Page 14 of His Obsession
“I-I don’t know, Alek. He didn’t call in or show up,” she stuttered.She called him Alek.The green monster of jealousy tried to raise its ugly head.Nope,andnope. I withdrew my mental claws and sheathed them back in place.
“Get him on the phone, I want it transferred to my office now!” He commanded as he walked to the room behind me. I spun in my chair, following him with my eyes. Oh no, his office was behind me? That was not where I told maintenance to put him. Why did no one ever listen to me?
Alek paused in his office, about-faced, and dipped his head out the door frame. “Liz, be ready to leave in thirty. We are going to meet Randall for lunch.”
My eyes blinked rapidly, processing the sudden information. “Um, okay, I’ve got a few more papers left.” I held a stack up in my hand, waving it back and forth. Wait, if Randall had left, that meant… I would ride with Alek alone.
A look I couldn’t read touched his face for a fleeting moment, and then it flickered away. What was he thinking at that moment?Penny for your thoughts, Mr. Jackson?I went back to the filing cabinet, finding the client’s name, and placed their contract in its corresponding folder, repeating the process.
Fifteen minutes later, Becca was knocking on Alek’s door. This should be good. I felt like a self-satisfied General sitting back in his chair, waiting for the bomb to explode. It would make me nervous, delivering him any bad news… just look at how he handled Mr. Donovan.
“Come in,” he hollered through the door.
Becca strolled to her doom, shutting the office door behind her. Their discussion was faint, making it impossible to understand. Not that I was trying to listen… okay, I was. I wanted to know what she was telling him. What was he telling her?Oh, to be a fly on the wall.
I shook the thoughts from my head and returned to my computer; I needed a distraction. I neglected my computer all morning anyway, and I knew there were emails that needed reading. I played a couple of games of Hearts and Solitaire, losing at both.
I picked up my phone and text Lucy.
Me: My boss drove me to work today. It’s going to be a long one, I suppose.
I knew Lucy was still sleeping, so I tossed my phone on my desk with athudand rocked in my chair; boredom crept in. I had organized my desk, cleaned it, and put away my papers. This was how my typical day would go, aside from Mr. Donovan harassing me occasionally.
The thought of Mr. Donovan brought memories of the blood all over the floor, and I found myself staring at the spot where it had pooled. It was clean, as I expected, as if it never happened. That was quite the cleaning crew, although I didn’t imagine cleaning marble would be too difficult. I had a few places on my floor I could use them for. Not from blood, but from a few too many wild nights that were now stained on my rug. Thankfully, I had hardwood floors throughout the house because Lucy was an enthusiastic drunk.
I remember this one time, Lucy threw a party, got drunk, and then dyed her hair rainbow colors. There was hair dye all over the place, rainbow outlines of bodies on the walls, and vodka flooding the floor. It looked like unicorns, and crime scene investigators had the party; rainbows and body impressions everywhere. It took forever to repaint the walls white, and my house plants would never be the same.
Becca swung open the door with a hint of sadness coating her features as Alek followed behind her, stoic as ever. Sometimes, I wondered if she and Mr. Donovan had a thing going on. It was a problematic relationship to read. He treated her like shit, but Becca adored him. There were times I thought she was flirting with him, but then she would do the same thing with others and throw my theories out the window.
“Ready to go? I’m starving,” I squeaked, a little too excited. I’m going to embarrass myself before the day is out. I just know it.
“Ready,” he replied, his smile heating my cheeks. He shut his office door, sped out to the elevator with me close on his heels.
Butterflies ready to flutter.
“Where did Randall go?” I asked, needing conversation to fill the unbearable silence.
“He had errands.” His clipped answer ending the conversation before it even began.
“Right.”
The ride over to The Drowning Anchor—my favorite seafood restaurant—was silent. I didn’t trust myself to say things I shouldn’t. It was the first time I had been alone with her in a business setting and not with me creeping on her. I had to keep my eyes on the road and not turn and just stare at her bust spilling from her shirt. I had to grip the steering wheel extra tight.
I opened the restaurant’s double glass doors, and the aroma of seafood and garlic smacked my senses, causing me to drool like Pavlov's dogs. Tonk and I would hit this place at least twice a week before shit started going haywire. Placing my hand on her lower back, I guided her to the table that I always had reserved.
I pulled out her wooden chair, and she sat, tucking her skin-tight skirt under her long silky legs. I waved the waitress over and ordered a scotch and calamari appetizer… again, the favorites. The waitress flashed a wide toothy smile, swaying her hips back and forth, asking for attention. She was flirting with me, and I had no interest in her. Lucy’s jaw clenched, the muscle in her cheek flexing and releasing, and her lips looked to be saying something only she could decipher.
She did this from time to time, talking to herself, that is. Most of the time, you couldn’t see the inner monologue, but you could sometimes watch it happening on her delectable lips.
I tugged out my phone with a lack of interest and sent a text to Tonk.
Me: Waiting for you.
“The usual Mr. Jackson?” she asked with bragging confidence aimed to make Liz jealous.
“Yes, two orders. Pack one to go.” I didn’t know when I’d be getting back here this week, so I needed my fix. Some people had drug issues, while I had a Liz and seafood with pasta issues. It was complicated.
“Okay,” she said as she inputted it on her tablet. “And for you, Miss?” she asked, barely turning her attention to Liz.