16. Deanna
DEANNA
Ispend the weekend with my parents and it’s… fine, actually.
My dad barely knows I’m there and my mother doesn’t mention the fact that I moved out. The full-time nurse helps a lot, and for the first time in years, the house is shockingly clean, my mother’s on top of her medications, and my father seems comfortable.
There’s almost nothing for me to do.
I’m not used to feeling like a guest in that house.
Come Monday, I’m back in the office. Prime’s calendar is full of site inspections, negotiations, and investor meetings. He’s not around which is probably for the best. I lose myself in work, but start to notice a few strange things as the hours slip past.
First, there’s the women’s room. Whenever I go in, everyone immediately stops talking to each other, or they do their best to finish and get out.
In the break room, a couple of the sales guys are overly deferential to me to the point that it’s embarrassing.
And later, in the hall, I bumped into a girl that works in the accounting department, and she basically fell to her knees to beg my forgiveness.
It nags at me all day, the way my coworkers behave. I’ve always been set apart from them because of my job. It’s the nature of being Prime’s personal assistant. Everyone sees me as an extension of the boss. But now it’s like I’ve graduated to another level and it’s impossible to ignore.
Prime surprises me by coming back to the office around three with David Sorensen in tow. They’re loudly talking and laughing about some show they both like and it’s clear they had a few drinks with lunch. I give them some privacy before knocking politely and letting myself in.
David looks back and breaks out in a grin. “Well there she is. I keep meaning to congratulate you.” He comes over and gives me a tight hug. “Married to the big boss. I have to admit, it was a surprise, but we’re happy for you both.”
I catch Prime’s angry look and ignore it. “Thanks, David. I hear you and Mr. Spadaro have been very busy lately?”
David throws back his head and howls. “Mr. Spadaro! You’re his wife, I think you can call him Prime.”
“In the office, he’s my boss.”
“What a weird situation! No, it’s all good, except for his boss stealing my van. Did you tell her about that, Prime? After the delivery—“ He cuts off abruptly. Prime’s expression is pure rage, shocking in its intensity. David’s jaw clicks he stops talking so fast.
“We don’t need to discuss any of that.” Prime nods at the door. “I think you were just leaving.”
David backs away. “Right, absolutely. Prime, it was good getting lunch, let’s do it again. And congrats again, Deanna.” He practically runs out of the office. I watch him go before closing the door and turning on my husband.
Silence falls on the room. Prime thumbs at his phone acting like I left too. I let him play pretend as I approach his desk.
“What the hell was that about?” I ask as calmly and quietly as I can.
Prime grunts. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
“What did he mean, your boss? You don’t have a boss.”
“Deanna, let it go.”
“And what’s David delivering? He’s an investor.”
“I’m warning you.”
“And Ricardo said something odd. He mentioned you two are in the same business, but he works with insurance and you’re in parking lots and real estate.”
Prime slams his hand down on the desk. I jump in surprise and take a step back. His shoulders are bunched and tension ripples down from his jaw.
“Let it go.”
My heart races wildly. I’m not afraid of Prime. I don’t think he’d hurt me. But there are moments where I see another side of him, a terrible darkness, like that layer of ice he keeps as armor is actually a prison for a monster much, much worse.
He’s hiding something from me, but now isn’t the time to press. Instead, I abruptly change the subject.
“People are treating me differently and I don’t like it.”
I think the sudden shift gives him an excuse to back down. He relaxes. “How’s that?”
“Everyone’s being bizarre.” I tell him about the hallway, the bathroom, the breakroom. “It’s like they’re afraid of me.”
He looks amused. The monster is safely caged again. “You didn’t stop to think what would happen if you married the boss?”
“They’ve always kept me apart. I mean, I’m your assistant, but this is even worse.”
“Can you blame them?”
“Yes!”
“No, I know, I get it.” I knead my shoulder. “I’d do the same if I were them.”
His eyes stray to my chest and he nods for me to come closer. “Let me help.”
“It’s fine, just a knot.”
“Come here, Deanna, and let me work it out.”
I shiver at the demanding, bossy tone. “You can be pushy sometimes.”
“Stop talking. Get your pretty ass over here.”
I reluctantly obey, mostly because I feel a headache coming on and this might actually help.
He sits against his desk and I lean back into him as his fingers slowly rub my shoulders and back, finding spots of tension I didn’t even know were there.
He’s very skilled at massaging me, and soon I forget that I wasn’t even into the idea to begin with.
“That feels really good,” I say with a low sigh as he grinds his thumb into a particularly difficult spot.
“You’re holding too much stress.”
“Can you blame me? This whole company is on my shoulders.”
“No, baby, it isn’t. Only the parts you see.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
His hands pause, but he quickly resumes. “It doesn’t mean anything. My tongue gets loose when you’re around, that’s all.”
“I noticed the other night.”
He chuckles, low and sensual. “Now we’re joking about it?”
“No reason to pretend like it didn’t happen.”
“I like that. But tell me, why did you run away this weekend?”
“I wasn’t running. Just wanted to spend time with my parents.”
“Good. You should.”
“Prime? What are we going to do about our work situation?”
“You’ll stay on as my assistant.” His body shifts, pressing closer to me. I feel him on my ass and I don’t bother telling him to move. He’s still massaging and that’s all I care about.
“I can’t, not forever.”
“No, we’ll find a replacement eventually. But for now, I need you.”
“I know you do.” I say it like a joke.
“I’m serious, Deanna, I really need you.” His voice is low and there’s a trembling, sharp note of neediness and hunger. It sends a chill pulse between my legs.
“I’m not going anywhere. You’re my meal ticket, right?”
“And you’re my meal.”
“Prime…” I sigh.
I want to ask him a dozen questions. There are so many inconsistencies. Small things I’ve noticed over the years but that I’ve been good about ignoring. Meetings off the books, strangers hanging around, and now this business with David and Ricardo and everything else.
How does he have so much money? I know what he makes every year, give or take. The lots and other properties are lucrative, but they don’t even remotely account for the amount he willingly spends and everything he promises he’ll keep providing.
He’s hiding from me. I can see it, the way he deflects whenever I want to bring it up. He distracts and dodges and weaves, and I can’t pin him down. Who did I marry? And what does he really need?
His lips find the back of my neck.
But I step forward, smiling as I do it. “Thanks for the massage.” I roll my shoulders. “That really helped.”
“Leaving already?”
“One of us has to keep busy.”
“Don’t drown in work, baby.” He slinks back to his chair and slumps into it, watching as I march back across his office. “See you at home.”
I’m too aware of him as I escape, heart pattering quickly, confusion and doubt slipping into my mind.
I have a thousand questions, but I’m sure about one thing: there’s no way I’ll like the answers.