by Alana Jade
Why would someone have such things in their work desk?
“How was your first day?” a voice calls out from behind and startles me.
Spinning around, I see Zac.
“It was good, thank you, Mr. June,” I politely respond, even though his stance is sending my creep-o-meter off big time.
Piss off, you weirdo, I say in my head.
“Why so formal? Call me Zac. Mr. June is my dad, and he’s a giant ass.”
“It’s how I was raised. For people higher in a business position, or for people who are older than me, you give them a salutation. My father taught me that, and he never led me wrong.”
“I heard you’re the old boss’ daughter. Didn’t know him, though. Adam speaks about him like he’s a god. Well, anyway, call me Zac,” he says to my breasts.
It’s not like they’re hanging out of my top, they’re completely covered in this T-shirt, but he hasn’t taken his eyes off them for a good thirty seconds, so I stand from my chair.
“Zac,” a female from a few feet away calls in an almost sing-song voice. “Are we going?”
I peer around Zac’s shoulder and see Isabel with her hand positioned on a popped hip.
He rolls his eyes before turning around. “No, Isabel. I need to speak to Adam. See you tomorrow.”
Isabel’s changed out of her work attire and is now wearing what looks like gym wear—a crop top and tight-fitting leggings. Lucky bitch with her awesome, tiny figure.
Her face drops as she pouts. “Fine. See you later, then.” She turns on her heel storming off to the bank of elevators.
I find it odd she’s behaved that way with her boss. It doesn’t seem very professional to me, but I guess I don’t know them well enough to pass judgment. Maybe this is how they are with each other. Zac did tell me he likes things more casual.
He spins around to face me—well, my chest—continuing to talk to my boobs. However, I tune out. I look at my clock on my computer screen several times, trying to give him the hint I’d like to leave for the day.
“Would you like to get a drink to celebrate your first day on the job?” Zac asks.
“No, she wouldn’t, Zac,” Adam gruffly says from behind him.
“Think she can make up her own mind, ol’ buddy.” Zac smirks at Adam.
Adam’s getting angry with Zac. His fists are balled at his sides, and a vein is noticeably bulging in his neck. It’s making me really uncomfortable.
“Thank you for the offer, Zac, but not tonight. I’m exhausted.” I am trying to neutralize the situation. I’m trying my hardest not to gag at the thought of a date with Zac.
“Georgia, so you know, Zac does know this rule well. We have a strict no inter-office dating policy. Drinks after work with a group are fine, but one on one could be misconstrued as a date, which could lead to a warning.”
I nod my reply but think to myself, I don’t even need to know that rule. I’m here to get my life back on track, not for the dating scene.
“Adam, all those damn rules. When are you going to loosen up, man?” Zac asks as he takes a few steps toward Adam, slapping him on the back. He’s acting as though he’s drunk, but I can’t smell liquor on his breath. Maybe this is simply his personality.
“I’m not getting into this again with you, Zac. Respect the rules, and we won’t have a problem. All right?” Adam then grabs the top of Zac’s arms pulling him close to whisper something in his ear which I can’t hear.
“Whatever. See you both tomorrow.” Zac walks off, waving his hand over his shoulder.
Adam offers a small smile after Zac has gotten into the elevator, mouthing, “Sorry.”
I shrug my shoulders, not sure what to say. A sudden throb on my temple makes me bring my hand to my head and massage the spot. Perhaps today’s been such a big day, my body is calling for me to stop. I clear my throat, asking, “Is he okay?”
“He’ll be fine. Zac likes to push the rules as far as he can. One of the reasons why he’ll never be my partner.”
I nod my head. It’s an uncomfortable moment of silence as I switch off my computer and shuffle some items around on my already clean desk.
“Who knew there was a desk under all of those folders.” Adam chuckles. “My old PA had a very strange way of filing, but it seemed to work for her. I understand why you’d tidied it up, though. It was a mess. What works for one doesn’t necessarily work for others.”
