Karma

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Karma Page 4

by Charity Ferrell


  She set the brush back in the bottle and blew on her nails. "Follow me," she ordered, getting up from the chair, careful not to mess up her freshly painted pink nails. I followed her a few steps until she stopped in front of a set of double doors and knocked. The same voice from the phone call yelled for us to come in. I clutched my hands together as she allowed me entry into the pet cemetery. The room of doom was packed with dead, stuffed animals everywhere: on the walls, bookshelves, in the corner. I was certain they were looking down at me, warning me I was next.

  "Thank you, Summer," he said, choosing not to acknowledge me while studying her ass as she left the room. I shuffled my feet back and forth on the carpet. The guy was married but ogling his secretary right in front of me.

  "Hello, Gabrielle," he finally greeted once his ass distraction disappeared. His aqua eyes bored into me like a lion does its prey before ripping them to shreds and having them for dinner.

  I forced my lips to create a small smile. “It’s Gabby,” I corrected. He always called me by my full name, and every time he did it, I’d correct him. I knew he continued to do it just to annoy me. It did.

  He shot me a smug smile and pointed to an empty chair in front of his desk. “Have a seat.” I crossed the room slowly, my legs feeling like Jell-O, and I wrapped my arms around my torso before sitting down.

  He folded his hands in front of him on his desk. “I’m glad you’re here with us.” I covered my mouth and held back the eye roll at his obvious lie; the man despised me. “How are you liking it so far?”

  The next lie belonged to me. “It’s great,” I answered, crossing my legs and straightening my posture.

  "Terrific." I was amazed at how much sarcasm dripped from one small word. "I understand Kenneth said you wanted more responsibility around here?"

  A tingling swept from the back of my neck to my face. I was going to kill my mom. I'd casually mentioned I was going insane from boredom, and she must've mentioned it to my step-dad. Then he went to Wilson. Great, I definitely wouldn’t have said anything if I knew it resulted in me having to have chats with this jackass.

  I opened my mouth, taking a moment to figure out whether I wanted to deny his accusation or go along with it. The door swung open, breaking away my chain of thought of how stapling papers was enough responsibility for this girl to handle. Summer reappeared with Dalton trailing behind her, his hands in the pockets of his black pants, and he looked at his dad.

  I'd been able to avoid any other awkward run-ins with him since that first day. It took some work, but it was worth it. I made Asher drive us to work twenty minutes early and took the stairs instead of the elevator. I’d pulled off the leaving early by telling him I needed to get my daily cardio in and was surprised when he fell for it. If anyone ever saw me running, it would be me running for my life and they needed to call the police.

  I studied the black heels on my feet while he maneuvered around Summer’s body and came my way. “You wanted to see me?” he asked, and I noticed the exact moment he realized I was in the room. His muscles went rigid, and he halted in his step. I was certain I wasn’t the only one working to avoid another awkward run-in.

  Wilson settled back into his chair. "I did, now have a seat," he demanded, and Summer sauntered out of the room again. Dalton’s feet moved slowly as he walked around my chair and settled into the only other one available--directly beside me. Yeah, things were about to get unpleasant.

  My pulse raced as my mind ran through the million different reason he’d have both of us in there at the same time. Did he know about what we’d done? Was he firing me because of it? “Dalton, this is Gabrielle. She’s your Uncle Kenneth’s stepdaughter,” he said, introducing us. There was nothing more awkward than getting re-introduced to the guy who’d popped your cherry.

  A giant ‘fuck you’ was riding the end of my tongue and begging to be released. My mom and his brother had been married for four years, and we’d had the displeasure of spending almost every holiday with his dreadful family because my mom’s was practically non-existent.

  Dalton's eyes cut his dad's way. "I know who Gabby is," he fired back, his voice tight while he avoided looking my way.

  Wilson gave him a smug smile and clapped his hands together. "Great! I'm glad we got that out of the way. I'm going to have you two partnering up for a new client I have coming in tomorrow. A very important client, I might add. Everything must be kept completely confidential."

