Amelie gave me a knowing look. “Don’t let her get to you. She’s just mad because she was demoted last month from legal assistant to office receptionist, and they hired you to fill her position.”
“Well, that certainly would explain it,” I said, nodding in understanding.
“I’m sorry about your shirt,” said Amelie. “I hope that stain will come out. I usually have some Shout wipes in my desk, but I gave Mr. Morrison my last one the other day.” I could see that Amelie was the mama-bear type.
“It’s okay. I’m sure there are worse things that could happen on someone’s first day than walking around with a giant coffee stain on your shirt,” I reasoned, trying to keep a positive attitude.
“You want to go grab some lunch?” she offered.
Smiling, I accepted, thankful for at least one friendly person in my new work setting. Certainly everything else had gone less-than-stellar so far.
* * *
That afternoon, Amelie introduced me to the one other legal assistant on the floor, Jerry, and to the other attorneys as they arrived. Everyone, except for Lisette, was at least pleasant. I hoped she would come around, but I knew that I would have to watch my back in the meantime.
Once I returned after lunch, I had a chance to arrange my desk and get my things set up. I pulled out the framed picture I had tucked inside my bag alongside my romance novel. I sat the frame on the desk next to my computer, proudly displaying my younger sister, Jada, my Uncle Dante, and myself from a charity event we had attended last year.
The picture showed us standing closely together, smiling, Jada and I dressed in beautiful evening gowns and jewelry we had pulled out just for the occasion, and Uncle Dante in his black, Armani suit.
The rest of the afternoon passed with a few challenges of its own. I had called some clients for Mr. Vandergild to schedule meetings with them, but had to call them back to reschedule after realizing they had been double-booked.
Just about the time I started questioning my own competency, it was finally time for everyone to clock out and go home for the day. I stayed after, finishing up a few of the minor tasks that Mr. Vandergild had assigned to me. I wanted to get a head-start for the following day, since I knew it would take some time to build up the speed that would come with being familiar with the job.
At nearly six o’clock that evening, feeling tired and a little crestfallen, I grabbed my bag and headed for the elevator. I made it all the way down to the ground-floor before I realized I had left my phone in my desk.
Could my day possibly get any worse?
I headed back up the elevator to get it. It was quiet on the way back up, and I thought that the building must have been full of nine-to-fivers. Only a few people remained, even in the lobby, and no one was on the seventeenth floor when I got back up there to retrieve my forgotten item.
After grabbing my phone and heading back to leave, the elevator transported me down once again as I admired the craftsmanship from inside the spacious car. Whoever designed the interior of this building had some serious skills, I thought.
Once the doors opened, I began my trek across the atrium toward the exit while I absentmindedly checked for any messages I might have missed on my phone. Abruptly, I ran into a solid figure in an expensive suit.
“Excuse me, I’m so sorry, sir!” Flustered, I looked up at the face of a tall, powerhouse of a man, and suddenly it felt like the ground fell out from beneath me. This had to be the most painstakingly beautiful man I thought I had ever seen.
At first glance, he was gorgeous. The square of his jaw, the clean-cut but perfectly messy hair, the broad chest and shoulders, and flat stomach beneath an expensive suit, all came together to create a picture-perfect human.
He did not say a word, but smiled down at me with dark, mysterious, blue-green eyes, his mouth slightly open as if he were amused, or maybe assessing my thoughtlessness.
“I… I’m terribly sorry. I should have been looking where I was going. Please, accept my apology,” I stammered.
“Apology accepted, Miss…” He was asking for my name.
“Fae. Perla Fae,” I answered, feeling the heat rise to my face, sure that I was blushing profusely. I didn’t even reach out my hand to him for a handshake. My thoughts were so muddled, I was surprised I even remembered my own name.
“Well, Miss Fae, I hope you find where you were going,” he said, his eyes intense as his stare burned through me. He stood there confidently with a smirk of amusement.
Mortified, I remembered the stain so conspicuously evident on my blouse, and realized what a complete and utter, clumsy fool I must have looked like. My flight response took over. I turned and briskly walked away in the direction of the exit without another word to the stunning Adonis of a man.
Once I got outside and down to the bus stop, I allowed myself to pause and take a deep breath. What was that back there? Since when did I lose all common sense around a man?
I would blame the humiliation on my thoughtlessness of not looking where I was going and running right into someone, but the moment I had looked up into his masculine features, it was like I had become a blithering idiot.
Sure, it had been months since I’d felt the touch of a man, and there was an undeniable physical attraction to the guy that I hadn’t experienced in as much time or, to that extent, ever. But it didn’t matter. I could tell he was the rich sort, which I was not impressed with, and for good reason. I held a fiery resentment toward wealth and the elite, and this man was the epitome of both.
The fact was, Jada and I had a sizable trust fund from our parents’ estate, but because of our vehemence of that money and what it represented to us, we both only used enough of it to get by on, opting instead for a modest lifestyle. It paid for our apartment in a safe, monitored building, and we donated large sums each year to charities, since Uncle Dante was against us donating it all, but everything else, we earned for ourselves.