“Yes, that’s right. She did have some interesting items in her desk drawers, though.” I giggle for a second before returning to a more serious tone. “I hope I’ve done an adequate job today.”
“You’ve been great. I’ll teach you how to book appointments and some other things on the computer tomorrow morning, but I’m sure you’ve had a long enough day. Let’s get you settled into your new home.”
Relief washes over me. Home time, plus I have a home to go to. I count my lucky stars, but it hasn’t really sunk in. I’ll have an actual bed to sleep in tonight. Bubbles of excitement start to rise in my stomach as I try to quash the silly giggle that’s trying to escape.
“Should I follow you there? Or do you want to leave first, or I leave first?”
“We can ride down to the parking garage together, Georgia.” He laughs.
“I don’t want to come across in a negative way to other employees,” I offer as I feel my cheeks redden.
“It won’t. Two workmates can ride an elevator at the same time. Before, I was talking about office dating. That’s the big no-no.” He gleams. Seeing his expression causes my stomach to flutter and my heart to race a little. Adam’s hot, I won’t deny that, but I need to be professional here.
“Of course.”
“I’m usually the last one to leave the office. It’s close to six now, the only employees left will be the parking garage security staff along with the cleaners. Most people leave right on five.”
I nod my reply, absorbing the information and tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
“How about we head to the parking garage? I’ll get my car and drive it up to meet yours, then you can follow me back to my house. Saves you worrying about directions.”
“Great. Sounds good me.”
We take the elevator down to the parking garage. I get out first while Adam goes down another level. I have to admit, even though this place is well lit, it’s a bit creepy. Given what I’ve been through in my life, sometimes I’m scared by my own shadow.
Unlocking my poor old rust bucket of a car, I throw my things onto the front seat and slide in, slamming the door closed and locking it. I put the key in the ignition and turn it, pumping the gas at the same time. Nothing.
“No girl, don’t do this now.”
It does this occasionally.
She’s just having a moment.
I try again, still nothing.
There’s no noise. It’s dead. The third time I try, I pump the gas first before turning it over but still nothing. I don’t try again at risk of flooding the engine.
“Crap,” I cry, banging my palms on the steering wheel.
I’m startled by Adam’s horn behind me. I climb out of the car and walk around to his window, trying not to look defeated.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Stupid car won’t start. I don’t have roadside assist,” I say in frustration, slapping my hand on my leg. “Looks like I’ll be staying here after all. Sorry to keep you waiting.” I start walking away. Dammit! A large lump has formed in my throat. I will it to go away, and that’s when I hear Adam’s car door pop open.
“Georgia, don’t be silly. I can give you a lift. Security must be on patrol right now, so I’ll leave a note for Fernando to call my mechanic tomorrow morning. I’ll drive you home now and to work in the morning.”
“I can’t ask you to do that, Adam. I’ve already put you out so much.” Warmth begins to spread through my body. This man is unbelievably kind.
He leans in closer to me, saying, “We’re going to the same place a
nyway, so it’s no hassle.” He gives me a friendly bump with his forearm, and I swear it’s like I’ve been given an electric shock. “Grab your stuff, hop in. I’ll go write a note now.”
I nod, before heading back to my car, pull the keys from the ignition, and grab my bag. I’ve taken my dirty laundry as I’ll wash it tonight. I’ll pick up the rest tomorrow once I find a suitable washing machine. Tomorrow night after work, I’ll have to ask Adam if I can borrow some money to go to the shopping center to buy some suitable work clothes.
After putting my things in the rear seat, I slide into the front passenger seat and wait for Adam to get back. Luckily, I’m not left alone with my thoughts for too long before Adam jumps back in the car.
As we drive out of the parking garage, I decide now is as good a time as any to bring up borrowing some money, so I swallow hard to ask. After all, what do I have to lose? “Adam, would I be able to have an advance on my salary, so I can purchase some clothes and groceries tomorrow night?”
