I’m barreling down the street, walking towards my apartment. It’s getting dark out and I can’t wait to get home and get some dinner. This job may be a godsend but it doesn’t mean it’s all rainbows and butterflies.
“I should go, Val, thanks for the pep talk.”
“Anytime. Let’s meet up for brunch at the usual spot this weekend, you can tell me all about the other assholey things I’m sure he’ll be doing all week.”
I laugh dryly. “I’m sure I’ll have lots of material.”
We hang up the phone and I slip it into my purse. I’m rounding the corner to my apartment and feel in my purse for my keys. They aren’t in the usual small pocket so I pause, looking through the bag. No no no, please let me not have lost them. That familiar feeling of dread when I can’t immediately find my keys or phone or wallet is already welling up inside me when I feel the end of my keychain. Phew. I smile, and take another step towards my building.
Out of nowhere, a dark figure steps out of the alley. He’s big and imposing, and my heart drops to my stomach. I stop in my tracks.
“Emma Thompson,” he growls. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“I live here, Victor.”
He laughs that croaking, coughing laugh that makes my skin crawl.
“So you do. And you must know why I’m here.”
“I don’t have your money. Not yet, but I will. You told me you’d give me three months, it’s only been two.” I put my head down and try to walk around him. He side steps so that he’s in my way. I take a step back, finally looking up at his face. That white, jagged scar still cuts across his face from his forehead across to his left cheek. His eyes sling fire at me.
“Oh, I’m just reminding you what’s at stake here. You’d better get it to me, girl, or else you know what will happen.”
He takes a step towards me and instinctively I back up. I see his hand coming up towards my and my heart starts beating a million miles an hour. My blood runs cold with fear.
Time stands still and I feel weak and small. I’m powerless. I clutch my purse against me, wishing I had a knife, or some pepper spray, or something.
Then, as if he changed his mind, Victor drops his hand and turns towards a waiting car. The door of the black SUV opens and he jumps in and speeds away. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, and run to my apartment.
My hands are shaking when I pull out my keys and it takes me more than a couple seconds to get the key in the lock.
“Fucking fuck, fuck, come ON!” I whisper-yell to my door, as if it’s deciding to be difficult on purpose.
Finally the key goes in and I turn in. I’m inside. I lock the door, turn and run up the stairs to my unit. More keys, more locks, until I’m safe inside my own apartment. I slam every lock I can and lean against the closed door. My heart is hammering, I have tears in my eyes. I feel the cold shiver of fear and a feverish heat all at once. I rush to my kitchen and gulp down a tall glass of water.
Not now, not yet. It’s too soon for him to be paying me a visit.
Chapter 10 - Elliot
“You look different again, Dad. Did she break up with you?”
I look up from my bowl of chili at my feisty young daughter. She’s staring at me with those sharp blue eyes, spoon hanging in the space between her plate and her mouth.
“Where did you learn about all this,” I deflect. “You’re only ten, you’re not supposed to know about break ups and girlfriends.”
“Da-ad,” Gracie sighs. “First of all I’m almost eleven. I told you, I’m growing up. Get used to it.” She cocks her head to the side and stares back at me, challenging.
I chuckle. “Well, as I told you before, you’re the only girl in my life. You hear me? You’re my number one.” I take another bite of food. It’s my signature meal, one of the few things I’m able to make for the two of us on a weeknight. “There is something I wanted to talk to you about. I found out I’ll have to go to San Diego next week to make a speech, so you’ll have to stay at Nana’s for a couple days.”
Gracie looks up from her plate of pasta. “A speech! Cool! Can I come?”
“No, Gracie, it’s for work. You’ll have to stay with Nana.”
She lets out an exaggerated sigh and goes back to her food. I grin. Teenage years will be tough, I can tell already. I’m not sure how I managed to raise a daughter like her, she’s so different to me. When I pick her up at school she always has a big group of friends around her. Her smile seems to light up the other kid’s faces and they’re always hanging on her every word.
I can hardly manage a full sentence, especially these days.
We finish our food and I clear the table. I’ll have to call Gracie’s grandmother to confirm she’s able to take her during the conference. My stomach drops at the thought.
Mabel is a lovely woman. She’s kind and generous and she loves Gracie to bits. But every time I call her or see her I’m reminded of what I lost and what I could have had. My throat starts tightening. My eyes are getting blurry as I move the dishes to the sink. I can’t do this anymore. It’s been seven years and I’m still caught by surprise, still can’t function properly at the slightest bump in the road.
I take a deep breath and start running the water. It washes over the bowls and I wipe my eyes on the back of my hand. I just need a few seconds to compose myself.
The sponge moves over the dishes in slow circles. I take my time, feeling the water wash over my hands and the bowls. I’m putting the last of the dishes out to dry when I hear Gracie’s voice in the other room.
“Hi Nana! I just wanted to call to say hello.” I turn my head and frown. What is she doing? I walk quickly over to the living room and see her by the window, staring out and talking on the phone.
