by Tilly Pope
But it’s a quarter to one in the morning and HR is not here.
Steve unlocks the security door and I step in, my eyes immediately going to the prone figure on the sofa bed. I pause as my mind freezes in shock. The woman half-lying half-sitting on the sofa is…not what I was expecting.
I was ready to ream her out and kick her out the door but that was before I saw who I’d be dealing with. There’s an aura about her of tragic fragility as if she’s expecting me to go crazy on her. Her eyes are avoiding mine. I’m curious to know exactly what color they are. She has a full thick head of blonde hair lying like an untidy halo around her head.
Her blouse has slid off her shoulder and her clavicle is showing. Her collar bones are hollow as if she doesn’t eat enough and my fingers itch to feed her a cheeseburger. I don’t understand where this is coming from.
To make up for how off-kilter she has me, I scowl.
“Sit up and look at me, please.”
She jumps, shudders and then struggles to sit upright. Her face twists as if she might be in pain. Maybe she ran into Lars’ bony elbow when she fell against him.
Serves her right.
She looks up at me and at last, I can see her eyes. They’re a deep blue, like the Pacific on a clear sunny day. They also look about as deep and thoughts of drowning and immersion flit through my mind. Super-cheesy thoughts that I have no idea where they come from.
She’s staring at me, waiting I guess, for my judgment.
“Explain yourself,” I demand only to hear her voice. I hope it’s high and squeaky or she’s a complete dumbass so that whatever this thing is, can go away.
“I…” her voice is hoarse and soon peters off. She swallows, looking up at me as if she expects me to eat her.
“Go on,” I try to look as uncompromising as possible but her breasts are heaving and I think in her fright, her nipples have gone hard. They really are quite perky. It’s distracting.
“I uhm, I was serving the men drinks. One of them had ordered a second drink and I was taking it to him only I think my shoe twisted and I kind of slipped and then one of them…uh…well…one of them squeezed my ass and that startled me—”
“So you’re blaming the client for your mistake?” I cut in just because I can.
“N-no of course, I’m not. I’m just telling you what happened.”
“Okay, so your foot twisted and you fell? That’s what you’re saying?”
She stares at me wide-eyed. The blueness of her eyes really is striking. “Y-yeah,” she says, at last, having caught on that blaming the clientele is not the best defense.
I peer down at her feet. For sure I can see that her ankle is all red and swollen. She’s at least telling the truth about that. I look at her shoes and raise my eyebrows. “Are those shoes really practical for work? As far as I know, it’s not company policy for you to wear such shoes while hostessing.”
“It’s not company policy, but it’s encouraged. The clients like it.”
I stare at her in surprise. I know she didn’t just accuse us of running some sort of brothel.
“I just wanted a few tips that’s all. This whole situation is just ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous? You could have lost me some really excellent clientele Ms.…what’s your name?”
She stiffened her spine. “It’s Julia. Julia Sparks.”
“Ms. Sparks I would advise you to take this a little more seriously than you obviously are.”
She dropped her eyes, long black lashes sweeping downward, creating such a mouth-watering picture. “I’m sorry. I’m just…I’m in pain. It’s hard to think.”
My eyes drop to her ankle again. It really looks painful. She’s probably not lying about being in pain. I cross over to the desk and pick up the phone. “Get me 911,” I tell the switchboard.
“Yes, sir.” The operator said and in seconds I’m talking to emergency services.
“Hello, I have a workplace injury. One of my workers has been injured.”
“What is the nature of her injury?”
I cover the receiver and repeat the question to Julia.
“Well, my ankle is throbbing and my entire left side really hurts.” She tells me, in a kind of whiny voice that still is enticing – damn her.
I repeat the information to the operator. “Is she conscious?” the operator asks.
“Yes,” I lift an eyebrow even though the operator obviously can’t see me.
“Is she able to get to a medical facility on her own?”
