by Anne Jolin
“He’s dangerous, Beth,” she whispers softly.
I look her dead in the eyes. “Do you think I don’t know that?” I try not to raise my voice so the other girls don’t hear us. “I did everything I was supposed to do and he still got off scot-free.” I run my hands through my blond hair in frustration.
The night I woke up in the hospital, the cops were already there. I recounted the night’s horrors to them and they suggested that I press charges. I did so immediately. Kyle was then indicted on assault, but it took less than a day for him to be released. Kyle was rich. His family was influential and he had friends in all the right places. He paid a healthy penalty, and it was required as a condition of his probation that he have no contact with the victim. I am the victim.
I felt safe under those terms the first few weeks following the assault, but that safety was dissipating quickly. In the last week, I’ve started receiving phone calls and text messages from unknown numbers at least once or twice a day. I tried taking it to the police, but all they were able to do was make a weak report. There is no evidence that he is behind the text messages, no proof. They also deemed the messages nonthreatening.
“I know. I just want you to be careful. Okay?” Hannah says, sliding her hand up and down my back.
I muster up what bravado I have left and smile at her. “I will, Han. It’s not going to rule my life. He just misses his shiny toy. He’ll move on.”
“You’re strong. I’m proud of you.” Hannah kisses me on the cheek, and I suppress more tears from falling.
“I love you, Han,” I say as she picks up an apple from the counter.
“Love you too, Beth.” She grins. “Now I have to pee”—she rolls her eyes setting the apple back down—“again!”
I am watching my sister waddle off towards the bathroom when Lennon shouts, “Hurry up! It’s about to start!”
“Calm your tits, John. Good lord. It’s not like we all haven’t seen it a thousand times,” I tease her, picking up the beer bottles.
“But she’s always the meanest in the beginning. It’s the best part!” Lennon whines.
I drop back down onto the cushion beside her, and she grabs the bottle from my hands. Anne Hathaway and Meryl Streep appear on the screen as we settle in to watch The Devil Wears Prada.
Tomorrow is Monday. The first day at my new job and the first day I make a step towards getting my independence back.
After the movie, once everyone has left, I plug in my phone on my nightstand. As I do, another text message comes through, lighting up the screen. I see the message from earlier.
Unknown Number: I’m sorry, doll. I miss you.
But it’s the newest message that chills my bones.
Unknown Number: I want what’s mine, Betty. Don’t think I won’t take it.
I set my alarm and lay my head down onto the pillow.
I’m curious which man will plague my dreams tonight. The silver-tongued villain I was tricked into loving or the dark-haired Prince Charming. My savior. My Cinderella.
I hope it is the latter.
“FUCK!” I CURSE, slamming the palms of my hands onto the steering wheel of my blue Mazda. I’m going to be late.
The commute into the city is a bitch. It takes almost an hour to get from Rock Falls to Vancouver—and that’s without traffic. Thankfully, I’ve been to the building to do my interview because, otherwise, I’d be in big trouble. Navigating city streets is absolutely not my strong suit. I get lost in a heartbeat. In fact, I did the day of my interview.
I pull into the underground parkade of the massive, shiny building and slam my car, four-leaf clover stickers and all, into the closest parking space. It happens to be right next to the elevator. I thank my lucky stars, grab my purse, and press the call button. When the doors open, I hit the number for twenty-fifth floor and wait for the doors to close again.
I take the time to adjust myself in the reflection of the doors, smoothing out the lines of my dark-grey pencil skirt, which lands at my knees, and try to settle my breathing. I hate being late. My white cashmere sweater flatters my smaller chest and tucks into the skirt. I finished it off with a belt and some of my favorite sky-high heels.
I gave away everything Kyle had bought me, sending bags of clothes, shoes, and jewelry to the thrift store. This outfit is all mine. I own it. Just like I own myself again. Beth is back.
The doors open to the stunning foyer of Blake and Bennett Law, and I smile brightly when I see Carol passing through a set of glass doors.