“Mm hmm, yes. School is good!” she continues. “Well, Dad just told me that he needs to go to San Diego for work next week and I was wondering if I could stay with you?” Her laugh rings out into the room and I feel my heart swell. “I don’t call him daddy anymore, Nana! I’m getting older. Ok, love you too. Bye”
Gracie hangs up and turns towards me. She walks over slowly and I crouch down, wrapping her in a big bear hug.
“You don’t have to call Nana, Dad. She said she’d love to have me and just let her know what days it was.” She pulls her head back and puts her tiny hands on either side of my cheeks. How did she know that I find it hard to talk to her grandmother? She’s way too intuitive for me.
My eyes are welling up with tears again. Gracie wraps her small arms around my neck. I pick her up and she wraps her legs around my waist like she used to when she was young. I spin around quickly, dipping her down and pulling her back up. Her laugh is like a healing balm on my heart, making my stress and worries dissipate. I spin her around again until we’re both dizzy, collapsing onto the couch.
Looking over at my daughter, I ruffle her red hair and she grins at me. “You still haven’t told me about this new girlfriend of yours.”
“Go get ready for bed, you cheeky monkey.”
Gracie’s grin widens. She knows she’s won this round. She stands up and saunters off towards the bathroom. I lay my head back against the sofa and close my eyes. I’m so lucky to have her, I know I wouldn’t have survived the past few years without her.
Sometimes I wonder if she’s been forced to grow up too fast. Maybe if there was a female role model in her life she wouldn’t need to take care of me so much. I could be a real parent and she wouldn’t need to do things like make phone calls for me. But the risk is too big. I promised myself a long time ago that I wouldn’t bring any woman into her life unless I was sure it was going to work out. And who could replace Chloe?
Chapter 11 - Emma
I walk into work and feel a wave of relief when I get there. I haven’t been comfortable on the streets since Victor popped up out of the shadows the other night. My desk is waiting for me, as are the stacks of files behind it.
It’s nice bein
g early and being the first one in. I drop my things on my desk and get started right away. I’ve successfully organised about a fifth of the files in the shelves. This morning I move on to a new section. It’s more recent, from only three years ago. The files are heavy but I drag them down and start working.
Once they’re organised chronologically, I get to work organising them alphabetically in each year’s box. A name catches my eye on the top of the pile: Melodie Sanders. I glance up. I’m still alone. Curiosity gets the most of me and I open the file up.
I’m greeted with a long itemised list of work that she’s had done. My eyes trail down the paper, eyebrows shooting up. She’s definitely spared no expense. One line item catches my eye: Aesthetics Management Fee. That fee is almost as much as the most expensive procedure.
My brows furrow as I read through the list of procedures again. There’s a consultation fee, procedures fees, itemised list of materials. This extra “management” fee doesn’t make sense. I flick over to the file below it, one Estelle Smith. No Aesthetics Management Fee in that one.
Something is strange with this. When I worked as an accountant, people would sometimes try to hide income or over-report expenses as a tax evasion tactic. This is exactly the type of thing we’d be looking for.
I shake my head. I’m getting ahead of myself. I’ve been here three days working reception and already I think I’m uncovering some underhanded fraud conspiracy. I shouldn’t be looking through these files anyways. I close Melodie’s file and stack it alphabetically, putting the pile back in the shelf behind me.
The management fee keeps circling back to the front of my mind, but I don’t have time to investigate any further. Doctor Yates walks in the door. I look up from my desk and smile.
“Good morning!”
Did his eyes just narrow? He glances at my desk.
“No filing this morning?” I feel the urge to lie to him, to hide the fact that I was looking through the files. Instead, I smile.
“Just a box before I you walked in, should be done by the end of next week.”
“Good work, Emma. Glad to have you on board.” His voice is gruff, he sounds anything but glad to have me on board. He rushes past me and down the hallway.
Just as the door to his office closes I let out a sigh. My heart is beating hard in my chest, and my palms have gone sweaty. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. Why did that make me so nervous? I feel like I’m doing something wrong but I’m trying to help. Victor’s face floats into my mind and I shake my head. I’m just being paranoid.
The phone rings and I answer.
“Manhattan Aesthetics, how may I help you?”
“Emma, it’s Stuart. Can you come to my office please?”
“Sure thing, I’ll be right there.”
I put down the phone and stare ahead into space. He definitely did not look happy with me looking through those files, maybe he’s calling me over to his office tell me off. All of a sudden my heart is beating again and my leg is jumping up and down. I’m nervous.
I stand up and straighten my skirt. I crunch my curls and check my lipstick in my pocket mirror. Setting my shoulders back, I take a deep breath and head to his office. Before I can knock on the door, it swings open.
“Emma, come in,” Doctor Yates says without looking at me. I glance in the room and see him. Elliot, sitting in a seat across from Dr. Yates’ desk. I shuffle in and glance over at him. He stares straight ahead and doesn’t stir when I sit down. Fine, I think. Be that way.
“Emma, I called you in here with Elliot to let you know I’ve selected you to accompany him to the conference next week. It’s a wonderful opportunity and I think Elliot could use the help preparing his presentation.”
“Stuart, like I said earlier, there’s no need. I’ll be fine on my own.”