I narrow my eyes at Julia, trying to be assessing. “Can you get yourself to a medical facility?” I ask.
She swallows, nods. From the looks of it, I’m thinking she’s lying. “How? You can’t drive.”
“I-I’ll take an Uber.”
I roll my eyes. “Ma’am, I think you need to send an ambulance,” I say into the receiver. Julia’s eyes widen and I’m thinking she’s worried about the charge. I’m not one of those oblivious millionaires. I’m aware of the struggles of young people. I enjoy the occasional avocado toast myself…
“Don’t worry,” I say to the girl. “Workman’s comp will cover it.…however,” I say with wicked thoughts, “you’ll have to work it off.”
“What?” she burst out, narrowing her eyes at me.
“We’ll work it out later. But for now, get your leg fixed.”
I turn toward the door, throwing one final glance at Julia Sparks. There’s an Instagram model waiting for me in VIP but now my mind is filled with blonde hair and a vulnerable clavicle.
Why do I want to lick her collar bone so badly?
3
Julia
I can’t believe my boss made me go to the hospital in an ambulance and then told me I would have to work it off. He must be the king of the assholes. I bet he stands in front of the mirror each day, studying his face, and congratulating himself on being the biggest bully in the playground.
It’s sad because when he first stepped into the room, well, there was something there. His dark eyes had bored into me as if they could see right through my soul. I felt an instant connection between us and my spine tingled.
Physically, he’s hot as fuck. But otherwise, he’s clearly a son of a bitch. I lay back in the ambulance as one of the EMTs checks my leg. She’s murmuring about a possible sprain and bruising.
I can’t afford to be off work for too long. Especially since I haven’t yet made my portion of the rent for this month nor enough money for mama’s drugs. Maybe I can work in the bar which doesn’t require so much walking. Or I can do some paperwork in the back office.
Damn, I don’t mean to sound so much like a Desperate Donna it’s just that…it’s hard to understand when you’re not struggling but it can just take one tiny thing going wrong and everything goes to shit.
We pull up at the hospital and there is an orderly waiting with a wheelchair. I dig out my phone and call Skylar. My eyes are watering and I think I might cry. I need to speak to someone who understands what I’m going through.
Lucky for me, she picks up on the third ring, sounding out of breath.
“Hey girl, what’s up?”
“Sorry, am I interrupting?”
“Interrupting? No. I was just on the treadmill.”
“At…” I check my phone. “2 am?”
“Yeah. I couldn’t sleep. Ayden’s in New York this week and the bed is just so big.”
“Aww, young love,” I fall into our usual banter even though I’m miserable as fuck.
“Hey, what’s the matter?” Skylar must have heard something in my voice because she sounds really concerned.
“Oh, nothing. I’m just like…in the hospital.”
“What? Why?”
“Had an accident at work,” I say as the orderly wheels me to the Emergency room.
“Are you all right?”
“Obviously not, since I’m at the hospital.”
“Which hospital are you at? I’m on the way.”
I hesitate for a moment, torn betwee
n not wanting to put Skylar out on one hand and really needing her to come. “I’m at UMC Quick Care.”
“I’m on my way.”
“Thanks, girl.”
“No problem. Hang tight okay?”
“Okay.” I heave a sigh, feeling relieved but also choked up because Skylar is such a good friend. The orderly parks me in an examination room and a nurse comes in, with forms to be filled out. I grab them, feeling my heart sink even as I cross my fingers and hope workman’s comp will cover this visit. They should.
As I finish up with the forms and put them aside, a different nurse comes in and takes my temperature…and then she’s gone again. I settle back against the pillow, knowing full well how emergency care works. It’s another fifteen minutes before a doctor appears, about the same time as Skylar arrives.
She slips into the examination room and grabs hold of my hand as the doctor examines my leg and my side, murmuring soothing words of reassurance as he does so. Skylar says nothing until the doctor is done.
“Is she okay?”