Needless to say, our lives could have been very different under better circumstances. However, with circumstances as they were, we made the choice to make it on our own. We made it work, because we wanted nothing to do with the blood money collecting dust and interest in a bank downtown.
In a roundabout way, these choices, among other things, had led me to this job here with Fitzgerald, Vandergild, and Morrison, Attorneys at Law, located in the beautifully and architecturally ornate Maddox Tower in Downtown Dallas. It was a modest position, but an honest one, and it would allow me to work with families who might be going through situations similar to what Jada and I had experienced.
It was at least a far reach from the upper-class society my parents were a part of. Uncle Dante still rubbed elbows with that crowd, which meant that Jada and I were still subjected at times to the people who never failed to mention our parents at the few functions we still attended. Those reminders, I also resented with a fiery passion and could do without.
At any rate, I had no doubt that the man I had stumbled into was one who fell into that upper-class society. If the fine quality fabric or tailored fit of his suit didn’t give it away, or the subtle accents of masculine jewelry he wore – cufflinks, Cartier watch, or the platinum ring on his right hand ring finger – wasn’t an indication, it would still have been evident in the confident and powerful way he carried himself.
Sure, I would admit he was one fine specimen of a man, and it was no secret that I was long overdue for a little romance. Any other time, I’d have been a total sucker for that stunning face, those enthralling eyes, and his oh-so-kissable lips. If I had met him out at, say, a Ranger’s game, wearing a faded pair of jeans and a baseball tee-shirt, I’d be all over that.
As it was, the money sign on his forehead was like a red, flashing, warning signal. No matter how devastatingly beautiful the man was, or how he affected my heart-rate and befuddled my mind at just the sight and proximity of him, I wanted nothing to do with him. No matter what my treacherous body might have had to say.
TWO
/> Sticky Situation
Jada and I shared a two bedroom apartment in a high-rise apartment-building just a short bus ride away from Maddox Tower. When I got home that evening, I greeted Alex, the night clerk who manned the front desk on the ground-floor, before taking the elevator up to my twelfth-floor home-sweet-home.
“Perly-girly!” Jada greeted me with a smile as soon as I entered. It had been her nickname for me since we were kids. I observed her cooking a nice dinner for us.
“Jada-Lou,” I replied morosely. Her middle name was really Marie, but it was my typical response to Perly-girly.
“So? How was the first day?” Jada inquired as she suspiciously eyed the huge coffee-stain covering my blouse.
I sighed as I kicked off my heels. “Well, not everyone was terrible,” I told her as I grabbed a glass from the cabinet that I poured Riesling into before sitting down in a chair at our modestly-sized kitchen table.
“That sounds promising.” Jada was always so optimistic and polite. She wasn’t going to bring up the reason I needed a new job to begin with.
“It’s a fresh start. If nothing else, we both know I needed at least that much.” I tried to stifle a sigh as the dull ache in my chest throbbed at the thought of what I was trying to leave behind.
New beginnings meant that something else had come to an end, and I’d certainly had my fair share of new beginnings over the past several years. This round stemmed from the disaster of a break-up with Grayson Mitchell.
Grayson and I had met while working together at my previous job. I had been a court reporter for the Dallas County District Court while taking night classes to become a paralegal. Grayson was a sheriff’s deputy who served as a bailiff in the same courtroom once or twice a week. Even on days he didn’t bailiff, I would see him around the courthouse. Grayson had played a key role in getting me to go after my dream of becoming a lawyer someday, and I had started out trying to get my foot in the door by taking night classes as a paralegal.
We had been together for the better part of a year, prior to our split. When I thought our relationship was moving in a more serious direction, he was moving in a whole other direction with some big-boobed coffee shop barista. It was a stain on my memory to go with the one presently on my shirt. God, I hated coffee.
We had been so happy up to that point. I hadn’t seen it coming until I had walked in on them.
Needless to say, I had been devastated. I could not take going to work and having to see him every day after that. It hurt so much seeing him at every turn, constantly being reminded of his betrayal and our future that had vanished in a cloud of smoke. It was time for a change.
I had applied to just about every place in Dallas that would consider my experience, but whether it was the timing, the lagging economy, or just my poor luck, no job offers were coming in. Every month that had passed before I had finally been hired on at Fitzgerald, Vandergild, and Morrison was killing off a part of my soul, every time I had to share a courtroom with him or pass him in a hallway. There was no way I could go back to my old job and have to keep facing Grayson. For that, I could put up with Lisette and whatever rigmarole she could throw at me.
Jada and I ate her delicious dinner while we talked about our day. She loved to cook, which worked out well for me, since I loved to eat. Afterwards, we cleared our dishes and let our food settle. Then we both walked down to the ground-floor fitness center to do a workout.
When I turned in for the evening, I lay in my bed unable to sleep, recalling the events of the day. Between Lisette’s lousy attitude and my own incompetence and clumsiness, I found myself dreading what tomorrow had in store.
Then my thoughts turned to Amelie and her friendly helpfulness. Mr. Vandergild wasn’t so bad, either.