Dr. Yates holds up a hand and Elliot stops talking. “Doctor Davis,” he says in a hard voice. “This is an important event and we need to represent the practice to the best of our abilities. Emma here has shown some initiative, I think it would be a good help for you and a wonderful experience for her. I won’t here any more complaints. Now Emma,” he says, turning his gaze to me. “Please continue to come in early, but go see Dr. Davis. Your filing project can wait until you get back.”
“Fine.” Elliot says. He puts his hands on the chair’s arms and pushes himself up. His cologne fills my nostrils when he brushes past me. It’s spicy and musky and it sends a thrill through me. He leaves the room and takes my breath with him. I glance up at Dr. Yates. Is he serious? A two day conference across the country? With Elliot Davis??
The thought of being alone with him for two days simultaneously fills me with dread and a deep sense of excitement. I wonder if he would still be so rude when we’re outside the office.
“Thank you, Doctor.” I finally say to him.
“It’s my pleasure,” he responds, softening his eyes. “Make sure that man does the best he can.”
I smile. “I will. I’ll get back to my desk now, I think the first clients are arriving soon.”
He waves a hand to dismiss me. I walk out of his office and close the door behind me. Dr. Davis’ office is just two doors down. I glance in that direction and take a step towards him, and then pause. You know what, he stormed off and obviously doesn’t want my help, and is hell bent on being as rude as he can to me. Let him struggle as much as he wants to. I’ve got work to do. He doesn't’ deserve my help.
Chapter 12 - Elliot
Once again I’m slumped in my chair, wondering how I’ll get myself out of this one. I can’t spend two days alone with her! Everyone knows what happens at conferences. There’s a day full of talks and then it’s just a boozy evening. “Networking” or whatever they like to call it.
I have to stop myself staring at her every time I’m in the same room as her. She walked in to Stuart’s office and those curves were screaming my name. It was all I could do to keep looking at Stuart’s gnarly face. I close my eyes and breathe deep. I had to glue my hands to my thighs, all I could think of was running my fingers down her spine and over that round ass of hers.
I need to stop this. Stuart wasn’t joking around, and I’m going to be spending time alone with her whether I like it or not.
I sigh. She made me a coffee yesterday and has been making an effort to be nice to me, and what have I done? I’ve ignored her and treated her like she’s invisible. If only she knew that she’s anything but invisible to me.
I feel off-balance. My world has shifted and I don’t know how to react. Every time I look at Emma all I see is her. My Chloe. She had the same eyes, the same smile. I feel a tightness in my chest and my eyes are prickling. How can I compare them! How can I compare anyone to Chloe?! It’s wrong. It’s a betrayal.
I promised Chloe I’d take care of Gracie, and that’s what I’ve done for the past seven years. Nothing has changed except my dick seems to think I’m fourteen years old again. I’m a grown man, for crying out loud. I can control myself.
With one more deep breath I stand up and march myself out to reception. I see her before she hears me coming. She’s leaning over her desk looking at a stack of files. Her grey pencil skirt is hugging her hips and ass like it was made for her. Her curls are falling over her face and I can just see how she’s biting her lip in concentration.
Just the sight of her like that, leaning on her desk makes my cock twitch in my pants. I feel the unfamiliar thrill of desire rush down my spine and I have to grip the wall to steady myself. How does she do this to me?!
I clear my throat and she jumps a little, slamming the file she was looking at closed.
“Oh, Dr. Davis,” she says, surprised. She looks flushed, embarrassed. I try to glance over at the file she was staring at so intently but I can’t see the name. My eyes drag back to her and I feel my cock twitch again. The buttons on her blouse are straining against her chest and all I can think about is what it would feel like to rip it open and pull her against
me.
I clear my throat again.
“Emma,” I start. I look away, to the floor, the window, anywhere but those eyes. “I wanted to apologise. I’ve been rude to you and you’ve been only nice to me since you got here. We have to work together and I want this conference to go as smoothly as possible.”
“Oh,” she breathes. She clears her throat as well. “It’s ok, Dr. Davis. Do you.. Do you need help preparing anything?”
“No!” That sounded too loud, too abrupt. I try to soften my voice. It’s so hard to talk to her without imagining what her skin would taste like. “No, thank you. Not right now. I might ask you to help me with the presentation once I’ve written up the content. I’m not great with computers.”
“Well!” her face brightens. “Today is your lucky day, Doctor!” I know that, I think instinctively. “Because you’re looking at the master of all things PowerPoint. I will make the shit out of your presentation!”
She sweeps her hands in a dramatic motion and poses in front of me like she’s on The Wheel of Fortune. I feel my lips betray me, curling upwards into a smile. She’s beaming and I can’t help but start laughing. It bubbles up from my core and shakes my shoulders until she’s laughing as well. It feels good to laugh. It feels good to laugh with her.
“I guess it is my lucky day,” I respond. She smiles back and then stares at me with those deep brown eyes.
“You should smile more,” she says softly. “It suits you.”
I don’t know how to respond, so I say nothing. My smile fades and I nod, turning around to head back to my office. My steps feel lighter and I can still feel the afterglow of her smile beaming at me. I’d do anything to laugh with her again.
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