Chapter 3
The next day I wake up in my own bed. There is no bright sunshine that comes through but just the dainty snow fall reminding me that winter is upon Chicago, and I will spend another Christmas single. I push the covers off the bed and reach for the crutch; I didn't need a cast, thankfully. I groan as I enter the kitchen and warm up some instant oatmeal, popping a few of the painkillers into my mouth. The warm scent of cinnamon wafting from the microwave of the relaxes me slightly.
The rest of my morning routine takes way more time than before. I am cautious not to move my leg too much, but putting on pants is a struggle when your leg is a little bigger than before. The doctor gave me several pills to take home to reduce the swelling, but I do not want to take them. I refuse to allow myself anything that Leon O'Brian, the horrible motorist, purchased. Of course, the stay in the hospital would have cost me more than a month's rent was all taken care of.
The ibuprofen starts to numb the current pain, and outside in the cold world, I make my way to the coffee shop. I plan to arrive at the office with my head held high and my leg in full limp. If anyone asks ‘oh, what happened?’ I will not hesitate to tell them who ran me over.
I stand in line amongst the other drained workers of America. Their heavy heads cast downward, and their jaws are tightened. We are the economic drive of America. I order my medium black coffee. The friendly barista nods and punches in the numbers,
“Your total comes to 4.27.”
The high price reminds me of why I never purchase coffee. I half-heartedly smile back and reach into my coat pocket.
"Damn," I mutter to myself. My wallet is not there. I must have been so lost in thought and pain this morning, I had forgotten to nab it out of my purse. All of my things had just been piled up after the crash.
“Nevermi-” I am interrupted.
“I got it,” a calm face voice says.
"Oh that's alright," I say as I spin around to see the face belonging to the kind Samaritan. I am shocked at how handsome he is. He is tall and muscular. With tanned skin and dark brown eyes, peering from under a mess of almost black hair. His jaw is perfectly square. He wears worn jeans and a heavy gray sweater.
“No, really. Tis the season,” he smirks. His smile sends shivers through my body,
He reaches a long arm over my shoulder and holds out his card.
“Add a tall coffee, black as well to that,” he says with a perfect wink. We walk over to the counter together. He obviously notices my pathetic hobbling.
“What happened? If you don’t mind me asking?”
“Some asshole ran me over,” I say with spite. “I was chasing my things, which had fallen out of my suitcase, into to the road, and this guy on a motorcycle almost hit me and then a car hit me.”
There was an extreme look of concern in his eyes.
“Damn...I’m sure that he feels pretty bad,” he says, sprinkling a bag of sugar in the styrofoam cup.
“Doubt it, pompous prick -” I stop myself. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean -” My mouth becomes jumbled, and I glance away from his dark, intense gaze.
“No, no, don’t be sorry. The guy sounds like a prick for almost hitting you.”
I smile back and take a sip of the coffee, but unfortunately, I am an idiot and the heat scalds the inside of my mouth. I cringe and my eyes begin to water uncontrollably.
“You okay?” his smooth voice asks.
“Yeah - its...I’m an idiot.”
He places a hand on my arm. My soul begins to sing under the light touching of his hand. I notice the tattoo of a ship peeking out from the sleeve.
“Don’t say that.”
I blush violently.
“Are you headed to work?”
“Yup, to quit,” I say firmly.
His expression slightly shifts, and I think I see his eyes slightly twitch.
“Thanks for the coffee,” I lift the cup and hobble out of the shop.
I arrive at the office with my red wind burned hands and cheeks clutching the once warm coffee. I toss it into the recycling. I notice the receptionist is borderline fretting. His hands type viciously against the keyboard. His eyes bounce around the desk. His head nods as he speaks into the small microphone headset. But I don't give it much thought and continue to the office.
Everyone there is in a panic. No one even notices me and my horrible hobble of a walk. They all seem to be chattering to one another in a large unison of confusion. I see Terissa and Herman sitting at their desks, talking loudly to each other.
“Hey,” I say as I walk over. Their eyes flicker toward me. Terissa cocks her head like a bird does when it sees something interesting.
“What happened to you?” she asks. “We noticed you weren’t here yesterday.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I say abruptly slamming my bag onto the desk. The commotion in the office seems to grow. “What is it with everyone?”
“You won’t believe it, but Leon O’Brian is here in Chicago, and he’s stopping by the office,” Terissa squealed like a little child. I scowl then. Of course, he would show up here.
“You look like someone just kicked you in the shin,” Herman states with a smug look. “What, you hate the guy we work for?”
“Yeah. I do.” I nod. They weren’t expecting that. “Which is why I am quitting today.” They weren’t expecting that either. Both of them snapped forward.
“You're quitting?” Terissa could not possibly understand. In her mind, like everyone else at this establishment, Leon O’Brian is like the second coming of Christ. He is the leader of technological advancement. His ideas are about to change the name of the game.
“Yup. Actually, I’m going to do it right now.”
“You realize you risk yourself getting blacklisted from every company ever,” Herman stammers. I roll my eyes. They are both being so dramatic. Besides, if their friend Leon decides to pull something like that - I will gladly hold a press conference to discuss the issue of my leg. I don’t waste my time explaining to them any of story and limp toward Gregory Williams's office. Part of me hates myself for disappointing Greg. But I know he probably doesn’t care. I am just one of the many little busy bees buzzing around the company. I place m hand on the cold door handle.
