Once the elevator stopped on the fifth floor and everyone shuffled out, she pushed the button, relieved and yet brokenhearted that Trent hadn’t stood at the elevator doors, desperate to call her back. In the past, when he’d occasionally channeled his father, he would always regret his outburst and apologize soon after.
She didn’t expect an apology this time. He’d spoken from heartfelt rage. Her mind replayed his words. She’d crossed a line. He’d told Chris to sit back down and she’d told the boy to go, overriding his order. Normally, she would’ve taken Trent aside, explained why she thought allowing Chris to take the test seemed the better path, but she had to act at once. If he didn’t show up on time, the professor might’ve denied him admission.
While Chris had a lot to answer for, she didn’t believe making him sit at his desk would accomplish anything other than destroying his future.
So I destroyed my career instead. Way to go.
She wished her mind would just shut up. She felt bad enough without facing the consequences of her action. Tears rained upon her shoes.
When the elevator opened to the lobby, she faced another mob of worthless employees wishing to return to their desks. No way in hell would she take another trip up in this damn elevator. This time she’d fight her way out even if she had to kill someone.
“Coming through!” she growled and elbowed her way out, ignoring the chorus of curses.
With head down, she pushed forward, hoping no one would see her reddened eyes. When she reached the sliding door, she stomped on the floor, waiting in impatience as the right panel slowly opened. An angry slash of red smeared across the glass above her head. How symbolic of her day. When the door finally opened, she stormed outside and ran into some poor man.
“Sorry,” she muttered and turned right and headed down the sidewalk, growling whenever people didn’t get out of her way. Why, just because of her diminutive height, did everyone think she never deserved the right-of-way? Why did she always have to step aside?
Well, not today. She’d just lost her job and her best friend; she refused to yield her right-of-way, too.
I just called Trent my best friend?
How pathetic! Who makes their boss their best friend? Only someone with no friends, that’s who.
But where would she have found a friend? She did nothing but work, sleep, and commute. It’s not as if she could find a social life during her train ride.
Train ride.
She came to an abrupt halt, causing people to crash into her back and curse. She returned their curses, edged into a door pocket and turned into the corner so she could open her purse without being robbed.
Or not.
Fear gripped her as someone moved close against her back.
“I have a gun, and given how pissed off I am, I will use it,” she warned.
“Strong words said with conviction. If I’d been a robber, I’d either stab you fatally in the back or run like hell.”
Recognizing the voice, she breathed out in relief and turned to Sam. “What are you doing here?”
An adorable grin spread on his face. “Trying to figure out what you’re doing. Have you ever considered roller derby as a pastime?”
“I don’t have pastimes.” Her face puckered as she realized she’d have time to take up one now.
“Hey.” With a voice full of worry, he stepped closer to her, giving her the choice to press against his warm chest or the grimy black stone that stank of urine. She chose Sam.
“Come on,” he said as he led her across the sidewalk toward Trent’s limo.
She stopped like a mule. “No, I’m not getting in his car.”
“Okay.” Sam opened the front door. “This part’s mine.”
“You think so, but one day he’ll fire you and then see whose car it is.”
“He who has the keys, possesses the car.” Sam gently shoved her in and closed the door.
She tried to get out while he rushed to his side, but her door wouldn’t open. The next moment he slid inside and pulled the car into traffic. “Where would you like to go?”
“Home, but my monthly transit pass is buried somewhere in my two feet of mail, and my credit cards are maxed out because Trent insisted I buy this stupid suit today so I could up-sell an unhappy customer and then convince the best head hunter in this city to help us find a new staff.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “And what’s my reward for all my hard work? He fired me.”
The limo leapt a full foot to the right before Sam got it under control. “Are you sure?”
She nodded. “He told me to leave and return when hell freezes over.”
“What’d ya do?”
His question earned him a glare. Why did he assume she was at fault?
