CHAPTER
“Joyce, I need you.”
I grit my teeth in anger, wishing I could tell him whatever he needs to go fetch it himself. All morning I’ve been playing fetch like his puppy and he my master. It’s like the man doesn’t know how to do anything himself or he lives to torment me. Personally I think it’s the latter. I’ve never worked so much in my entire life and my job description seems to have added fetching him breakfast.
This morning when he asked me to drive the fifteen minutes Downtown to Hudson Café and get him breakfast, I hadn’t believed he was serious. Only he was. And had threatened to send me back too when I’d messed up his order and brought him back the wrong type of eggs. He’d accused me of deliberately messing his order up and I wish I had been smart enough to think of that.
Sending me back out to get him breakfast would be better than this. My stomach was growling, reminding me the only thing I’ve munched on all day was an apple. That had been so long ago, I don’t remember what it tasted like. My lunch hour had passed half an hour ago and I still have yet to go for lunch because I’ve been making calls for him since I refilled his cup of coffee.
“Joyce!”
This time he is standing at the door of his office. “Didn’t you hear me call you?”
“I’m coming,” I answer. Then under my breath I add, “your majesty.”
“What did you say?” he asks.
“I said I’m coming.”
I am hungry and getting pissed with every minute that ticks by and I don’t get to go for lunch. I walk into his office, following him inside and leaving the door open.
“Close the door.”
I don’t bother to argue but do as he says. I discover it’s less headache if I don’t argue with him. Besides, I can get through this one day because regardless of his threats I am not returning here tomorrow. I’ve been waiting for lunch to ask my grandmother if I could stay with her for a couple of weeks. She lives in Alabama where I am orginially from although I’ve worked so hard at my accent reduction, hardly anyone can tell.
It takes a while for me to register his office is all torn up. The chairs and other seats were pushed one side and the carpet rolled up. The walls bear patches where he had removed the paintings that had hung there since the day I first walked through the doors of Cavil’s.
“I’m redecorating the office,” he states as if it isn’t obvious. “I need you to help me to pick out samples for repainting the wall as well as different chairs. This all looks too stuffy. I want a modern office.” When I don’t respond, he glances over his shoulder at me. “Well, don’t just stand there. Get over here and help me go through these catalogues.”
“Umm shouldn’t you wait to order what you want before tearing up the office?” I ask, tentatively moving over to his desk where he has an various catalogues strewn.
“It doesn’t matter. The furniture will be here tomorrow anyway.”
“And you haven’t ordered them yet?” I asked dubiously.
He flashes me his devastating grin. “You’re forgetting one thing, Joyce. I’m Axel Ash.”
“Trust me, I’ve not forgotten,” I mumble but he ignores my comment.
The minute I start looking through the catalogues I become absorbed. My eye for color, details, management of space and linking pieces with its owner, grab hold of my attention. I don’t only help him to pick out pieces but also show him how I envision everything. I become so animated speaking about designing his office the way he wants it, modern and chic but with a bit of old school feel to it, that I don’t realize he’s just sitting there staring at me until I ask him what he thinks.
At his lack of response, I turn from the window where I had indicated how he could make an arrangement of potted plants. My heart lurches with my chest to find him staring at me.
“You’re a natural at this,” he says almost in awe. “How do you know so much about this?”
Before I could respond about my Art degree, my tummy growls. Not silently but loud enough to be heard by Axel. My cheeks color in embarrassment.
“I’ve only had an apple to eat all day,” I inform him.
“What?” His expression turn stormy. “What do you mean you’ve only eaten an apple?”
“I didn’t have time to make breakfast this morning and I haven’t had time to take lunch.”
“But you bought me breakfast this morning. You mean, you didn’t get yourself something too?”
I shake my head. “I’m on the job. I take my lunch when I’m supposed to.”
“You bloody fool!” he exclaimed angrily. “Do you think dropping down on the job will help you to get out of your contract? Why didn’t you take lunch?”
“You kept giving me things to do,” I answer stiffly, not liking him referring to me as a ‘bloody fool.’
“Not at the expense of your lunch. Go. Now.”
I stalk out of the office furiously. I was quite positive I should schedule an appointment for a psychiatrist somewhere in his weekly calendar. He packed my day full of errands and tasks to do for him causing me to skip lunch then get mad at me for skipping lunch? Should be mad at himself and not me?
I shake my head, convinced I would never understand this man and that’s the reason I have to go. He is crazy and my attraction to him is even crazier. You’re supposed to be attracted to someone you like. I don’t have a single bone in my body that likes Mr. Ash.