“Miss Rhodes, right on time.” She grins, handing off some paperwork to the younger girl at the reception desk.
“Please call me Beth, Carol,” I tell her, reaching out to shake her hand. “I’m sorry I’m late.” I refrain from saying that it was because of traffic. Excuses don’t change the fact that I am, indeed, five minutes late.
“Oh hush.” She waves her hand in the air. “It’s your first day. I imagine coming from Rock Falls wasn’t the easiest commute.”
I nod my head.
“Let’s drop your things off at your desk, and then I’ll give you a tour, shall we? Mr. Bennett won’t be in for another hour.”
“That sounds perfect,” I say, following her back through the large glass doors.
Carol reminds me a lot of Donna from Suits. She’s a little older—my best guess would be early forties—but she has the same fiery personality.
We pass a few glass board rooms and smaller offices before the floor plan opens up. She leads me to the desk farthest to the right.
“This is your desk”—she points to the glass office behind me—“and this is Mr. Bennett’s office.”
I try to school my expression as I take it in. It’s huge. Every wall in the office is glass, and the view extends out to look over Stanley Park and the harbour. There’s a large desk near the windows, a black leather conversational set near the wall, and a door adjacent to both which I imagine leads to a bathroom.
That has real walls at least. It must be written all over my face that office seems to lack, well, privacy for someone so important because Carol speaks without me asking.
“The glass offices were designed to make the entire space look larger.”
I nod, thinking that Wyatt must have loved shooting this place. It’s really very chic for a law building. Especially this corner office. To quote my dear cousin, it’s “to die for.”
“The glass walls of these particular offices are equipped with a frosting function,” she notes.
I must look like I have no idea what that is because she laughs.
“Come on. I’ll show you.”
She steps into the office no more than a foot or so and flicks a switch. It looks exactly like a light switch, but I’m mesmerized as all the glass, except what’s facing outside, frosts over. You can no longer see through any of it.
“Wow,” I say in awe.
She flicks the switch again, returning the walls to their see-though state. “It’s not too shabby. This allows the partners privacy for meetings, et cetera.”
I nod my head again. I’m starting to feel like one of those bobbleheads, but I know I can be a bit of a waterfall, so I’m trying to keep the talking at bay.
“I usually keep my purse here.” She pulls out the bottom drawer of the desk. “And if you have a coat or anything in the winter, there’s a closet in the lunchroom.”
I drop my purse in the open drawer. “Wonderful. Thank you.”
She starts to walk again, so I fall into step beside her. When we reach an office across the hall, she stops. It looks exactly like mine, just mirrored to fit the opposite side of the building.
“This office belongs to Mr. Blake’s son. He’s a junior partner.” Just as she finishes speaking a petite brunette girl around my age comes out of the large office. “And this is Nikki Drake, his assistant.”
“Hi.” She smiles shyly, reaching her hand out to me. “Are you Mr. Bennett’s new assistant?”
“I am.” I nod, shaking he
r hand. “Beth Rhodes. Nice to meet you.”
Our conversation is interrupted by a playful male voice. “Ladies, to what do I owe the pleasure of you all mingling outside my office?”
I turn in time to see the owner of the voice walking towards us. He’s incredibly good-looking. Dirty-blond hair styled perfectly, bright, blue eyes, and a muscular body draped in what looks like a custom-fitted suit. His smile is infectious, and I can’t help but grin back at him.
“Beth Rhodes, meet Mr. Blake,” Carol says, shaking her head at the younger man, who looks to be early thirties or so.
“Carol,” he scolds her playfully. “My father is Mr. Blake.” She laughs as he continues. “You can call me Ellis.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ellis,” I say, reaching out to shake his hand.
He scoops it up, bringing it to his lips. “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Rhodes,” he teases before kissing the back of my hand.
I suppress a giggle at his overtly flirty behavior. It’s a boyish charm and I don’t find it creepy in the slightest. “Beth,” I correct him as he returns my hand back to me.
