Chapter 2: Late as Always

Clarissa's P.O.V

Sleep--- What is sleep? It was something I knew nothing of, at least not without pestilent dreams. However, there was something about dark chocolate that seemed to settle the pallet well. I could not deny that I was addicted.

Rotating the square piece of chocolate in my hand, I gazed at it with a soft smile on my face. Intense Dark Chocolate- 72% cocoa. My mouth watered, reading the label, but my blue eyes gazed towards the café door, chiming as it opened, pulling me out of my satisfaction.

The sounds of the wading crowds outside came trickling through the front door—It was coffee time, as my shirt so gladly described. There was never a time in my life that I could remember not liking the hot refreshing beverage.

Growing up in the south, you learn to love things that would not be so common at a young age. If I remember correctly, I could almost picture the young brown-haired, blue-eyed girl taking her first sip of her grandmother's coffee.

The memory was so good I could practically savor it. However, a quick knock to my chair brought me back to reality as my eyes quickly met that of a blond-haired older woman.

"I'm sorry. Excuse me." The woman greeted as she passed by.

My gaze followed the woman, giving me glimpses of memories spent with my grandmother when I was little. My parents died when I was young, and though I did not have too many memories of them, I had the stories my grandmother told me.

My mother was a gorgeous blonde woman with sophisticated traits and a heart made of gold. My grandmother said my mother would not hesitate to give the shirt off her back to a person in need.

One day, I hoped I could be that passionate and caring.

The loud sounds of people moving within the café drew my consciousness to my surroundings. The café was getting busier, and it was about time I headed off to work.

There was nothing like hearing the never-ending ramble of my boss on the rules of being on time, and if I were lucky, I could catch the yellow line train without having to wait.

Giving one last glance around the café, I sighed and stood to collect the belongings I had scattered across my table.

I had been here writing and appreciating my favorite coffee as I snacked on the dark chocolate I had become addicted to. My notebook was full of scattered fantasies and horrors that would make the ordinary person question their sanity.

My wild imagination had become more frequent lately and was not as enjoyable. I would much rather have dreams about an astonishingly sexy man caressing me against a brick wall.

But my dreams were always about running for my life.

I could almost still feel all the emotions from what had happened: the pain, mourning, the utter fear of being caught. There was something about the primal growl that dug deep into my soul and made me afraid of something I did not understand.

Pushing the last of my belongings into my leather messenger bag, I quickly slung it over my shoulder as I made my way through the array of people towards the door.

The busy streets grew more crowded as I exited the café. Bodies were bumping into each other and yelling for taxis that never seemed to come. It was a cool, wet morning, and the chill seemed to seep through my oversized yellow sweater.

Drawing my bag tighter against my body, I turned left and headed into the masses. My feet carried me quickly through the sea of people and towards an old part of town where the buildings held stories of historic times, keeping so many secrets.

The Yellow line was right there at the start of Yuppyville, or so they called it.

It was not uncommon to see the ordinary hot dog place and newspaper stands lingering on the street corners in Chicago. Chicago was a marvelous place to live, and even though I grew up a southern belle, I felt at home within the big city.

The nine-minute walk to the Yellow line got me there just in time to see the train pull up. Rushing up the steps, I entered the train cart and sat in my customary place. It was fun to put in my headphones and watch the different people that came and went.

It made my thirty-nine-minute train ride go a lot faster, for sure.

It did not take long to get to the Ogilvie Transportation Center. Hastily exiting the train, I made my way to the Green Line that would lead me to State near my office. I enjoyed my morning commute.

I was an observer, and watching people was an entertaining thing for me.

I was fortunate to be the junior editor of a local publishing firm, which meant that I could be left to my own devices most of the time. Writing had always been a passion I had from a young age, and being able to help make other writers' dreams come true was something that just set my heart ablaze.

What most people did not realize is that with writing, there was a sea of endless possibilities. You could get lost in the array of mystery and wonder by just picking up a book.

Walking up to the firm, I instantly noticed Alyssa sitting outside on the cast iron bench.

Oh god. I inwardly groaned as I pushed a smile onto my face.

She waited for me every morning while she smoked a cigarette. And with the way she shook her leg as she waited, something wasn't right.

Alyssa was an outgoing woman with short curly blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She drew attention wherever she went with her delicate features and perfect smile. We had been friends for as long as I could remember.

When I took the job in Chicago, she moved with me from southern Georgia. It was even more perfect that she could get a job at the same publishing firm as me, but with her marketing role.

"Bout damn time you got here." Alyssa said rashly, heading towards me.

"I got here at the same time I do every day." I replied, giving her a questioning look as I walked past her. Her firm grip on my upper arm stopped me in my tracks. She seemed like a soft-spoken gentlewoman, but anyone that knew her knew she could be a ruthless outgoing go getter.

"Clarissa..." she said with determination, putting on her motherly tone.

It was something she always did when she was being serious, and even though I knew I didn't have time for it right now, there was no way she would let me go until I listened.

"What?" I replied, rolling my eyes.

"Well..." she said with a scoff as she raised a brow, "If you answered your phone or checked your messages. You would see that Brantley Robbins is here for the quarterly check, and supposedly some other big news that I am not sure of."

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I sighed. "Seriously?" I groaned, trying to process the information.

Alyssa gave me one of her victorious smirks as she placed her hands on her hips. "Oh yeah, and it gets better... Brantley is upstairs already."

Realization quickly sank in, and I turned, making my way into the office building and straight for the stairs. No point in taking the elevator; I was going to sneak into my office undetected.

Brantley Robbins was the CEO of the company I was employed by. I had never met him personally, but everyone said he was a young wealthy prospect and had a cruel disposition for people who did not follow his neat and prim idea of success.

Silently opening the side stairs door, I checked over the hallway, making sure the coast was clear. My office was only two doors down, and I felt a surge of confidence when I saw the hallways empty.

Stepping from the closed door, I pushed forward, acting as if I had been there the entire time. A gasp of relief followed the soft clasp of my office door. Thinking that I made it without alerting to anyone the truth.

Yet, as I turned around, I realized how wrong I had been.

"Ms. Iver." I couldn't help but gape in astonishment at the handsome man casually leaning there. Brantley was tall and lean with a well-built physic. The gentle redness of his hair outlined his bright olive eyes.

"Shit." Of course, that was the only word that would come from my mouth at a time like this. I watched as the man raised his eyebrow at my reply. "Sorry."

So much for the powers above being on my side. Straightening myself, I adjusted my bag on my shoulder, acting as if I was not bothered by the godly man's presence.

If I was going to get fired, I would do it with my head held high.

Even if this man was incredibly sexy.. he wasn't the first I had come across.