  My eyes bulged out and darted Dalton’s way to see his reaction but got nothing; his face was completely blank. “Partners?” I asked, indicating between the two of us with a single finger. “As in, us working together?” I knew the answer to my question was obvious and I probably looked like a complete idiot, but I needed some clarification. Maybe he’d think I was too incompetent to work with Dalton and stick me back in my Dalton-free cubicle I immediately decided I was a fan of.

  Wilson sneered at me. "Yes, Gabrielle, I do believe that's what partnering up means." Yeah, he totally thought I was a complete airhead. "Unless you don't feel you are qualified enough for the job?"

  Not to toot my own horn and all, but I was smart. I'd graduated with a three-point-eight GPA, but I didn't feel the need to waste my breath trying to defend myself to him. I couldn’t care less what any of them thought about me. "I'm just the file girl; I know nothing about PR."

  His face turned hard but amused at the same time. He enjoyed my pathetic excuse at trying to get out of the job. "You're an intern. Interns do whatever the hell I tell them to do. Whether that be filing my folders, getting my dry cleaning or cleaning my goddamn toilet. You're an intern, and interns have no damn say in what they do or do not do around here!" He slammed his hand down, and the glass on his desk began to rattle with liquid splattering on some documents. I gulped, fighting with myself to look at him in the eyes. I couldn’t let him know he’d affected me.

  "Dad," Dalton warned, his jaw working in circles. I wasn't sure if he was pissed because he had to work with me or if he was sticking up for me.

  "It's fine," I said, smiling weakly and cutting him off. "I understand," I said, nodding my head and giving them both a weak smile. "Is there anything you'd like me to do to prepare for tomorrow?" Other than learn to suck it up and deal with his verbal abuse.

  Wilson grunted. "Wear something more professional," he snapped, his eyes scanning my body.

  My eyes flicked down to my outfit of choice for the day and frowned. I'd worn a maroon, collared dress that I'd paired with black panty hose and my favorite Mary Jane peep-toed pumps. There was no way he could've been serious. Not only was my dress ten times more professional than what his secretary wore on a daily basis but also designer. Just because I wasn't a bloodline Douglas spawn didn't mean my wardrobe didn't come from Douglas money. My mom had given me her credit card to go out and buy new clothes for the job.

  "Dalton will meet you in the morning and take you into the boardroom with him at eight sharp. Don't be late." His arm shot up, and he waved me out of the room dismissively like I was getting kicked out of the principal's office. I hopped out of my chair, careful not to trip on my heels, and scurried out of the room without taking a glance back.

  Things were about to get really interesting.

  I waited until Gabby left before I ripped into my dad. "What the hell?" I yelled out in frustration. I hadn’t seen Gabby since our first confrontation, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t looking for her. I knew for sure she was avoiding me when I caught her walking out of the staircase entrance, her head looking both ways before dashing down the hallway.

  "What?" he questioned, dragging both hands down his face and letting out a disgruntled growl. "That girl's whore of a mother complained to my goddamn brother about giving her more responsibility because she was bored. Of course, my brother takes that slut's side and calls me. We both know that brat is useless, so I figured I could stick her with you. You do all the work, and give the twit something miniscule to appease him until we can find a way to
get rid of her."

  Tension flared up into my neck. He had no right to bash Gabby; he didn't even know her. The only reason he didn't like her was because my uncle had been married to some wealthy heiress before he left her to be with Shelia, Gabby's mom. From what I'd heard, she was far from being an heiress. She worked a nine-to-five, lived paycheck to paycheck and grew up in a trailer park before marrying Kenneth.

  "Don't take you not liking her mom out on her. She actually seems like a decent girl." I averted my eyes to the wall behind him in attempt to appear as casual as possible. I couldn't let him catch on to the fact I was taking his insults about her personally. The man could read people like a damn book; that's why he was so good at his job. I'd looked up to that trait when I was growing up but changed my mind when I saw him using it only for his vindictive advantages.

  He worked his jaw from side to side. "I'm not taking anything out on her. I'm allowing her to work here, aren't I?" A single eyebrow rose up. "I would say that's rather generous of me considering she has no experience, and my idiotic brother ran off to some other country to play house with the mistress he was stupid enough to marry." He leaned back into his chair and threaded his fingers behind his head.

