Taking The Fall: the Complete Series(92)

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” she squeaks at me in a voice that sounds like nails on a chalkboard. She reaches for her desk phone, I’m sure to call security, because I am, after all, half naked. I’m dressed only in a bra, black pants and my boots. No way was I letting that dipshit downstairs take fifty dollars out of my last check for my uniform, and I have no plans of ever seeing his face again. He had the balls, after firing me, to suggest I drop to my knees and he would pay me for other services if I needed the money so bad. When I started to unbutton my top the little fucker thought he was getting what he wanted. All he really got was my shirt and apron thrown at him. And a black eye. I can still feel the light sting on my knuckles from the punch. Oh, yeah, his eye was going to be a nice black and purple come morning. Growing up in foster care, I learned how to throw a mean punch.

Seeing that my time has now become limited, I walk past her and push open both doors.

“Cindy I told you—” his words cut off when he looks up and sees me. Jaw clenching, nose flaring as he takes in my attire, or lack thereof. Today, like every day, he’s wearing a three-piece suit, which is the same grey as his eyes. He’s always so neatly put together. Even his stupid handsome face is all straight, perfect lines. Every time he would come into the coffee shop I wanted to mess him up. I always wanted to run my fingers through his hair and give him that freshly fucked look. I thought about rubbing my lips across his neck, leaving a smudge of my lip gloss there so he didn’t look so perfect. The first time he came in, he gave me a half smile and ordered a plain black coffee. No cream or sugar. Not even a flavor. Seems that’s how he likes everything. Every day he would come in and get his coffee and engage me in a little bit of conversation. I looked forward to seeing him. He was different than the other suits. Most either treated me like I could be a quick fuck for them or gave me a look of distaste.

Then one day he came in with a woman. I had my back to him, but I could hear them talking. Taking a quick glance over my shoulder, I could see the woman with him was beautiful. She was elegant in a way I could never imagine being myself. She said to him, “she looks out of place. I’m shocked they let her work here looking like that.” His only response was “I’m sure she would clean up nice if she actually tried.” It had been a long time since I’d been hurt by someone’s words and it pissed me off. So, that day, the games began. Gone were my sweet smiles and my excitement at seeing him. I know I look different. I like my pink-purple hair, my loud nail polish and lip gloss. It’s me. I stopped trying to fit into other people’s molds when I left the foster system. I didn’t have to pretend to be anyone but me.#p#分页标题#e#

I tried to make his life hell whenever he came into the shop after that. Maybe if I was a big enough bitch he would stop coming. I was pissed that I let myself believe that he liked me.

Glancing around his office, it’s all so cold—glass and chrome. It makes goosebumps break out on my exposed skin. Everything in his office is perfectly in its place, just like him. I keep looking around, not wanting to meet his eyes yet.

“Well, Bray, I didn’t know you hired entertainment for the meeting,” drawls the man sitting across from Mr. Vanilla aka Bray. He never gave me his first name. It was only after he pissed me off and I started calling him Mr. Vanilla did he ask me why I called him that. But they had poked fun at the way I looked. I know it was childish of me, but I wanted to do the same to him. So I told him “Because you couldn’t be more plain and boring if you tried.” That’s when he informed me he was Mr. Spencer. When he got no response from me on that, he added, “Mr. Spencer as in Spencer Holding, the man who owns this whole goddamn building.” This still got nothing more from me than an eye roll. Like I give a shit.

I look over at the other man, and he looks just as put together as Bray. That guy seems more laid back, with a smile playing at his lips. He’s attractive, but not as handsome as Bray. I’m starting to think no one is.

“I can be some entertainment for the right price…if that’s what you’re looking for. It turns out I’m in the market for a new job,” I say, shooting Mr. Vanilla a hard look before turning back to the other man and winking.

“Is that right? I’d be more than willing to help out a woman in need,” he says as he adjusts himself. I’m not a promiscuous girl. In fact, I’m a virgin. But I know how to use my body to get what I want. A little flirting can go a long way to get things when you need them. I’m not holding on to my virginity, I just never had a reason or desire to give it up. I don’t think I ever felt attraction until I met Bray. Then he reminded me he’s just like the rest.