13
Dance Devil Dance
Amanda
Sunday passes, and I wish I could say it was quiet. Sadly, that’s not my life anymore. I spend all day on my phone with lawyers, and the drama begins.
Every single lawyer’s office I call can’t accept me. There’s some kind of law that states if the opposite party in a divorce has spoken to the office, they can’t accept the other side as a client. The first two, I thought were flukes. I’m just going down a list I pulled up on my phone, and the expensive places are first.
I change tacks and start calling from the bottom up. They all say the same thing. Some are apologetic. Others tell me I waited too long and call me an idiot without saying it outright. I even try calling one of Loser’s lawyer friends for advice but get laughed at.
The counties around this area all say the same thing. Even the one that I had a free consultation with at the very beginning of this mess is too busy to take me on. By six at night I’ve given up, which is a good thing because my phone stops dialing out.
I have that panic attack of, "Oh God, what will I do?” before I get it together. I try to use someone else’s phone. It’s a waste because no one answers their door, and Manny doesn’t have one.
I end up at the landlord’s office on the first floor. The smug smile he gives me while he watches me wait on hold gives me the creeps. Somehow, he’s worse than the last guy. He’s just not as obvious about his sleazy behavior.
My phone service was cut off without notice, just like that. I know who did it without being told.
I knew I should have gotten a new service provider, but I kept pushing it off. Now that I’ve been wallowing in self-pity and haven’t heard back from any jobs, I’m down on funds enough that a new plan seems impossible.
At least I still have my music on this paperweight.
I’m hanging up with a weak thank you to the skeezy landlord when he clears his throat.
“We’re being bought up. Did you know that?”
I frown at him in concern. Someone is buying this crappy complex? For real? I don’t think I can afford a hike in rent.
“Going to change everything up from top to bottom.”
“Like fixing the elevator?” I ask hopefully. Yeah, it’s good exercise, but some days, I just don’t want to.
“Like new complex and tenants.”
“What?” I gape at him.
This place is the only cheap housing near the Matthias building. Unless he gives me a gigantic raise, I’m screwed. Not to mention the other fifty people that live here.
“Yeah,” he gives me a grin that makes my skin crawl. One of his front teeth is crooked and yellow. “Mr. Blake says this side of town needs a facelift.”
My face pales as I wobble in my flip-flops.
He can’t, can he? What the hell is going on?
My mind flashes to the highlighted paperwork at the Matthias building. All property purchases. He isn’t in that field. He’s never mentioned it and there’s no way we would have the money for that. Is he pimping himself out now?
“You pissed off a rich guy, and now all the people here are going to be homeless. As soon as the purchase goes through I’m handing these out.”
He casually slides a red sheet of paper across the desk for me to see.
It’s an eviction notice. Effective immediately. That can’t be legal.
“Why?” I mutter helplessly. “That’s insane.”
It’s one thing to take his anger out on me, but this is extreme.
“You trashed a man’s car and somehow got the cops to drop charges. What did you think would happen? That he’d let it go?”
“The cops?” I look at him, bewildered. I haven’t had anyone contact me about the police looking for me.
He looks at me like I’m an idiot and nods slowly. “They show up and take down a report and then magically get a call to leave it alone? Ringing any bells?”
Yeah. Warning bells. I’m just not sure who they’re ringing for. Loser definitely. Mr. Matthias? But why would he call off the cops? The guy hates me. And he claims he isn’t mafia. Manny avoids the cops like the plague. Who could do that? And why?
I’m up for half the night thinking about it all and end up with more questions than I started with.
I’m a bedraggled mess when my alarm goes off for work. I don’t even care. They can deal with it. I have bigger problems and no idea how to wade my way through them.
I wear jeans and a T-shirt, with tennis shoes that have seen better days. I pack my lunch out of habit, basically going through the motions on autopilot. I shove all the letters into my purse and then start walking.
I’m dragging when I walk through the doors at Matthias. I have my depressing sack lunch, my sad cup of coffee, and my mopey bad attitude with me. The fact that I’m wearing jeans should be a celebration. Especially when Harriette sees me and raises a judgy eyebrow.
I pass by and go straight to Sarah’s desk. I only take two highlighters—enough that she knows they’re missing but not where they’ve gone. Then I enter the filing room.
