8. Pearl
Pearl
Iset my stuff down on my desk as I stewed.
Emerson wanted to control my every move, and then she didn’t give a shit.
I was not allowed to walk alone when I’d been doing it for years, but then I could do whatever I wanted.
I mean, could she pick a lane and stick to it?
And can you make up your mind too? Because you want to do your thing, but then you get all pissed off when she lets you go instead of demanding you stay.
And I hadn’t even been thinking about sex. Until she brought it up. As if it hadn’t been enough that she’d been in my room choosing the clothes she wanted me to wear while I showered last night and hadn’t even tried to come in.
Just imagining her barging into the bathroom had me hot and bothered.
Which only made it—and her—even more infuriating.
But I still wore the clothes she picked anyway.
After getting acquainted with some of the people and reading some of the HR paperwork, and even as annoyed as I was at Emerson this morning, I had to admit the job she gave me was pretty comfy.
My desk was just outside her office, and I had my very own computer. Totally new, and the newest model—one I’d never been able to afford. I made a mental note to buy one tonight and have it shipped to Emerson's house. It would definitely make a difference with my classes starting.
The walls of her office were all made of glass, so I allowed my eyes to glance at Emerson in her element. Whenever she needed privacy, she would darken the glass.
Emerson was exactly like I thought she would be at work. She took charge, ignored most people, and for those who dared come close, it was like she had this aura about her that scared people away.
Surprisingly, that didn’t work with her immediate team. They weren't scared of her.
Funnily enough, even though she was a bully to me, she never scared me either.
It was nice to see Emerson in her groove. I didn't know much about office jobs, but some of the emails I’d read so far had been shocking.
Millions of dollars spent in contracts with people I’d never heard of but that, after researching them, I realized were richer than Emerson and all her companies combined.
She had connections. She had deals in the works up to five years in advance. The scale of everything was beyond my understanding.
It made me realize how much of a fish out of water I really was.
The job itself was simple, but everything behind it, including Emerson, was stress-inducing.
My eyes lingered on her again. The VP of Finance, Cristian, was inside talking to her like he was an old friend. She looked up at him with a bored expression, but I could see the slight twist of her lips every so often.
She really isn't the same girl I knew back then, and I’m so happy for her.
Because I knew what she’d been through. Even though she probably had no idea I did.
I watched the way her father treated her.
I could never bring it up with her for several reasons. I was afraid of how she’d react, of course, and if her cutting words toward me could become even worse, especially since I’d have to tell her that I followed her sometimes and witnessed the abuse.
But mostly… Because it seemed to me that it would be more painful if she realized someone else knew, and she’d been through enough pain already. Making her relive it? And with little old me? I couldn't think of a worse hell for her.
And yet, I’d never been able to forget. Or to regret not doing something about it.
The scene was engraved in my mind.
The muffled sound of punches and kicks played from behind the dumpster. I paused when I heard it, my heart dropping into my stomach.
I knew what was going on. It wasn't the first time I had heard it, but this would be the first time I’d see it.
Our schedules lined up, so I followed her home, but she didn’t go there. She went to meet her father at some random shop. But she never made it inside.
“I told you to bring it!”
“No, you fucking didn’t! Don't think just because you're drunk you can—”
“Wanna talk back to me, huh?”
“Fuck off!”
I leaned over the corner just in time to see Emerson be thrown to the ground and her father place his foot on her throat. I could tell the side of her eye was getting swollen, and she likely wouldn't be showing up to school for the next few days.
There were rumors going around that this happened all the time. He was probably careful about not giving her any obvious bruises, but he seemed out of control now.
I ducked back around the corner. Should I call the cops? Would they take her dad away? Would he come back? Would he give her a worse beating if he did?
Would he end up killing her?
Fuck. How could I go up against him if Emerson herself couldn't do it?
But when I turned back around, I realized that it wasn't that Emerson couldn’t. She… didn't want to.
She lay there as he kicked her side, unmoving. Her eyes were focused on the sky.
Tears escaped my eyes.
I couldn't fathom how anyone on earth could hurt Emerson like that.
Unable to control my sobs, I forced myself to leave Emerson. Alone.
“I'll pick something up for you!” Cristian said as he left her office. The suddenness of his voice had me snapping back to reality.
There were many things I regretted about my high school years, and not being strong enough to help Emerson was at the top of the list. But looking back at her now, I was proud. She rose above it. She became the person she was always meant to be. She left all that behind.
I looked up at Cristian and gave him a smile as he walked toward me.
He was overall a happy-go-lucky guy, which was probably strange as a VP, but it was like a breath of fresh air compared to the snotty manager and entitled customers I had to serve at the restaurant on a daily basis.
“Wanna come to lunch with us?”
He’s asking me?
My knee-jerk reaction was to refuse. Painful memories of what happened in college came back, no matter how hard I tried to push them down.
Don't get close to anyone else, or you know what will happen.
It's your fault.
You did this.
I tried to force the thoughts away. It's not like that. He's gone now.
