Unravelling Consequences

Sunlight stroked the curtain and reflected on her face from where she lay on the bed.

Emily hauled the duvet over her head, murmuring phrases that could not be deciphered.

The room was friendly, not cold like hers was presumed to be.

Wait! Where was she? The sun reflected in the whole room this time, pointing at the crown mirror hanging on the wall.

She wobbled her head, confused.

Emily let out her first yawn of the day and sat up on the hefty bed. She heard snores and veered around to her left to see him… laid next to her. His snores were peaceful and not audible like a man's snore should be.

Naturally.

"Shit shit shit!" She realized where she was and jumped off the bed. "No!" She wailed, glimpsing at her stripped self when she slid off the duvet.

What happened here?

Did she…fuck with this man? Confused, she picked her clothing from the floor where they stayed, even with the man's clothing.

Now she scurried to the door, propelled it open and walked out after wearing her clothing. She needed to be sure there was no one in the hall before rolling to the hotel reception.

Emily walked gently, she looked like a mess in the early hours of the morning and the last thing she wanted was to be seen.

Reaching the hall, she made a discovery.

There were no chairs in the hall anymore, and the podium in which the men and women who communicated to her and many others a few hours ago were gone.

Now her eyes flickered to the colossus wall clock hanging in an intersection of the clean room, and she saw what had to be seen.

"No!" She screamed, hurrying back to the enclosure.

Jesus, she thought it was still in the night. How did she consume the night in the arms of a man, and wake up the next morning looking like a mad individual?

Emily caught up with the door and pressed it open. Alexander was up, brushing his face with one of his hands. He peeked up to see the woman's piercing gaze and gave a smile. "Good morning, pretty lady." He greeted, hopping off the bed.

"Good morning, Mr. Stone," she murmured, taking the yield of her handbag from the floor where it was on.

Her notebook, the key to her house and Bic found their way out of the bag the night before, her next task was to pick them up and push them back into the bag.

"I had a nice time with you," Alexander said, causing her stare to meet with his. "Do you mind if I have your number?" He asked, however, walking into his briefs.

"At least you know what to do," she hissed, closing her eyes for a moment. "Why do I have to give you my contact, Mr. Stone?"

"My name is Alexander, young lady," he rectified. "This is not my Enterprise, neither are you my staff. Do not refer to me with an honorific."

Emily scoffed. She was yet to process everything that happened, but then, she dipped her hand in her purse and brought out a card. "This is my card."

"A NovusTech staff," he read from the card. "Are you sure you don't want to come to work with me, Lady?"

"Have a nice day, Mr. Stone," she said and headed to the door. "I don't want to work for you, or with you."

"Think about it."

"I already have."

"And you still do not want to?"

She turned to see his dark, handsome face. "I had a nice time with you too, Alexander." She smiled in confession, opened the door and walked away.

The door banged when she shut it, an act she didn't mean to display.

Scurrying down the stairs, she heaved a sigh, deeply. How late was she for work? And what justification will she come up with today?

The bastard of a boss was seeking a way to relieve her of her responsibilities at the office, and would not think twice to fire her when the slightest opportunity came by.

A cab was close, and Emily flagged.

"Where?" The man on the wheel wined down his glasses and extracted his cap.

"House 23," she said. "Maple Street."

"Hop in," he commented. "The back door is open."

The next thing she did was take a few notes from her handbag before hopping in the cab. One of her favourite jams by Billy Joel was on the play, giving mixed feelings of pleasure and regret.

Should she feel bad?

No, at least, not yet.

The man did not take her by pressure, she gave him her permission when he made the move hours ago in the bathroom. The jam stopped playing after some time and Emily was deep in her thoughts when the old man announced their arrival at house 23.

"Ohh, my bad," she threw the notes at him and hopped down. "Thank you."

She was inside the house in a few moments, finding the key in her handbag. Emily tossed a sigh when her hand found the item, and she opened her front door the next instant, then walked into her living room.

How much more tired can she be? She thought, plopping to the sofa in the living room. She definitely could not make it to work anymore, resuming hours was gone an hour ago, and showing up at the office was the most embarrassing thing she would do.

Mr. Reynold would play his games if she did, as usual, leaving her embarrassed in the presence of other staff members and Mrs. Blackwell who loved scenes like that.

They could go to hell for all she cares about. The lady picked up her stuff and reached for the door to her room, smiling. "Why do you smile, Emily?" She asked herself, pushing open the door. "I mean, I should be mad at myself for giving in to some strange guy on an occasion."

She should be, but isn't.

Her phone beeped when she walked into the bathroom.

Whatever the message was, was not as important as taking a bath was, at the moment. The liquid between her legs from the night before was rinsed at the end of everything.

It all changed when the message that came into her phone read, "Do not bother coming back to the office. You are fired."