Cade is there with a box filled to the brim with files. I take the sight in with a frown. He’s bent over, so I get a nice view of his butt. I take my time appreciating it since he can’t see me. He straightens and the bubble of dreaminess shatters when I take in his scowling face.
And the black eye he can’t hide. It’s yellow around the edges so he’s had it long enough it’s healing. But the swelling isn’t pretty, and the stark black in the corner of his eye looks painful.
Whoever did that deserves a medal.
My mood takes a step up as I try to remain blank-faced.
“You’re upstairs with us today,” he says warily as he lifts the box and leaves the room. He’s watching me the entire time like I’m about to assault him. Did he get hit in the face by a lady’s purse? That’s epic.
My mood steps back down when I really take in what he said. Do I have to be upstairs with this plethora of dicks? This raise better be life-altering.
“Why? I’m highlighting, not going through blueprints to plan a heist.” I glare at his back. He catches me as his head snaps toward me.
“It’s sensitive information. It was never supposed to be down here,” he sneers at me. “Just come on.”
How is that my fault? This guy just finds shit to be mad about.
And the day gets worse. Already. I thought it was bad before. Now, I just want to whine about everything. As if I wasn’t before.
My feet scuff along the floor as I follow him, trying not to talk to myself. Or yell at him. That would be more therapeutic, but then he’d talk back. Nobody wants to hear that. I’d rather pretend he doesn’t exist, and he can do me the same favor.
I watch him juggle the heavy box to swipe his card. The glare he sends me makes me smile at him sweet enough to give diabetes. Was I supposed to offer to hold that or swipe the card for him? Too bad.
We’re silent as the elevator ascends, angry tension building between us. I know why I’m mad. I’m going to be stuck in a room with this douche canoe all day. Which means his spirit twin, Jake, will be there. I have a right to be grumpy for more than that, too.
What’s his problem? Oh wait, I’m breathing. Of course, he’s upset.
The thought makes me chuckle quietly and earns me a dark look that makes it even better. If he keeps acting like this, I’m going to have a great time thinking up one-liners to throw at him to piss him off. I wonder if I can get him to rage-quit.
He ruins it when he clears his throat.
My shoulders stiffen because the loud sound is clearly asking for my attention. I keep my eyes trained on the numbers above me and sip my coffee with an obnoxious slurp. I take my time with it to make it even more annoying and sigh loudly in satisfaction when I’m done.
As soon as I’m quiet again, he says, “I wanted to apologize.”
Does he now. I call bullshit on that.
When I don’t respond, his voice gets a little louder. “I’m sorry. I had my reasons for wanting you out of the class. Your health is one of them.”
I take another slurp of coffee in the hopes that he’ll shut up. I’m not accepting his apology or his bullshit reasoning. If he was concerned for my health, he could have said that. Maybe even, gasp , helped me understand what had him concerned? I think it was obvious I had no idea what I was doing there.
I almost want to go back just to prove he didn’t succeed in driving me away.
Nah. I’m a Jefferson, but I can pick my fights.
“You could make this easier by not acting stuck up.”
I blink in surprise, the numbers hazing as anger rears its ugly head. I’m stuck up? For a second, I actually listen to what he said and take it seriously. Then I shove that nonsense down where it belongs. He can think what he wants about me. The more he runs his mouth the more convinced I am he’s like Loser.
“I tried,” he says snidely as the doors open for him to storm away from me. I’m tempted to stay on the elevator and let it take me right back down again. I have enough problems. I don’t need to put up with this shit.
The receptionist clears her throat pointedly at me and jerks her chin towards Cade. The clear get your butt out of the elevator motion makes the urge to leave even worse.
Then, the big guard appears with his arms crossed and a no-nonsense stare. His mere presence cows me into a whining kid immediately. He hasn’t even said anything. The clear disapproval in his expression makes my shoulders slump, and my eyes drop to the floor. That is a man I don’t want to be pissed at me. Especially since he’s the nice one, and he hasn’t been a complete jackass to me. Plus, he’s cute in a giant man way.
I shuffle until I reach Cade where he’s waiting with the box. He gives me a pointed look and looks at the knob.