I could do this, I thought. Starting over was hard, and doing it alone with just Jada and me was even harder. Yes, we were kind of broke, but this was a choice we had made. And yes, I was more than a little bit lonely, but God only knew it wasn’t the first time in my life I had felt alone in the world.
I was determined to make it, come hell or high water.
* * *
The next morning, I arrived to work about a half-hour early in an attempt to avoid Lisette. I went to make the coffee in our adequately-stocked lounge area. I refused to drink the stuff, but it was a nice gesture for my coworkers. I grabbed a bagel and some hot tea with honey, instead, and took it back to my desk.
Of course, Lisette was the next in the office to arrive, so my avoidance was futile. I thought I would try to start things off right with her that morning, so I decided I’d greet her.
“Good morning,” I called to her from my desk.
She looked up and made eye contact with me, then gave me a scowl before looking back down at her phone.
All right, then.
Soon, the others came trickling in one by one, grabbing their coffee and pastries before heading to their offices and workstations. It appeared that Amelie hadn’t made it in that day, and Jerry confirmed that she had called in sick that morning. At that news, I felt my mood fall, knowing she was the only buffer I had between Lisette and her snide looks and comments. I’d just have to suck it up and put my big-girl panties on.
I went in to greet Mr. Vandergild and get a list of the tasks he wanted me to work on for that day. I was chugging along when about midway through the morning, he came rushing out of his office in a panic.
“Perla, I need you to call a meeting for the O’Malley-Gallagher case for this afternoon. Get a proposal typed up. Here are my notes,” he slammed a piece of paper down on my desk. “I need this by one o’clock today to review it before the meeting.” At that, he was off and headed toward the elevator.
I looked down at his notes, barely being able to read his writing. I wracked my brain trying to remember how to draft a proposal. I called Mr. O’Malley and the attorney representing Ms. Gallagher, scheduling them as Mr. Vandergild had requested. Then I set to work on drafting the document as best I could.
By lunchtime, I was starving, but I still had a significant amount left to finish on the form I had prepared. I knew I wouldn’t have time to take a full lunch that day, so I decided instead to take a short break to run down to the first floor and grab some food. I could bring it back to my desk and eat while I continued to work.
Once on the first floor, I went to a little sandwich shop set near an exit leading out to a courtyard area. I ordered a cup of soup and a half sandwich, to go.
Heading back to the elevator, I pressed the call button and waited. Once it opened, I began to inch forward to enter when a man came barreling out, running into me. I gasped as the hot, red soup splattered across the front of my dress, and the remainder of my food went sprawling to the floor.
Great. Just great!
Pulling my dress away from my skin as best I could, I looked up to see who had bowled into to me. There, in all his glory, stood the handsome stranger I had run into just the evening before.
“My God, I’m terribly sorry. Please, let me help you with that.” His voice was deep and masculine. He pulled the colored cloth from his suit pocket and handed it to me.
Seriously? I needed a little more than a flimsy little handkerchief to clean this mess off of me, and I was livid that I had yet another huge stain across the front of my clothes for the second day in a row. It was only my second day on the job, for goodness’ sake!
“Thanks,” I grumbled as I walked past him to escape. I moved forward just in time for the elevator doors to close in my face and take off without me.
Heaving a sigh, I pressed the elevator button again before turning back around.
“I’m really sorry, but…” He paused. “I really have somewhere I need to be,” he explained.
I lifted my hand in the direction of the exit, giving him my permission to take his leave. Could this be any more humiliating? At that moment, the second elevator door opened, and Lisette came walking out. She looked me up and down, noticing the soup stain that disc
olored my clothes, and gave a malevolent laugh before continuing on her way.
I looked from Lisette to the stranger who still stood frozen in place with a confused expression. It was like he was watching a train-wreck. Humiliation colored my cheeks, and before the elevator could get away from me a second time, I quickly walked inside, holding the Door Close button and praying for a quick escape.
I wasn’t alone in the elevator, but I didn’t turn around to see if the other passengers were staring at me. I could feel their eyes boring into the back of my head. It had to be the longest elevator ride in the history of elevators as it stopped on twelve of the sixteen floors between my humiliation and the consolation of my desk.
It wasn’t until I got to the seventeenth floor restroom to clean myself up that I noticed I still held the handkerchief the handsome stranger had handed me. I hoped he wasn’t too attached to that.
Fuming, I wiped my clothes off with a damp paper towel before quickly getting back to my desk to finish the documents Mr. Vandergild would soon be requesting from me. Trying to focus was nearly impossible at that point, and it took every ounce of willpower I had to center my attention.
After about thirty minutes, I heard the elevator ding that indicated someone was coming onto the floor. I still had about fifteen minutes before Mr. Vandergild was expected to return, and I silently prayed it wasn’t him yet.
I looked up to see a young woman walking in my direction carrying a garment bag and a food tray. My eyes were wide as she approached my desk.
“Are you Miss Fae?” she asked politely.
“Y-yes. Can I help you?” I stuttered, confused.
“These are for you, compliments of Maddox Industries.” She sat the tray on the desk in front of me and handed me the garment bag.
Tragedy and Desire: An Adult Romance Page 2