I drove the ten minutes to McGraw Avenue for lunch at La Rosita, a Mexica restaurant. After ordering my meal of chicken fajita, I ring my grandmother to put phase one of my plan into action.
“Joyce, hello, how are you?”
The sound of my grandmother’s voice warms me. She was the one who raised me when my mother died. I was only eleven at the time so I basically grew up with her as my mother. We are very close and it had been hard for me to move away from Alabama to Michigan but I’d gotten the full scholarship at the University of Michigan. As much as my grandmother had taken care of my needs growing up, we’d both know I needed a scholarship if I was ever going to graduate college. So, we’d both cried and I’d flown the nest, at first missing her so badly, I wanted to return home. Then I’d met Jessica and we became friends and I learned how to cope better. It isn’t so bad now as I try to see her as often as I can. I return home for every Christmas and Thanksgiving and we talk often.
“Hello gram, I’m doing fine,” I respond to her question. “How are you? I can’t believe you actually gave texting a try yesterday.”
She laughs. “What can I say? Everyone at my Bridge club was quite impressed. The next time you get here, you’ll have to teach me something new.”
“Hah, I will gram. In fact, you’ll be seeing me sooner than later.”
“How’s that dear?”
“A sec, gram.”
I thank the waitress who bring along my lunch and affirms that everything is okay and I don’t need anything else before returning to the call.
“Mr. Cavil sold the company,” I update her.
“How awful! Did everyone lose their jobs?”
“Oh no, the new boss is keeping everyone.”
“That’s might kind of him.”
If only you know. But not to alarm her, I don’t go into the gritty tale with her.
“The new boss and I don’t see eye to eye gram and I was wondering if I could stay with you for a few weeks.”
“A few weeks, dear? You aren’t due your vacation as yet, are you?”
“No, gram. I’m quitting. Maybe it’s time to put my Art degree to use. You know that’s what I always envision myself doing. Anyway I just want to come home for a while and relax while I figure things out. That’s okay with you isn’t it?”
“Of course it’s okay, dear. You can come home any time you want. Shall I expect you this weekend then? I may have to air out your room and change the bed linens.”
“Gram, I was just there two months ago last Christmas,” I remind her. “You don’t have to do anything, I’ll do whatever needs to be done when I get there. By the way, I’m thinking of flying out tomorrow, not over the weekend.”
“In the mid-week?”
“Yes gram. Airfares are usually cheaper mid-week anyway.”
“Okay good. I suppose it’ll be good having you around.”
“Thanks gram. I’ve to eat this lunch and run on back to the office. I’ll call you later to tell you what time’s my flight, okay?”
“Alright, dear. Do take care.”
“You too, gram. I love you.”
“Love you too, Joyce.”
I hang up, feeling much better than when I entered the restaurant. Now if that man would just give me so time alone when I get back to the office, I could look up a flight on the computer. I will have to spend a couple hundred dollars which isn’t ideal now that I’m not working but it can’t be helped. Something tells me if I simply stay home tomorrow, Mr. Ash would find his way to my apartment. Not many employees would but I’d bet my money he would.
For whatever reason, this man has it in his head to torture me.
After quickly eating lunch, I pay for my meal, leaving a decent tip because I am feeling much better now that I have a plan. I would go through the rest of the day with a smile on my face no matter how hard he pushes me.
Apart from a few calls he asks me to make, he leaves me alone for the rest of the day. When he walks out of the office, heading for the elevator, I feel a sense of relief and open a private browser. I quickly made a search for cheap flights from Detroit to Birmingham tomorrow. I always travel Southwest because of the free check-in bags as well as their cheap flights but I couldn’t find a return flight cheaper than $600. Damn.
The urge to pee have me fleeing my desk and heading for the bathroom. I relieve my bladder and wash my hand, drying with the automatic dryer before returning to my desk. As I sit on the cushioned chair, I hear noise in Mr. Ash’s office. He is back? I glance quickly at my computer screen and see it had time out and faded the screen gray. He didn’t see my computer screen, had he?
I determine he hasn’t seen the screen or he wouldn’t be calmly putting about his office. I return to the website and quickly purchase a one-way ticket.
At five, I poke my head in his office, my cheeks flushed because I am excited. This time tomorrow I would be with my grandmother and he would be none the wiser.
“I’m off for home,” I inform him.