He grimaced. “I’m not saying a sane person would think whatever you did was ‘wrong’. Only, you had to do something really hurtful to Trent for such a response, because hands down, you’re his favorite person in the world.”
His words made her cry even harder. “I thought him my best friend.”
“So what happened?”
She had no idea. Yesterday had been a day of transformation. She’d seen Trent as a better man than she’d ever imagined. And despite his horrible friend, a part of her had hoped they might become partners, both at work and personally. Even today, he’d been so proud of her handling of the chair fiasco…He’d tugged her hair... Everything had been like a fairy tale until she countermanded one order to save a kid from having his life ruined. Just like that, her Prince Charming turned into a fire-breathing dragon. She stared out the window, fighting back a burst of tears.
She needed the peace of her home to figure out what to do. Should she wait until Trent calmed and explain her actions, or should she just thank God she’d found out that a demon hid beneath the wonderful man she’d fallen in love with.
Damn it! Why was he so wonderful yesterday and this morning? If he’d screamed at me at the airport, I would have quit…might have quit. But what would he do without me? What will he do? He needs me.
“Can you just take me home?”
“Now? When half of New Jersey wants to drive home? No. But I’ll take you to my favorite bar and you can tell me what happened. Then once the traffic lightens, I’ll drive you home.”
She sniffled. “Is there any chance of Trent coming to this bar?”
“None whatsoever.”
“Then let’s go there.”
He smiled.
They had just crossed into Brooklyn when Sam’s phone rang. “Don’t make a sound,” he warned and engaged the call. “Yes, Master Trent? Nope. Still looking. I’ve covered the mostly likely paths she might have taken to the train station. No sign of her, but I’m parking the car so I can go into Penn Station and check the NJ transit lobby…Good point, I’ll lurk outside the bathroom.”
Sam rolled his eyes at whatever Trent replied. “I’ll bribe some nice motherly-looking woman to do that….Yeah, but remember, my phone won’t work in there. I’ll call you when I come out.”
He handed her the phone.
She shook her head in panic. Nothing good would come of talking to Trent right now. She needed to calm down, evaluate what had happened, and figure out what outcome she wanted before she spoke to her boss…former boss. Her current anger and sense of betrayal impeded all rational thought on the matter.
“He’s gone. Would you turn it off while I drive? It’s against the law to drive and talk, not that Master Trent cares if I get tickets. I’ve tried to explain money doesn’t make my ticket troubles go away. They come with points, and three tickets could result in me losing my license. And then where would Master Trent be?”
No doubt, he’d be furious and fire poor Sam. “You should just ignore him if you’re driving.”
“Master Trent gets terribly cranky if ignored.”
A painful huff erupted from her chest. “You should see what happens if you override him.”
He pulled into a half-full parking lot and
pulled his limo in a slot with a sign declaring, “Reserved for Master Trent’s Driver.”
Her panic attack returned. “I thought you said Trent never comes here.”
Sam laughed. “Do you think I’d dare put up that sign if there was any chance he’d show up?”
He got out, and she tried to do the same, but the door still wouldn’t open. A second later, he opened it from the outside and assisted her out.
“I don’t like not being able to open my own door.”
He chucked her beneath the chin. “Ah, your middle-class independence.” He handed her the keys. “When we return, you can assist me in and out of the car.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You better not be drunk when we leave here, because I only weigh eighty pounds, and I can tell you from experience, I am terrible assistance for tall drunk men.”
Her warning resulted in a genuine smile stretching from ear to ear. “When you tire of talking about Trent, I’d like to hear the story behind that comment.”
“I’m done with Trent. He fired me and wants nothing more to do with me.”
Sam slipped his arm around her shoulder. “I still want to hear about your firing, but tell me the drunken tall man story first.”
When they entered the bar, everyone inside yelled “Sammy” in unison.
He flew them the bird and smiled at her. “Don’t ever call me Sammy.”