“Carol. Ravishing as always,” he croons, kissing her on the cheek in a motherly way.
She swats his hand away despite the fact that she’s grinning at him. “Troublemaker,” she scolds.
“The finest.” He winks, turning his attention away. “That’s a beautiful dress, Nikki,” he tells her before disappearing into his office.
“All right. We don’t have all day. Let’s go,” Carol says, picking up her swift pace again as we leave a blushing Nikki Drake sitting at her desk.
We pass a set of smaller offices, which she tells me belong to the paralegals, and other various positions throughout the firm. There’s also the breakroom that houses quite possibly the fanciest coffee machine I’ve ever seen in my entire life as well as a fully functioning kitchen. We’ve almost been across the entire floor when we reach another set of matching offices, which are slightly larger than the other two. One looks empty, no personal things or books on any of the shelves, and the other houses an older gentleman sitting behind the desk.
“This is me,” Carol says, waving towards the desk outside.
The man inside the office stands, making his way towards us. “Good morning, Carol.” He smiles affectionately at her.
“Mr. Blake, this is Beth Rhodes, Mr. Bennett’s new assistant,” she tells him, motioning towards me.
“We’re excited to have you on the team, Beth. You can call me Conrad,” he says, shaking my hand. He looks just like an older version of his son, only now there is grey in his blond hair.
I smile at him. “I’m excited to be here.” Then I straighten my back. Something about his presence just demands respect despite the fact that he’s incredibly kind.
“If Braxton gives you too much trouble, you come see me.” He grins.
I have no idea what he’s talking about, but before I can ask, he disappears into his office again.
Carol finishes up our tour by showing me where the copy room is and how to use everything. By the time we are done, it’s been a little over forty-five minutes. Then she deposits me back into my desk.
“Mr. Bennett should be in soon. He’ll be able to give you further direction on what he’d like you to do then.”
“Thank you for showing me around,” I say, following her instructions to log into my computer.
She winks. “Don’t thank me yet, honey. You haven’t met your boss yet,” she quips before sashaying her way back to Conrad’s office.
I’m starting to feel like maybe there’s a reason this position was open in the first place. I shrug off the weird feeling and settle into my desk, making sure to locate where everything is.
Mr. Bennett can’t be that bad. Can he? After all, he’s just a man.
IT’S BEEN TWENTY minutes since Carol left me at my desk and my boss is still a no-show. I look up and smile at Nikki across the hall when she points towards her computer. I stare at her, confused until an intra-office IM pops up on my screen.
ND – He’s usually grumpy when he’s late and likes to have black coffee on his desk when he gets in.
I purse my lips at the thought of being an errand girl to someone who can’t even show up on time to the company they own, but I suck it up.
BR – Thanks for the heads-up! ☺
I type out the reply before getting up and making my way to the breakroom. It doesn’t take me long to whip up a cup of black coffee once I finally figure out how to use the spaceship that is this coffee machine. I take an extra few minutes to make myself a double-double before scooting back to my desk.
I’m not shocked to find that my elusive boss has yet to arrive. After placing my cup of coffee on the desk, I grab the newspaper that was just dropped off with the mail and head into the office behind me. I turn on the lights and walk over the large, black desk, searching for a coaster to rest the coffee cup on. It takes me a minute before I finally locate a small stack of them by the coffee table. Looking around it’s impossible to miss that the office radiates masculinity and power. Everything is black except for the two red chairs across from his desk. I pass by them, turning my back to the door as I lean over slightly, setting the coffee and newspaper in the centre of the desk.
“What are you doing in here?” a thick, deep voice bellows behind me.
The abrupt sound startles me, and in my haste to turn around, I knock over his name plate. I bend over, snatching the runaway item from the floor and placing it back on the desk. Then I take a moment to collect myself, plastering on my best smile as I spinaround.
“What the fuck?!” he roars.