“Well, we will have to x-ray that leg and make sure there’s no fracture. It looks like a sprain but with the swelling, it’s difficult to tell. On a scale of one to ten, what is your pain levels?”
I hesitate, not sure how to answer that question. My pain level? Excruciating. How about that?
“Umm, seven?” I say instead.
“Mm. For now, we’ll give you an anti-inflammatory to reduce the swelling. Then we’ll send you down to x-ray. Is that okay with you?”
I shrug. “That’s fine.” The doctor writes some things and then disappears again. I look up at Skylar and she looks down at me.
“Hey,” we both say at the same time.
She reaches over and hugs me. We hold each other for a bit, just drawing comfort from each other. She pulls back, to look in my eyes. “What happened?”
I tell her the whole story, leaving out the part where I felt a connection with my boss.
“What a douchebag,” she says and for a minute, I’m not sure who she’s talking about. “I mean, you’re his employee. Isn’t he obligated to show some kind of concern about you getting hurt at work? You should sue.”
I give a one-shouldered shrug. “No, it was my fault for wearing those stupid heels.”
“So. He could have been nicer.” Skylar turns away, shaking her head in annoyance.
“Yep. I totally agree,” I say.
Skylar continues to shake her head while pacing. “We have to get you out of there.”
“I concur.”
She came and knelt beside me. “But first though, we have to get you through this. You’ll be okay.”
“I don’t know what I’ll tell my parents.”
“We’ll figure it out. Hey, I have some money sav—”
“No!” I can’t take Skylar’s money. She just opened a restaurant. She’s a start-up which means every penny counts.
“Julia...”
“No. I’m not taking your money.”
“Fine. Be like that. You know Ayden is a gazillionaire.” She sat back and pouted at me, which made me smile.
It’s nice to have good friends.
Right now though, I just want to go home and rest. I lie back in the bed and close my eyes, hearing the rustle of cloth as Skylar settles beside me. I lay there, waiting for the next bullshit problem from the outside world. Having Skylar by my side made me feel so much better about things.
It got me thinking about getting a serious partner of my own. Skylar is my best friend and I love her. We’re in this shit together. But she has Ayden now and I don’t want to be that awkward third wheel all the time.
For some reason, that makes my mind drift to my boss, Derek. I sigh with regret that he’s such a douchebag. Imagine if he was a nice guy; with those broad shoulders, his fathomless eyes, that beautiful head of dark hair, the smirk I don’t even think he knows about…he’s a hottie on the outside.
His insides are all rotten though.
Damn him and his perfect body.
The thought flicks through my mind – quite without my permission – that maybe I could have sex with him and then kick him to the curb. Just to taste. I’m willing to bet that he was either horrible in bed or very, very good. With an ego like he has, it’s got to be one or the other.
The nurse comes by and announces that Skylar has to get off the bed so they could take me to X-Ray. She scrambles off the bed and lets them wheel me away.
“I’ll be right here waiting babe,” she waves dramatically and I grin at her, feeling a bit loopy from the injection the nurse gave me earlier. It would be nice if I had my own man to wave me off like that.
The x-ray shows I have a hairline fracture in my ankle. Nothing life-threatening but they advise me to stay off my foot for a week.
A week without pay. Awesome. My life is so great.
They wrap me up and Skylar takes me home. She helps me up the stairs to my apartment. My mother is asleep and my dad is still at work. I hobble to my room and close the door behind me, collapsing miserably onto my bed. I stare at my phone, knowing I need to call work and let them know. It’s quite late—or early—depending on how I want to look at it. Maybe Derek is still at the hotel and I can notify him…or maybe I just wanna talk to him again?
It’s the drugs making me loopy so I’m not sure which.
I snatch up my phone and call the switchboard. “Hello. Could you transfer me to Mr. Mills’ office?”
“Who is calling, please?”
“This is Julia Sparks.”
It’s unlikely that the switchboard knows who I am but I’ve learned that if I just act confident, most people just roll with it.