He led her to a booth in the very back and slid in beside her instead of sitting on the opposite bench. She frowned at his forwardness.
He must have noticed because he leaned in and whispered, “I’m sitting here for two reasons. First, if I don’t, these guys will discover a great need to talk to me and sit beside you while they chat. Some of them don’t bathe but once a week.”
She managed a one-breath chuckle. “And what’s the second reason.
“I need to keep an eye on them. This is not a group to turn your back on.”
“I thought they were your friends.”
“They are. But they love to prank.”
The men did seem prone to arm punches, beer spewing, and bar nut battles. “They remind me of the inmates in the monkey cage at the Bronx zoo.”
He chuckled. “Give ‘em an hour. They just got here. Monkeys are far better behaved.”
A pretty, blonde waitress hurried over. “Sorry, Sam, I didn’t see you.”
“You’ve gone deaf?” he challenged.
“No, but for the last hour, they’ve been calling everyone who enters ‘Sammy’. Besides, you said you’d be late tonight, and you’re two hours early.”
“Technically, I’m still at work. Which reminds me. I better check in with Master Trent.”
The girl rolled her eyes and set down frosty mugs of beer. She smiled at Carrie. “Hi, I’m Dawn. Did you want something other than beer?”
“Diet coke?”
“Sure.”
Sam snapped his fingers and appeared to communicate with her in sign language. With a heavy sigh and shake of her head, Dawn returned to the bar.
Sam yelled over the noise into his phone. “Master Trent. I still haven’t found her.”
Just then, a cheer rang out for the basketball game on the giant flat screen on the sidewall.
Sam grimaced and held the phone out. Carrie could hear Trent’s angry voice screaming, “…out there God knows where and you’re in a fucking bar! What is wrong with you? Did you even search the bathrooms?”
Sam returned the phone to his ear. “I paid a woman a hundred dollars to verify Carrie wasn’t in the bathroom.”
Appreciating Sam hadn’t turned her over to her former boss, who clearly remained crazy mad, she tried to help him out with his lie by holding up two fingers.
“Two hundred dollars, actually. She refused to do it for one.”
Carrie shook her head and mouthed ‘two bathrooms.’
“And then I went to the other bathroom and did the same. Yeah, and I expect to be reimbursed.”
Carrie rubbed one forefinger over the other in the universal sign for ‘shame on you.’ At least she hoped everyone understood what it meant. During her world travels, she discovered gestures could have significantly different meanings in other places. The ‘okay’ sign equated to flying the bird in Italy and the ‘flying the bird’ gesture was simply a way the English pointed to an object.
When Dawn returned with two diet cokes for Carrie, Sam frowned. “Gotta go.” He hung up on the yelling madman and lifted both drinks from the tray. Upon tasting them, he passed one to Carrie and placed one back on the tray. He arched a brow at the waitress, similar to the way Trent would.
Her heart ached. She’d probably never see Trent’s arching eyebrow again.
“Free round, compliments of Master Trent,” Sam called out.
“To Master Trent!” the men cheered and raised their current beers in a salute to the right wall where Trent’s face glared from all the dartboards.
Carrie laughed and took a big gulp of her diet coke. She gasped as liquid fire burned down her throat and lit a fire in her belly. “Water!” she whispered.
Sam passed her his second beer. “Try this.”
Desperate to stop the pain, she gulped down half the beer. While it did seem to deaden the burn, it also messed with the pull of gravity. She gripped the edge of table so she wouldn’t fall up. She never did well with alcohol.
“You okay?” he asked, rubbing her back the same way Trent did. God, she wished hell would freeze over so she could explain herself to a rational and calm Trent who might listen and forgive her. Then she could have her job and best friend back.
“He needs me! He can’t do it alone. No one could. Those people are impossible.”
Both Sams sighed and drank their two beers. “So what’d ya do to make Trent fire you?” their voices asked in unison.
She confessed her sins then burst into tears.