“Tomorrow night?” he questions. “Do you want to go now? I can take you.”
“Thanks for the offer, but it’s been a massive day. I’m looking forward to a shower and relaxing,” I answer
“That’s fair enough. I’d happily put in extra hours for the advance,” I offer.
“Not necessary. I’ll give you my credit card. Go, purchase whatever you want or need to be comfortable. Make sure you add in a few work outfits.”
“That’s too much. I was only talking like maybe fifty dollars,” I protest.
“Please. I insist. And, after all, most of it will be spent on work clothes. Think of it like a uniform allowance.”
I slowly nod my head. The idea of him paying for clothing and necessities doesn’t sit right. I’m sure his wife or girlfriend won’t like the idea of him spending money on me. Then it hits me in the head like a stray baseball. “Adam,” I blurt out a little louder than intended, making him take his eyes off the road. Luckily, we’re stopped at a set of traffic lights.
“What’s wrong?”
“Won’t your wife or girlfriend get angry you’re bringing a strange girl home, plus letting her live in your guesthouse?”
He lets out a deep throaty laugh before giving his attention back to the road. “Georgia, I’m single. There’s no wife nor girlfriend. No casual relationships either if you’re wondering. Have you been sitting on your question for some time, or did it pop into your head?”
I want to be completely swallowed by the car seat right now. My face has suddenly heated up, and my ears burn as though someone’s speaking about me.
Although, in my defense, a handsome guy like Adam, I simply assumed he would have been off the market years ago.
“It just popped into my head. Something made me think about it,” I mutter.
Tucking in the cell charger I’ve borrowed from Adam into my bag, I decide to double-check it’s the right cord for my cell.
“It looks like a really old model,” Adam comments.
“It is.”
“It won’t have many apps available for it either?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Nope. A lot of the apps stopped working a while back after an update happened on the phone. I can’t even get Uber anymore.”
“Is your cell really that ancient it can’t run the uber app?”
I curl my lip as I look at my lap before nodding. “It’s one of the first iPhones. It barely works anymore. But I can still receive calls and send the odd text message. But even then, only one in five may get to their intended destination. The screen’s cracked. I need to rely on people hanging up the call on their end, otherwise the call stays open, or I have to turn my cell off.” I stop myself from going any further. Adam probably doesn’t know what it’s like to have to persevere with something so old. His car looks brand new, his cell is definitely the latest model iPhone.
“Well, we need to fix this. I can’t have one of my employees with an almost unusable cell. Please, when you go shopping, buy a new one. Whatever brand you’d like. My PA needs to always be contactable, therefore needs a cell that works and works well. It’s part of the employment contract, and I need you to have one.”
Shaking my head furiously, I begin to protest, but he stops me in my tracks.
“Think of it as a loan then. I feel it’s a matter of urgency that you get one.”
“A loan. I’ll pay back every penny,” I confirm.
He nods, although I can see the side of his mouth slightly upturned. “We’re only about five minutes away,” he advises.
The remainder of the trip is spent in silence except for the occasional noise of the turn signal or a random car horn.
The view takes my breath away as we head up a driveway and are stopped by two huge gates. The gardens are thick with vegetation. The bird of paradise flowers make themselves known through the dark green foliage.
“Evening, John,” Adam says. I flick my head to the side to see a man sitting in a booth-like box in amongst the garden.
“Evening, Mr. Cunningham,” he acknowledges. I’m surprised he doesn’t address Adam in a more upbeat manner. The man is an older gentleman, balding hair with a salt and pepper beard, but still looks like he can outrun anyone I know.
“This is Georgia Gellar. I believe Lucy left the guesthouse key here for her.”
I wave my hand, and he nods in acknowledgment. John hands the key to Adam before keying a code into a keypad, and the gates slide open before us.