  "You just called her useless," I pointed out.

  He flashed me a cold smile. "So I did, but you can't argue that. The girl isn't even going to school this year for God’s sake! According to my dip-shit brother, she wants to take a year off. I can't believe he'd even allow something like that to happen in his household. I would've kicked that damn girl out on the streets if she tried pulling something like that in my house." His voice got louder at the end of his sentence, like he had something to prove. He wasn't lying, though. If any of us kids decided not to go to the school they'd chosen for us, they would've cut us off. Plain and simple, no exceptions. Our parents expected us to excel in academics and everything else in life. The Douglases always had to be the best.

  "Mom didn't go to college," I fired back, treading into dangerous territory.

  "Your mother and that girl are on two different scales of the society spectrum," he snarled, his eyes beginning to blaze fury. "Your mother comes from a well-bred family. That girl comes from nothing. She comes from filth. She's the daughter of a whore. No respectable guy is going to marry the daughter of a whore. She needs to get herself the education my brother is offering to pay for and find a respectable career so she can support herself. She doesn't need to be mooching off my brother like a leech for the rest of her life. I won't allow him to support a free-loader."

  "So is that what Summer is?" I asked, blurting out the words before I chickened out and changed my mind. I noticed the instant the true meaning of my question dawned on him. His glare focused on me, vicious and hard like he was daring me to keep talking. Pot was about to meet fucking kettle.

  "What the hell are you talking about?" he asked, attempting to look confused and going directly into his power pose.

  I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. "Does that make Summer a whore?" I relayed slowly. Fuck it. I was going for it. Someone needed to set his ass straight for once. He was constantly belittling my uncle and his wife because she was his mistress, but he was doing the same damn thing. The only difference was that my uncle had enough balls to own up to his mistakes; my dad would never do that.

  "Be careful throwing out false accusations," he warned, spit flying out of his mouth.

  I snorted. "False accusations? You're married to mom but banging Summer on the side. Summer is your damn mistress. She's the same thing that Gabby's mom was to Uncle Kenneth." I'd be damned if I was going to allow him to treat Gabby like shit the entire time she worked here. He opened his mouth, ready to voice his argument, but I continued talking. "Don't waste our time trying to deny it, either. Everyone knows, including Mom. So, since Summer is your mistress, does that make her a whore as well? Because that's exactly what Gabby's mom was doing, and you were so quick to label her."

  "You leave Summer out of this, you hear me? Whatever ridiculous notion you have brewing in that head of yours is wrong. Tomorrow, be ready for the meeting. Don't be late." He picked up the clear glass sitting at the front of his desk and walked to the bar positioned in the corner of the room. Grabbing a bottle of bourbon, he filled the glass to the rim with dark liquid and took a large swig while I dragged myself up from the chair. “And one more thing,” he shouted to my back. “If you ever refer to Summer as a whore again, your employment here will be terminated. I don’t give a shit if you’re my kid or not, you will not disrespect my employees like that. Do I make myself clear?”

  He was such a fucking hypocrite. "Shouldn't that go both ways?" I asked, my back still facing him. "I'd consider calling your brother's wife a whore is not only disrespectful toward your brother but also to Gabby. Both of whom are not only employees here but your family, as well."

  He cleared his throat. "I'll take that into careful consideration.” I rolled my eyes and pulled open the door, fully aware he was lying; my dad would never change.

  Loud music played in the background as I walked into the loud, dimly-lit room and strolled past the rows of occupied tables filled with people laughing and drinking. I’d tried to get my older brother, Leo, to meet me at the strip club, but he wouldn’t budge. If his wife caught him there, she’d most likely go into one of her crazy rampages, which sucked because I figured some eye candy might take my mine off Gabby. The more I saw her, the more I wanted her, and that was a huge fucking problem. I headed straight toward the bar and pulled out a stool before slumping down on top of it.

