Chapter Two
The air was crisp out as Lillian made her way through the bustling city. She had been there for going on six months now and still was in awe of just how large everything was. Even now, she knew the sun was shining on the other side of the large building, but somehow the warmth of it never touched her face.
A lock of hair slapped against her face as a gust of wind found its way through the buildings. It slapped against her cheek before she tucked the rogue strand of hair behind her ear, the pale blonde color a stark contrast against her black gloves.
Lillian took a drink of her soothing hot cocoa and puffed out a bit of air. A soft cloud billowed from her, and she smiled. It reminded her of being a child and walking to school along a quiet country road. Only now she was walking to work, and it was anything but quiet. Everything was so very different in the huge city.
For one thing, it was colder than what she was used to. Although her small town got a bit of snow each Christmas, there was nothing like the bitter cold of Minneapolis. And no amount of preparation could have readied her for the winter that had long since started.
They had already had several snowfalls and some ice. It wasn’t even Thanksgiving yet.
Still, she was happy with the move. There hadn’t been anything for her back at home. Certainly, no chance at job advancement unless she was counting the move from bagger to cashier at the local grocery store.
This was even more the case now that she had a snappy new job to write home about. It was finally something with a chance at lasting, which she could use to show everyone that she could make it. At her last several jobs, they’d made it clear they only needed a temporary body to fill out a desk for a few weeks or months.
The whole job treadmill had been disheartening to say the least, especially when she just wanted the chance to show that she could be a great member of any office.
Lillian frowned.
They had all said she wasn’t suited for the big city back home. That she would be eaten alive. As if she were some sort of child venturing into woods filled with hungry wolves.
For crying out loud, it wasn’t exactly like she was the preacher’s daughter. She’d gotten into her fair amount of trouble back home. Not any more than most teens, but still she wasn’t some sort of saint.
She secretly wondered if they all wanted her to fail, and suggesting she wasn’t going to make it was just a way for them to justify their crappy lives. They didn’t want to bother to try for anything more, so they tried to tear her down.
It still pissed her off thinking of the last big blowout she’d had with her parents. They were certain that she should stay and become a baby-making factory for Tucker Clayton.
Lillian didn’t want anything to do with Tucker or his plans to make a soccer team of his own kids. Not that it stopped them. Somehow Tucker had become the answer to all their prayers. The opportunity for their strange daughter to be normal. Whatever the hell that was supposed to be.
But it seemed no matter how many times she told her parents she wanted nothing to do with Tucker, they had never given up hope.
Well, until they had watched her load her car to the brim. It was only then she saw the realization hit them. She was leaving and their dreams of a normal life for her with Tucker went out the window.
Lillian snorted. Maybe Tucker would get another chance if Eve ever popped back in town.
She could just see it now: her badass sister who had traveled the world taking pictures being sideswiped by a one-sided arranged marriage. It was likely to be as glorious as it sounded. Lillian’s only regret was that she wouldn’t be there.
She took another sip of her hot cocoa from her Styrofoam cup. Maybe a call was in order. She needed to warn her sister so she’d have a chance to bail.
Her smile grew wider. Or maybe she’d let Eve squirm a little. Payback for not calling for three months.
Of course, it was that exact moment, lost in her own thoughts that Lillian stepped out and instead of meeting concrete, she met winter sludge. The gross combination of water, snow, and dirt could practically be the official symbol of Minneapolis in the winter.
"Oh shit," she shouted.
The icy sludge slipped into her black heels and instantly chilled her toes.
Several people walking past frowned as she tried to shake out the ice from the bottom of her foot. Bits of water and ice flew everywhere.
Slowly she tested out her now soggy shoe. It made a loud squishing noise as she stepped down. Damn it. Fifty dollars down the drain.
She didn't get how people did it, being both professional and weather-ready. Lillian wasn’t exactly sure how the two coincided. There was professional, and there was weather-ready. It seemed impossible to be both.
There was no choice now though. She’d just have to hobble along until she reached the new job. First impressions were everything, and a soggy shoe would be the least of her worries if she showed up late to work, especially on the first day.
Just one more block, and she would be there.
The building wasn't exactly what she was expecting. She spotted no distinguishing markers out front aside from the plain plaque that read Olsen Enterprises.
It wasn't even particularly tall compared to the other buildings around it. Nothing that would give her any indication on what sort of place she was walking into. The temp agency had been vague on that front as well. All she knew was they needed someone to do some secretarial work, and that was exactly what she was there to do.