“Please hold.”
I blow out a breath and lean back on the wall, listening to the elevator music playing in my ear. It takes a surprisingly short time for someone to come back on the line and I’m sure they’re gonna tell me to fuck off because Mr. Mills has no time for small fry like me.
“Hello, Julia Sparks. Still kicking?”
I swallow my spit in shock. “Uhm, what?”
I know, I’m so lame. I just wasn’t expecting to be talking to him again so soon.
“Hey, you called me. How are you doing?”
“I’m sorry. I’m a little…uh, tired. I’ve just got back from the hospital and they said I have a hairline fracture. I have to be off my feet for at least a week.”
“Serves you right for wearing those heels. What were you thinking?”
I sigh, rolling my eyes and feeling so done with this guy. “I told you why.”
“Well, that was a stupid decision. You should take better care of yourself.”
I stick my tongue out at the phone. “Yes, sir!” I’m laying the sarcasm on thick but he just acts oblivious.
“Mmm, I like, sir. What an obedient little girl you are.”
This conversation is so inappropriate for an employer and employee but its 4:30 am and I’m high on the good drugs. I don’t know what Derek’s excuse is. “Obedient? Seriously??” I ask with absolutely no pouting at all.
Derek laughs. “Aww, you’re cute when you’re trying to be defiant.”
“Are you high?” I ask and then immediately clap my hand over my mouth. Derek is my boss. He can say whatever nonsense he pleases and hope I’m not recording him. I, on the other hand, should keep my shit together.
“Maybe I’m high on hearing your voice?”
“Maybe you should work on your lines?” I slap my forehead even as I say it, cursing my runaway mouth.
“Okay. I’mma let you go, now. Get some rest. Be well and be sure to come to see me once you’re back.”
“Come see you…specifically?”
“As opposed to?” his voice is dripping with sarcasm.
“You’re so rude,” I complain without even a smidge of regret.
“So are you. We’re a match made in heaven. Bye Julia.”
“Bye jerk.”
I hang up before he can say anything e
lse. I admit, I have a thing about getting in the last word. I suspect Derek is the same. I don’t know how we got here, truly.
That conversation went south really fast. One minute he’s my absolute asshole of a boss, the next, we’re rudely flirting. I’m just gonna blame the drugs. And after I’ve had a good night’s rest, I’m calling Skylar to complain.
4
Derek
“Fuck, I seriously can’t continue this way. Everything’s getting away from me. I've got crap piling up everywhere, and I'm swamped. Something’s gotta give or else I’m gonna end up in the mental ward!"
Feeling frustrated, I rake a hand through my hair before flopping forward. My head hit my desk with a loud bang. Ayden simply chuckles in typical Ayden fashion, situating himself on the other side of the desk where he sits so that his feet are right next to my head. After a moment of that, I lift my head up, staring at Ayden with puppy dog eyes.
"Dude, this is serious! I'm miserable, help me," I whine.
"Hey, I hate to break it to you Derek, but that’s the breaks of a big city business. If you're seriously that miserable, why don’t you hire an assistant? This is your world. You can do whatever you want in it."
I mull over Ayden's words, rather displeased with myself for not coming to that conclusion on my own. It’s kind of obvious, really. I’ll hire an assistant.
Of course.
Hiring an assistant is a lot easier said than done. There are a lot of airheads who probably can’t get any other jobs and many people that are pretentious dicks who think this job is their gateway into the company. I ought to admire their enthusiasm but honestly, it’s annoying.
My mind goes to Julia and her fractured leg. She can’t work on the floor for a while and obviously, I need more help.
The only logical step is for her to be my assistant, assuming she’s qualified. I mean yeah, my secretary Francine might be a better choice. She’s smart, she knows me and what I need and most importantly - I don’t want to fuck her.
But I can be a professional. I can do this. I pick up the phone and ask Francine to send Julia to me as soon as she returns to work.