“You can’t go in there,” a woman in a black dress snaps, reaching her hand out to stop mine. I ignore her and that gives me some small taste of enjoyment. I am pathetic. I violently swing the door open and march in.
The office is dimly light and very masculine. Dark, almost black, wood covers the floor. The walls are lined with black book cases, and a giant mirror faces the glass desk. Gregory sits up. The glow of his computer shines on his face.
"Eleanor, is everything okay?" he asks. The genuine sympathy and concern in his voice make me suddenly full of shame and embarrassment. His sky blue eyes lock onto mine. He stands quickly.
"I uh-" I start to stammer. The dream I had of him appears in my mind. I can feel him again, a warm feeling oozes in my stomach and finds its way to my clit.
“I heard about the accident. We are so sorry about everything,”
“It’s okay,” I choke “-well, no. No. It’s not okay. That’s why I am here...I don’t think - and this has nothing to do with you, but - “
I am interrupted by the door and the receptionist sticking his head in.
“Leon is here,” he says quickly. Gregory snaps his eyes away from me.
“Perfect!” he says with a smile. The receptionist disappears. I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks. I hate myself for being so impulsive sometimes.
"Eleanor, I'm so sorry to cut this short. Just - if you could give me one moment?" He does not wait for an answer and hurriedly follows the receptionist out of the office. I get a whiff of his sweet cologne. I sink into one of the dark brown swivel chairs facing the glass desk and stare at my reflection in the large mirror. I brush my thin fingers through my long hair and pull it down behind my shoulders. I look back behind toward the door, but there is no way to see out into the office or hear anything. I chew on my bottom lip and face back toward the desk.
Is this a stupid idea? Just because I hate Leon for basically running me over, didn't mean that I had to hate the company or Gregory. I twist the gold ring I have on my thumb. I really should just start work. I am already behind like missing the final review in school before a big exam. Alright, this is foolish. I can stay with the company for one year that is it, and then I can have something great on my resume and move upward in the career world. I am good at what I do. I know that much.
As I start to stand, the door of the offices starts to open.
“Eleanor,” a voice says calmly from behind me. I freeze. It’s strangely familiar. I turn around and a gasp escapes my throat. It’s the dude from the coffee shop this morning. His dark eyes hold mine. “Gregory thought you might be trying to quit today,” he said in that same deep voice. “I can’t let that happen.”
A thousand feelings swarm my insides. I didn't know what to say or think or do. I could shout, run, maybe start crying - part of me felt like vomiting. I hate this man. Or at least I want to. I can't believe how incredibly handsome he looks. His hair is pushed back. His lips move up into a gorgeously large smile, the kind of smile you catch yourself smiling at for no reason. His ordinary clothes are replaced with a tight-fitting suit, but the tie hangs untied around his neck and the buttons slightly reveal a perfectly formed chest.
“You bought me coffee.”
Out of the hundred things I could say to him, ‘you bought me coffee' came out of mouth! What is wrong with me!?
“I did. I should have introduced myself then, but I was unsure about your feelings toward me.” He walks toward me. He glides across the room and he settles into the chair next to mine. “Please.” He motions to the seat. I felt frozen.
“Sit down, Eleanor,” he commands. Something inside of me snaps. I suddenly become aware of what is going on, and I obey him. He leans forward. The amount of intimacy between us makes me nervous and I lean back, but I can smell him. He smells like the outside and cigarettes,
"There is nothing I can say that will even begin to express the level of regret and remorse I feel for the other day. Really, I'm sorry, Eleanor. I didn't see you at all in the road. It was like you appeared out of nowhere, and when the car hit you. I can't forgive myself." His hands clasps mine and he stares at me deeply. I can feel my heart quicken, and warmth spreads from my chest down to in between my legs. I cannot believe this is happening.
“You really are quite beautiful. Gregory told me about you. He told me how brilliant you are as well. O-Tech cannot lose you. Please, let me take you out to dinner tonight, and we will talk about your position here with us. At least before you decide to leave.” He leans back and lets go of my hand.
“You want to take me to dinner?” I stutter out. “I don't think that's appropriate.”
He bites his bottom lip.
“Well, I need you to understand how horrible I feel about this. What do you want for Christmas?”
I blink.
“What?” I laugh out loud and this makes him smile.
“Come on. Let me get you something!”
“No. What kind of question is that? I’m not a twelve year old. I don’t know what I want for Christmas.” I shake my head.
“I know what I want,” he says abruptly.
“Oh, yeah? And what is that?”
“You.”
The smile slowly fades off my face as what he says sinks in.
“Please, go home and relax; I will pick you up tomorrow night.” His eyes look down at my leg. I’m glad I wore my black loose trousers, or else he would be looking at a swollen tree trunk, “How is it?”
“It's fine,” I say gently. He nods and rests a hand on my leg. I feel the blood rushing to my cheeks.
“Really, I’m so sorry. My driver will take you home.”
I stare at him for a long time.
“I would like to go out for dinner, but if I stay at home all week I’m going to go stir crazy,” I say slowly.
He smiles at that.
“If you want to stay I won’t make you leave. But if you find it too much. You are more than welcome to go home.”
He helps me up and follows me out of the office. Everyone stares as we walk out together. I feel his hand resting on the small of my back.