The Sams rubbed her back again as she laid her head on top of her crossed arms and cried in private.
When she finally calmed and raised her head, a single Sam dried her eyes with a rough white cloth and pushed her diet coke toward her.
She pushed it away.
“It’s just diet coke. I had Dawn bring you a new one.”
She pulled it close and tested his word with a tiny sip. When it didn’t burn, she took another sip. Finally, she pulled the paper off the straw and began an oral transfusion line.
When the glass gurgled, Sam stood and helped her to her feet. “Would you like to stop at the restroom before we go?”
She nodded. A second later, Dawn arrived at his table with a tray full of beers.
“No thank you,” Carrie stated.
Sam chuckled. “Take Carrie to the bathroom and I’ll take care of the beers.”
They switched chores and Dawn hurried her to the bathroom.
“Sorry about the drink,” Dawn said once they entered the bathroom. “Sam doesn’t normally do shit like that. Don’t know what’s up with him tonight. He’s usually a decent guy. Do you want me to call you a cab?”
“No money. But Sam has Trent’s limo.”
Dawn led her to the first stall. “What’s Master Trent really like?”
“Well, had you asked me this morning, I would’ve said he’s much nicer than he seems at first, but this afternoon he yelled at me to leave and not come back until hell freezes over.”
“Wow. So he really is a bastard?”
Carrie wanted to nod, but she couldn’t. “No…it was my fault.” She then told her the sad story.
“That sucks. But honestly, if I countermanded Sam like that, he’d fire me, and he’s the best boss I’ve ever had.”
“Sam’s your boss?” She hadn’t realized Sam owned the bar.
She nodded. “Yep, and he got pissed when I brought you two diet cokes, one normal and one like he ordered.” Dawn tilted her head and studied her. “You and Master Trent have something going on?”
“Not now, but I had thought maybe…”
“Now, I’m
getting the picture. Okay, I’m about to give you some advice, but if you tell Sam I told you this, he’ll fire me. I’m trusting you because the story you told me proves you understand people like us need our jobs.”
Carrie nodded and sniffled. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. Who’s gonna want a fired EA? And what if he tells them I undermined his authority? Who would hire me then? No one! I wouldn’t even hire me.”
Dawn helped her up from the toilet and led her to the counter where she helped Carrie wash her hands. “Listen, Sam’s got a weird hate/love relationship with Master Trent. I thought he genuinely liked you when he first brought you in, but now I’m thinking he’s using you to torture his master. You do not want to be in the middle of their ongoing war.”
“There’s no war. He’s Trent’s obsequious limo driver. I mean, who calls anyone ‘master’ anymore?”
“Okay, you’re too drunk to take advice. Just forget I said anything all. I tried and failed. I only hope it doesn’t come back and bite me.”
The bathroom door opened and Sam leaned in. “Everything okay in here?”
“Yes, she’s ready to go.”
Sam walked in and slipped his arm around her. “Time to go, Carrie. I just called Master Trent and told him I found you in a bar drinking away your sorrows. I’ve warned him you’re not very coherent, but he wants to talk to you tonight.”
She shook her head as horrible scenarios flashed through her foggy head. “He’s still yelling. I heard him on the phone with you. My heart can’t take anymore yelling right now. I’ll talk to him in a year or so when I’m better.”
Sam pulled her into his chest and held her. God, he felt so much like Trent. She wrapped her arms around his waist and held on with all her might. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“Come on. Let’s get you to Trent so you can crush his ribs. I don’t mind pain during good loving, but I draw the line when the loving is for another guy.”
She pulled away from him. “I’m sorry…I’m not thinking straight.”
“No, you’re not, but hopefully you’ll sober up and see the truth soon enough.”
They passed Dawn and slowly made it out of the bar.
Chapter 11
Trent regretted his angry words…but too late. Carrie had fled his presence.
Worst Week Ever (A Long Road to Love) Page 13
