“Emma? Mr. Carrero wants to see you.” A small childish voice comes up behind me, causing me to flinch and drop my duster. My heart hits a sudden stop as I inhale heavily pushing back my hair which is stuck to my face from the exertion of my enthusiastic cleaning, my eyes widening in disbelief.
What? Jake? He’s here?
My brain reels a moment with a lurch of possibility before sense smacks me in the chest sharply, kickstarting rapid heartbeats.
No. Giovanni! Of course!
I feel like an idiot. I throw a tight smile her way before turning smoothly to acknowledge the girl, pushing down signs of my overreaction and trying to calm my crazy thudding pulse rate. It’s one of the small receptionists, all blonde hair, and big boobs—like most of Senior’s staff. He’s sickeningly singular about the women in his employ, finding those whose looks are less like the wom
Wilma Munro is a shock to the system. She’s Scottish and her accent is thick, but not completely alien, with hints of a long New York residency. I can understand her for the most part and she’s a resolute force to be reckoned with.Wilma is small with dark coppery curly hair and huge brown eyes set in a love heart face, standing at only four and a half feet tall. She catches me immediately in her whirlwind of enthusiastic energy. Loud, but not in a commanding way, she is direct, yet friendly and slightly terrifying. She whisks me into my new domain, assigns me a desk near her office, and outlines my responsibilities as part of her team, thrusting a box of files at me. She believes throwing someone in at the deep end brings out their inner worth.“I’ve heard enough about you, Miss. Anderson, to know you were being wasted at Carrero Tower. I’ve great expectations of you.” She smiles warmly, soft eyes twinkling merrily as she fawns over
They both sit and begin to eat; the silence is awkward and tense, but no one attempts to initiate conversation. The nurse looks around timidly before deciding staring at her plate is the best option and lowers her head. Finally, feeling my irritation rise beyond control, I break the glass-like atmosphere with a sledgehammer.“Why are you here?” I blurt out, with not so subtle venom.“I … We needed to talk about things, Emma.” She lowers her lashes, attempting to be coy, maybe even feebleness, but it only angers me. Putting her fork down and crossing her hands on the table she leans toward me.“About what exactly? The fact that you’re screwing the man who loves to beat both of us up and tried to rape your only child?” I spit, harshly, taking delight in the nurse’s gasp of shock and the color rising up her cheeks.I guess she didn’t know after all.“Yes … Emma, he&rsqu
I get into the elevator, smoothing down my skirt, and glance at the narrow mirror by the door, sighing and take my place at the side of a couple of staff in here. I look better, feel better, and more in control. I’ve only been back at Executive House for a few days, but somehow the familiarity of this building, and the people who knew me as Jake’s assistant so treat me with more respect than I received at Carrero Tower, have helped me get back on track.I’ve barely slept the last few nights. My mother’s appearance has left my mind in a constant cyclone of thoughts and insecurities. I’ve replayed my mother’s words a million times in my head, none of it makes sense to me, the obvious aside, I can’t wrap my brain around her admission.Ray isn’t the kind of person to up and run off because another guy gave him a taste of his own medicine. He only left years ago because I threatened to involve the police. I’m sure someth
I sit in the ladies’ restroom on a soft plush chaise lounge in the washing area. It’s the only place I could get to quickly that was private enough to bring myself back to inner calm. My head is all over the place. This is about more than just Jake. It’s everything. I’ve been holding it all in since the morning after my mother left. Her, my lack of ability to stay in control, the aching loneliness of Jake’s absence, and now seeing him. It’s all too much.Maybe it’s time I faced reality and looked for another job. I was stupid to think I could work here, only floors away from him. Acting like we don’t know each other anymore. I just can’t do it.I can’t handle the thought that any time I leave this floor I might see him. There’s a chance we could run into one another anywhere in this building, and I’ve just proven I can’t deal with it.Looking around at the contemporary furnish
I walk up the hall toward my desk glancing at the clock. I’ve been gone almost two hours, but something tells me Wilma won’t mind. I’ve worked like crazy since coming here and she seems to trust my skills. I’ve returned a lot calmer and happier. I’ll happily put in the hours at the end of the day to make sure she knows I’m not abusing my second chance at being here. She’ll be happy with that. Plus, now I have some sort of plan about what I’m going to do, I feel better. I’ve always liked plans and control, knowing where I’m going and what I’m doing. Despite it not being exactly what I want in life, it’s a step forward with a new focus. Determined to move on I have a notebook full of jobs to look at later tonight, resolving to apply for at least one of them.I beam at her as I pass her glass walled office and she grins back, phone to her ear and animated hand gestures. I’ll miss her, even though my ti
I swallow hard, a wave of fear creeps up from my toes and envelopes my body.“You and I need to talk … Now!” He slams the door, latching it so no one else can enter. I’m sure the entire floor heard the bang. My body stiffens, this is the last thing I need. Being in here and feeling the way I do; I have no defensive play for him this way.How can he just sweep in like a tornado and ruin me? All the control I mustered, all that inner calm, gone, with just his voice and a look.I turn away, sure he’ll see the emotion filling my eyes as I pull the file from the copier, throwing it among the piles I’ve laid out. It’s a good excuse to keep my head turned away, using the task to stop tears from spilling over while I scramble to hold on to any control I have left.The only thing I manage to say is, &ldquo
“What do you want to ask me, Emma?” He leans against the wall of the elevator and casually sprawls back, crossing a foot at the ankle over his other and perching his butt against the handrail. His hands are in his pockets and he’s looking at the floor. This is the Prince Carrero pose I’ve seen so many times before, relaxed, in his domain. I eye him up warily and sigh down my rejections to his manhandling.“Ray Vanquis,” I utter quietly. He looks up, but I’m unable to meet his eyes. When I don’t say anything else, he stands upright and steps toward me.“Has he contacted you?” his anger evident with each word. “What has he done? Has he hurt you?” His hand grabs my wrist, pulling me to him, harshly. There is a fire in his eyes, an instant rage almost boiling over. His body is hunched into me, as a sort of protective shield and his face is terrifying. Sharp angles and simmering fury.“No,
It’s dark out by the time I look up. I stretch out my back and get out of my seat. I’ve placed more than twenty calls, emailed back and forth with several PAs dealing with invites for various important people, and I’ve liaised with the event planner. I’m sure there’s nothing else I can do tonight since it’s nearly 7.00 p.m.The weather’s moving toward winter so the sun’s setting earlier. I didn’t expect it to be this dark. I regret staying so late, since the walk from the station in Queens will be dark and slightly frightening.I clear up my desk and power down my laptop then pick up my coat and bag, walking to the elevator with a stifling yawn. It pings, the doors open, and I enter, not surprised to find it empty. The elevator slows down and pings again, I look up to notice it’s stopped at the fourteenth floor. Odd, since very few staff stay beyond five thirty. I don’t think Jake and I ever left before