“John is head of my security team. He’s not there all the time, though. He mans the booth in the morning and for a few hours in the evenings. I have Rico, Slay, Sully, Mac, and Jack who will also be around. Between them, all of the property is watched twenty-four hours a day. They patrol the property, so if they aren’t at the gate, I’ll give you the code. There’s a keypad in front of the booth under the flap.”
“Why do you need all this security?” I nervously ask.
“It’s a precaution more than anything. In my business, you never know who you might accidentally upset.”
I can see the large home. Hell, it’s a mansion up on the hill, and it’s all lit up. But we head down a side road and pull up outside a pretty looking, pale brick, much smaller home. The outside lights are on showing off the surrounding garden. This guy certainly loves his flowers. The outside of this home is one the best houses I’ve ever seen, so I can only imagine what the inside is like.
“This is your place,” he says, pulling up.
“Oh. My. Gosh,” I gasp. I was imagining a tiny house or a converted shed, not a full-size, brick guesthouse, and it’s situated right behind the main home.
I sit in the passenger seat as tears well in my eyes, but I blink them away. The generosity of this man is beyond anything I’ve ever experienced.
I have no idea how I’m going to repay him for this, but I will find a way.
Adam
It’s been two weeks since Georgia moved into the guesthouse, and I must admit, it’s great to have someone to share the property with.
In the beginning, I had full intentions of us doing our own thing—she lives in her place, me in mine, we would only see each other at work. Little did I know, we’ve become close friends. Occasionally, I feel she’s flirting with me, but maybe it’s wishful thinking on my behalf. I need to push those thoughts aside, keep our friendship purely platonic.
I don’t believe she’s cooked herself a meal in her kitchen yet. Well, nothing major anyway except for maybe grilled cheese sandwich or noodles. It makes sense for her to come into the main house and share the meal Lucy, my housekeeper, makes each night.
We’ve connected. It’s been such a long time since that’s happened for me. Our walls are coming down. It’s a wonderful feeling. Truth be told, I don’t have a lot of friends. Hell, I don’t have any, besides Georgia. Any friends I had were before I was taken under Ed’s wing, and he steered back along the right path. Those friends I had long ago are no longer around, especially with all the stupid
stuff we used to get up to. They were heavy into alcohol, and I was no exception. My days consisted of downing cheap wine or beer in drink bottles at the school gym, and my nights of finding any party we could get into and drinking until we passed out. But I needed out, to turn my life around. Ed helped me do that by getting me into AA and giving me a job.
But for that reason, it’s going to take me a long time to share any of this information with Georgia. The moment you mention you’ve been sober, even for the amount of time I have, people are turned off. My last girlfriend, Connie, did exactly that. I was planning on proposing, built this big house so we could live together and raise a family.
One day, Connie was looking for a pair of scissors in my office desk drawer at home and found my medal with my tally board. It’s a board I use to tick off how long I’ve been sober—it keeps me accountable to myself. To have these things close to me reminds me how I never want to go back to the life I used to lead. I feel it makes me a stronger leader.
Connie, however, didn’t see it that way. She packed up the same night and left. No amount of trying to convince her I was never going back there again would change her mind. She flat out told me she couldn’t handle an alcoholic, not even a sober one, because maybe one day I may not be. Connie had an alcoholic father, who was abusive toward her mother, and for that very reason, she was never going to commit to me. I shouldn’t have hidden it from her for so long, but I knew deep down the minute I told her, she would leave. And I was right!
Sure, one day I may open up to Georgia about it, but I’ll also have to tell her then how I met her father in the first place—it may be information she’s never known about him. How he helped out at a youth club plus, in a rehabilitation facility, trying to get teens back on their feet.
My biggest fear about telling Georgia the truth is she’ll leave me too. I know we aren’t even a couple, not even in a relationship, but I don’t want to lose her friendship. Friends can be as judgmental as a lover.
Georgia has mentioned she’s been having the occasional nightmare lately. She won’t tell me what they’re about, but all she does say is they are part of the reason why she’s homeless.