Lillian tried to look the company up online. Even the website had been somewhat vague, noting that they were involved in the procurement business, but not giving many details other than contact information.
A few nerves poked at her insides. It wasn’t so much what they did, but more who they were connected with. Word on the net was that the group was connected to organized crime. Of course, it was totally farfetched, but still the idea was floating around her head as she stood outside the strangely plain building. Would the Mafia want a plain building, or something gaudier?
Lillian ran her gloved fingers over her necklace. The stone had a deep blood red color, identical to the one her sister held. Some sort of good luck charm her sister had picked up in a remote village during her travels. Lillian could only hope that it brought her luck that day of all days.
Her shoes still squishing as she walked, Lillian made her way up the few steps and pushed open the door to step inside. Once again, she was met by very simple décor, gray walls with nothing on them and an elevator at the far end.
An older man sat behind a desk and frowned at her as she squished her way into the quiet and pristine building. She glanced down at the black-and-white speckled marble under as she made her way toward the desk.
“Can I help you?” the older man asked, looking her up and down.
Lillian could tell the man clearly thought she was lost. Did she really look so bad?
“The Up Town Agency sent me,” she said quietly.
The graying man frowned hard at her. If she wasn’t meeting the approval of the doorman, she was clearly in a world of trouble.
“Third floor,” he said stiffly, jerking his head in the direction of a nearby elevator.
Lillian squished her way over to the elevator. Behind her she could practically hear the man frowning at her and turned just in time to see him drop a towel on the floor where her wet footmarks were.
A blush spread across her face. Day one and she had already pissed off someone. Her sister would likely be proud. Eve was all about asserting herself when she met new people. Then they knew exactly where they stood with her.
That wasn’t really Lillian’s way though. She was somewhere in between what her parents wanted her to be and what her sister thought she should be.
Lillian pressed the button for the third floor and lifted her foot, hoping she wouldn’t drip anymore than she already had. Placing her empty hand against the door, she used the solid surface as a way to hold her balance for a moment as she lifted her foot.
She jumped as the bell rang loudly and the door slid open. Her body tumbled forward without any means to stop herself. Her arms shot out to brace for the impact when she landed hard against a firm wall of muscle. Sweet cocoa goodness sloshed over her hand. The hard surface had crushed her cup, freeing its content.
Lillian glanced up at the man who was now glowering down at her. His dark brown eyes bore into hers, a scowl fixed on his face.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," she said, struggling to pull herself back upright.
Despite the angry look on the man’s face, she couldn’t help but notice the strong hand that circled her waist. It continued to offer support as she struggled to find her footing.
Not really sure what else to do, she reached out with her already damp blouse sleeve and patted it against his brown-stained white shirt.
The door to the elevator dinged loudly and started to close. She struggled to pull her shoe out of the ridge of the elevator door. The heel remained firmly lodged in the crevasse there.
The man moved swiftly, and he hit a button.
Lillian was having a hard time keeping her eyes off him. He was magnificent. In fact, she’d really only seen a man that well-built in magazines or on TV. Part of her wondered if he was some sort of movie star. Maybe they had famous clients that came in.
Not that spilling her hot cocoa on a famous person would be great, but it would be something to tell people after she got fired at least.
“Are you going to get your shoe?” the man said. The soft, gravelly way he spoke made her whole body stand at attention. He wasn’t loud, but the authority in his voice was clear, and it sent a hum all over her that she hadn’t felt before.
Still in a stupor, Lillian pulled her shoe from the elevator and slipped it back on her foot.
A loud sigh came from in front of her, and she looked up once again to find the man standing there with an annoyed expression. Clearly, he had places to go, and she was blocking him at every turn.
Heat flooded her cheeks. She moved back and he swept past. His cologne had mixed with the hot cocoa, and now he smelled like manly cocoa. Something about it made her want to lick him up and down. If he weren’t such an ass that is.
“Tell Leif that I’ll be a moment,” the man said, and glanced behind him as she stood there in the elevator just waiting for the damn thing to stop buzzing and finally close. “I need to stop in the garage before meeting him.”
The older man shot her a nasty look as the buzzing finally stopped. “Sure thing, Mr. Olsen.”
Lillian felt her mouth run dry as the name echoed in her ears. Olsen. Same as on the building. She’d just tossed hot cocoa on her boss the first day.
The door dinged loudly, and the dark brown eyes staring back at her disappeared as the elevator closed between them.
Worst first day of work ever.