He doesn’t look up from his computer, simply nods and continue tapping away at the keys as though I’m invisible. I close the door a little harder than necessary, checking again to ensure my computer is shut down properly before leaving the office. My heart aches because I can’t take the pictures on the desk. If I do then he would realize I am up to something. I gaze longingly at the last picture of my mom. Maybe I’d ask Jessica to swing by and collect my things for me.
Later in the night, after we watch an episode of 2 Broke Girls— we both love that TV Show since the girls’ friendship bears resemblance to our own— Jessica helps me pack even though she is bummed that I am leaving.
“Can’t you just mess up your job and make him want to fire you?” she asks me. “There must be another way you can get out of that job. Why is he gunning for you like this anyway? Are you sure you never did anything to piss the man off?”
“Unless he is so petty, he can hold a grudge against me for running into him,” I answer, stuffing a pair of jeans in my bag. “Then you’re answer is yes, I’m sure I’ve not done anything to piss the man off. It’s like he is not happy until he has that one person to torture and unfortunately I am that one person.”
“If only you weren’t such a pushover.”
“I’m not a pushover1!” I protest throwing the pillow at her.
“You are too!” she responds. “You never stick up for yourself and that’s why people take advantage of you. You should walk up that your boss and say “My name is Joyce Brown. I’m your PA. I’ve worked here for two years and I’m pretty awesome at my job and I won’t take anymore bullshit from you.”
I snort at her. “Trust me, you don’t know who Axel Ash is. Did I tell you he threatened to sue me for hitting his security guard?”
“Well you did shove the man in his gut with the box.”
“Only because he wouldn’t move. By the way, whose side are you on? Mine or his?”
“Yours of course,” she replies dropping herself onto my bed and pulling her phone from her pocket. “Why don’t we google him? Maybe we’ll find some dirt you can use against him.”
“If it’s on google, it’s not a secret anymore.”
“Let’s google him anyway.”
I pretend as though I’m not interested though I want to know what google has to say about the man. I fold a shirt and wait impatiently for Jessica to spill what she’s reading.
“Damn, he’s gorgeous,” Jessica announce. “If you don’t want him, I’ll take him. Can we switch jobs?”
I scowl at my best friend, not caring for the thought of her with Axel. Axel? When had I stopped thinking of him as Mr. Axel?
“Be my guest,” I told her though inside I am disturbed at the mental picture of Axel with her. He probably would enjoy her too. Way more than if it’s me. Beautiful, experienced Jessica with the bigger boobs and bubblier personality. What would I ever have to offer a man like that?
“Drat, he’s already taken.”
“He’s married?” I ask, spinning around to face her and I can’t help the hint of disappointment from my tone.
She laughs and points a finger at me. “I knew it. You are interested in him. Admit it.”
“He’s not the first guy I’ve ever been attracted to,” I tell her and it says a lot. Even with guys I like, my insecurities and inexperience keep me away from them.
“He’s not married,” Jessica clarifies. “Although he has several pictures taken with some very high class women. Holy hell! The guy’s not only a millionaire. He’s a billionaire.”
My heart sinks. That explains why he thinks he can boss me around and have things his way. He was probably born with a golden spoon in his mouth, not used to people telling him no. Well, he’s going to be in for a surprise tomorrow when I’m gone.
“Enough of Axel,” I tell her. “My flight is at six tomorrow so I’m going to go to bed. You sure you don’t mind dropping me at the airport?”
“No, I don’t mind.”
“And one more thing, I’ve some pictures on my desk at work. If you could use your feminine wiles or something to get them for me, I’d appreciate it.”
I find it hard to sleep as I imagine Axel finding out about my plan and anticipating knock on the apartment door any minute. There’s no knock and eventually I fall asleep but too soon my clock is alarming that it’s four-thirty. I groan but drag my body to the bathroom for a quick shower.
Jessica is just as tired as I am and we drive in silence to the airport. There she hugs me and tells me to call her when I get to Birmingham. I promise her I will and feel teary-eyed even though I am not leaving her forever. It feels weird because I am not sure when I will be back. It all depends on how Axel responds to me leaving.
While going through the process at the airport, I feel as though as I’m being watched but whenever I look around, I see no one around me, staring at me. Definitely not Axel’s familiar face. I can’t help being jumpy and only breathe a sigh of relief when the airplane is in the air. I look down from my window seat over Detroit and sigh with relief. Only then I am able to get some sleep, being thousands of feet in the air, far away from Axel’s reach.