  “Rough day?” Leo asked, sitting in the stool next to me. He had a beer in his hand and an entertained smile on his face. He looked like shit. His brown hair had grown out, and he looked like he hadn’t shaved in days, which was unusual for him. He was always so put together. My brother was the typical businessman who always had to be clean-cut and professional.

  "You have no idea,” I answered, signaling toward the bartender and he came our way. “Jack and coke, please,” I ordered and he nodded. “And keep ‘em coming.” He grabbed a glass and began making my concoction.

  "Going for the hard shit tonight, huh? I see working for Dad is still a wonderful pleasure," he joked, bringing a beer to his mouth and taking a long swig. “Sure don’t miss that shit.” Leo had worked for my dad until he married his wife and became the VP of her dad's oil company. He happily left Douglas PR, practically skipping out the front doors while doing it.

  The bartender set my drink down, and I immediately grabbed it, chugging the potent liquid down and allowing it to burn its way down my throat. The bartender nodded as I held up my empty glass his way. “Uncle Kenneth’s stepdaughter, Gabby, is working there, too,” I announced, wiping my wet mouth with the back of my arm.

  Leo choked on his drink. “I bet Dad is fucking loving that.”

  “Even better, he decided to partner us up for my first client.” I was fucked; I already knew it. How was I supposed to focus on fixing our client’s dilemma when I couldn’t quit thinking about how badly I wanted to sink myself into my partner?

  His face turned serious. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

  The bartender sat drink number two in front of me, and I immediately grabbed it. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I asked, taking a drink and feeling the small buzz begin to slowly creep inside of me.

  “She’s an attractive girl, and everyone knows how much you love attractive females.”

  I tilted my head to the side, a slow smile building across my lips. “You think she’s hot?” I figured everyone in my family disliked her because my dad did, but the more I thought about it, it didn’t surprise me he didn’t hate her. My brother was like me; he didn’t care about labels or reputations as much as my parents did.

  His fingers splayed out across his beer glass. “For a younger girl, yes, she’s attractive.”

  I brought my glass back up to my mouth. “Huh.”

  He let out a sharp breath. "F
uck, Dalton, tell me you didn't?"

  "Didn't what?" I asked into my glass. I already knew my ass was busted.

  "You had sex with her, didn't you? You know Dad is going to kick your ass."

  I held my free hand up to my heart, feigning innocence at his accusation. “What? No! Of course I didn’t have sex with her.”

  He gave me a glassy stare. “You do realize I know when you’re lying, right? You squint your right eye every single time. You’ve done it since we were kids.”

  "Really?" I squinted my right eye. Why was this the first time I was hearing about my little lie detector? "I better work on that, and thanks for just now telling me, asshole."

  He smacked me in the back of the head and alcohol splashed onto my pants. "I always knew you were dumb, but I didn't think you were that dumb."

  I shot him a glare and grabbed a napkin to clean up his spill on me. “Dumb? I just graduated from an Ivy League college!”

  "For someone who just graduated from college, you're a dumbass. You had sex with our uncle's daughter."

  Every single pair of eyes at the bar shot my way with looks of disgust plastered onto their faces. It was my turn to smack my brother upside the head.

  "Stepdaughter," I clarified loudly to our audience, correcting my idiot brother's choice of words. "She's his stepdaughter; we are in no way blood-related," I added, slicing my hands through the air.

  "Blood or not, you better hope Dad or Uncle Kenneth don't find out." He snapped his fingers. "Oh, yeah, did you also forget about Eva, the girl you're supposed to be marrying?" he hissed, lowering his voice. The asshole wanted to shout to the world that I was in an incestuous relationship but lower his voice when he talked about my engagement.

  I shrugged, downing my glass. "What about Eva?" Eva had never come to mind when I hooked up with other girls because we weren't actually together. We'd made a pact. Both of us could do whatever we wanted with whomever we wanted until we got married. After our wedding, we’d be monogamous. I wasn’t happy about the whole arrangement, but I figured I could live with screwing Eva for the rest of my life. Until fucking Gabby wandered into my room. I needed to fuck her out of my system or something because time was ticking down before my monogamous deal was going through.

 

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