My eyes flashed to Emerson's office, where she was typing away at her computer.
“I'm guessing… Emerson doesn't want to go?” I asked, hesitating slightly, still unsure if I was supposed to use her first name, but Cristian didn’t bat an eye.
“Nah, she doesn't usually like to come with us,” he said. “She's very strict on boundaries and all that.”
I nodded and asked Cristian for a couple of minutes to get my things. Then, I texted Emerson through the internal messaging platform.
P. Meadows
Do you need me to do anything before I clock out for lunch?
She didn't even look up at me before she typed back.
E. Blackwell:
Go ahead.
I hesitated, almost wishing she’d have refused only because it meant that I would have to socialize.
The easiest thing to do would be to hide in the shadows. Say no. And hopefully they would never ask me again.
But I should be trying different things, right?
I was going back to school. I had been auctioned off at a BDSM club and was a million dollars richer—give or take. I was Emerson's personal sex toy. Was going to lunch with coworkers really that big of a deal?
It suddenly didn't seem like it.
“Let's go.”
“Isn't she cute?” Leslie asked as she showed me the lock screen on her phone while we were waiting for our number to be called at a local sandwich shop.
It was a cute baby with two pigtails on top of her head and striking blue eyes.
“Adorable,” I said with a smile. “How old is she?”
“Just over a year,” Leslie replied, beaming with pride. “It's hard leaving her, but I have to remind myself how lucky I was to get a full year of maternity leave. Not all companies are like that.”
“I didn't know Emerson was so…”
“Generous?” she provided. “I know, I never expected it either.
And she gave me full pay. Crazy. She looks like a hard-ass, but she cares a lot about her employees.
I mean, when Cristian got sick and was out for a month, he had full pay and his job waiting for him when he came back, no questions asked.
She didn't even consider replacing him. Just took all the work herself.”
I looked over at Cristian as he laughed with another guy who had been introduced to me as the marketing director.
Emerson is full of surprises.
“I just thought that since all her other assistants were fired—”
“She has really bad luck with them,” Leslie said with a grimace. “She was especially harsh to her assistants, but if you ask me, I think all of them had it coming.”
I let myself digest the information. I wanted to ask for more, but I didn’t want to seem too eager. It wouldn't be the first time that the Internet got it wrong or that the rumors against a powerful woman in charge were used to bring her down.
Unfortunately, all that Leslie managed to do was make me want Emerson more. It would be easier if she was still a bully and somewhat of an asshole.
But she wasn’t. Maybe she never had been.
I used to daydream about a world where Emerson would look at me with something other than rejection. Where she would tell me that she felt the same way I did.
Even today, after the club and last night, I knew it wasn’t like that. Emerson saw me as an annoyance and as a sex toy that would do anything she wanted it to.
And that worked for part of me. The one who couldn't believe she was good for anything else.
The other part of me was still a dreamer, though. And while we were at home together, fucking each other, I could pretend it was real.
At that point, I made up my mind and went back to the counter to add one more sandwich to my order before going back to chat with Leslie.
I jumped as my number was called and quickly grabbed the to-go container. I'd been so lost in my own mind I hadn’t even noticed they had called me multiple times.
I paused and turned to my new coworkers, who were all looking at me.
“I'm bringing this back to Emerson and will likely eat with her. You guys enjoy. Thanks for the invite!”
They shared a look before sending me a smile.
“Go on!”
“We'll sit down together next time!”
With one last look at them, I left the shop and hurried back to the office.
Emerson was still in the same spot, though the office was empty now. She didn't even look up as I moved to my desk, so involved in whatever she was typing on her computer.
I hope her skipping lunch isn’t the norm.
I knocked on her door, her gaze snapping up to me then, lingering for a moment before she motioned me to come in.
“Let’s not forget to eat, boss,” I said as I opened the door. She pushed a button on the side of her desk, and the glass around us darkened.
We were truly alone at that moment.
“I didn't ask for you to get me food,” she said as I pulled out both our lunches.
“What kind of assistant would I be if I let my boss go hungry?” I sat down and opened my box.
She looked at my container for far longer than I expected before finally pushing her computer aside and opening hers.
“Did you ask for—”
“No pickles, light mayonnaise, extra avocado.”
For a moment, I thought I saw a smile pull at her lips.
“Should I ask how you know that?”
“A girl never spills her secrets. As I’m sure you know.” I sent her a wink.
In reality, I had looked through previous emails and correspondence with her other assistants. Her lunch order was easy enough to remember.
Knowing Emerson cared about her employees and what a hard worker she was, staying later than the others and often showing up earlier as well, put me at ease.
We ate our lunch in silence for a few moments.
“So… Do you think you can do it?”
I gave her a look.
“I think you’re underestimating me,” I said before taking another bite of my sandwich.
“I think you’re underestimating what the job entails.”
I raised a brow at her.
“Emails, getting lunch, attending meetings? If you’re worried about that, you must really think little of me—”
“Take your panties off.”