I’m speechless. It takes me longer to recognize him in the daylight, but it’s him. Blinking furiously, I take him in. He doesn’t look the same. His hard body is encased in a black Armani suit that hides all the tattoos I know he has. The only thing that is same as that night is his messy, jet-black hair and wild, grey eyes. Without my consent, my entire body reacts to his. It’s a good thing my ribs are in a cage or my heart would be breaking free, bursting from my chest.
My Cinderella Man.
I trail my eyes back up over his body, and when I reach his eyes, I’m startled. They are a stormy grey, like I imagine the sky looks right before a hurricane, and he looks righteously pissed.
“How the fuck did you find me?” he seethes, stalking towards me.
I narrow my eyes. “What do you mean how did I find you? I work here,” I snap.
I don’t know what I expected if I ever saw him again, but I certainly didn’t expect him to look like he hates me.
“No. I work here.” He points to the desk angrily.
My mouth drops open and I’m stunned speechless again for the second time in less than a minute. “What’s your name?” I ask.
He growls, picking up the name plate I dropped earlier. “You’re in my office.”
The attitude he’s giving me is really starting to piss me off. I didn’t do anything wrong. Before I can voice my opinion though, someone sticks their head in the door.
“Ah. Brax,” Ellis says. “I see you’ve met your lovely new assistant.”
I feel Cinderella’s glare burning into the side of my head and turn to see his nostrils flare.
“Assistant?” He grits out between clenched teeth. He looks like he’s visibly trying to stay calm in the presence of the junior partner.
“You’re a lucky asshole, Brax.” Ellis winks, knocking on the door twice before retreating. “Be nice.”
I’m still glaring up into dark-grey eyes when he snaps again. “This isn’t going to work. Get your shit. We’ll pay you severance,” he snarled, pointing towards the door.
“Excuse me?” I hiss.
“You heard me. I can’t have you here.”
I poke him hard in the chest. “What exactly is your problem, Cinderella?” I seethe. Apparently, my dark saviour is a royal prick.
Something in his eyes becomes unhinged. Panicked. He stal
ks towards the office door, slamming it closed before flicking the switch to frost the glass. Resting his hands on the wall and I can see his body heave as he sucks in slow, calming breaths. What the fuck? He still doesn’t answer and my irritation soars through the roof.
“I said. What exactly is your fucking problem, Cinderella?”
He moves so fast that I stumble backwards, catching myself on the red chair. “That’s exactly the reason you can’t be here.” He’s visibly shaking while he talks. “I’ll pay you whatever you want, but you need to leave. Now.”
“I’m not—”
He cuts me off. “You’re fired. Get out.”
There’s that moment. Every girl has them. When you know you’re about to act completely crazy but you consciously choose to ignore that sane part of your brain. Yeah, well… This is one of those moments.
“Listen here, you pre-Madonna, entitled jackass!” I hiss, crowding his personal space. “I don’t know what your fucking problem with me is. You didn’t seem to have one when you dropped me off at the goddamn hospital less than a month ago.” My chest is heaving with anger when I see his eyes soften at the mention of that night, but my tirade is already rolling, so I choose to ignore it. “I don’t know why I expected you to be some half-decent human being and not some power-hungry asshole who likes to pummel people for money, but that’s a moot point now. I need this job and you’re not going to fire me. You want me to keep your dirty little brawling secret? Fine. But you’ll pay a price for it, and that price is my job!” My finger is starting to hurt from jabbing it into his rock-hard chest, so I relieve it from its duty, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Let me get this straight. You’re bribing me for your job? You’re bribing a lawyer?” he asks, his eyebrows raised though he looks no less disgruntled.
I consider the consequences for a moment before nodding briskly. “Yes. That’s exactly what I’m doing.”
He looks completely baffled by my behavior. I suppose a girl who lets a man hit her is supposed to be quiet and timid. Well, not me. Hell hath no fury and all that shit.
