if I were Mark. Still, I’m sorry this all happened.”
“It is what it is.” She rolls the window back up. “Can I turn the music on?”
“Yeah, whatever you want.”
“Yes,” I say glancing over at her. She keeps her gaze locked on mine.
“You couldn’t handle what I want.”
“What?” I chuckle.
“Nothing,” she sighs, flipping through the stations on the radio.
The pop music fills the car stereos, and Jasmina begins singing. Her light, airy voice fills the car. She bounces back and forth. It seems like she knows every single song that comes on.
“You don’t know any of these do you?” she laughs, over the music.
“Nope, not really.”
“You should!”
“I’m sorry, I only listen to good music.”
“This is good music!”
“Okay, you teach me on the way home, because we’re here,” I say, turning the radio down. Jasmina’s large sparkling eyes widen.
“Oh, I’m so excited. This will be my first own place,” she squeals, unbuckling the seat.
“What about in college?”
“I always had like three or four roommates. It was fun, but I’m ready to be on my own.”