I slurp my coffee and give him a vacant stare.
The guard clears his throat from behind me and I almost break. Almost.
Fight picked, and I’m a Jefferson. It’s on.
Cade’s eyes narrow on me and mine do the same. A tumbleweed needs to blow through for this.
“All that exercise, and you can’t handle a little box?” I say sweetly.
His lips flatten out angrily as the guard clears his throat again. It’s more pointed this time. If I don’t turn around, I can just pretend he isn’t there.
I slurp my coffee again.
“Fuck, fine ,” Cade snaps and juggles the box to open the door himself. I’m one step behind him when a firm hand goes to the back of my neck.
The guard holds me still as Cade moves out of the way, leaving me a clear view of Mr. Matthias looking impatient at his desk. Ace is next to him and gives me a wide smile. The view is cut off as the guard calmly reaches for the handle and pulls the door closed with us outside it.
The man just scruffed me like a cat. I’m shocked that it’s actually working. It’s a heavy weight and so warm I feel branded by the touch despite the subtle threat.
I stay quiet, knowing I messed up in his eyes, but refusing to back down. I am not swallowing one more jerk trying to belittle me so he can amuse himself. I’m not going to sit there and pretend it’s ok or waste time wondering what I did to make someone unhappy. That part of me is still struggling, but I’m holding it underwater until it stops.
I’m going to be really disappointed with this lecture. I can already tell. I want him to be the nice one, damn it!
When the insults and threats don’t start, my brows begin to furrow. It’s the only part of my body I can move while his fingers are wrapped around my neck. He’s big enough that his thumb and fingers almost meet. I feel like I’m wearing a loose collar. At least he isn’t squeezing.
“Relax,” he mutters in his gravelly tone. “We’re just giving Cade a minute to let it sink in that you aren’t begging at his feet the second he sees you as a person.”
My eyes widen in surprise as I tilt my head. “He’ll just think the same thing I did. That you’re out here reading me my rights before you toss me down the stairs.”
“I would hope after knowing me this long, he’d realize I wouldn’t say anything if I wanted to throw you down the stairs.”
My imagination takes over from there. But it leads me to another question. “Would you use one hand or two?”
He takes a slow, deep breath and releases it. “One.”
“I can see that happening,” I mutter in a daze. The muscles on this guy are more than a little concerning. I don’t doubt him for a second.
The fingers tighten, raising goosebumps of what should be fear along my arms. Instead, the feeling is almost erotic. Relaxing. A strength I could place all my burdens on and let him carry them.
Whoa. No . This guy and everyone else in there is bad news. Maybe I need to start a dating profile and get back out there. With normal guys that don’t look like they could bench press me.
Then again, the so-called normal guy I married didn’t turn out to be much, either.
His fingers slowly drag away from my neck, and he opens the door for me to go in. I hurry away from him, not bothering to hide my panic. At this point, I’m hoping it looks like he gave me a lecture so I can explain the fear without embarrassing myself.
Mr. Matthias is waiting, spinning a metal pen between his fingers. The cold expression doesn’t relent as he watches me and glances back to see the guard.
“I trust everything is ok?”
No, I need to go home and change my panties.
“Yes,” the guard answers calmly and passes me by.
Oh, he was talking to him.
When Mr. Matthias looks back at my frozen form, an eyebrow rises, and he points to the corner.
A foldable table has been set up in what looks like a hurry. As far away from all of them as it can get. The box Cade was carrying is on top with a folding metal chair beside it. It looks like I’m being punished for something. Maybe my fat mouth. I can understand that.
I’ve had worse jobs. Like a boss that fucked my husband. A diner where I witnessed food fall to the floor and get slapped back on the plate to be served. Metal chair and rickety table? No problem.
Without a word I sit down and pull the pages and a list I made of the names out to set to the side. The two highlighters get arranged, and I grab the first folder to start working. The more I ignore them, the better off I’ll be.
That becomes more difficult as Ace starts muttering, and I try to catch his accent at work. Then Cade starts having a loud conversation with Jake about the type of women he likes and asking for opinions. Jake turns the TV up until it’s stupidly loud.
I wasn’t ready for this at all. My peaceful shut-the-door and block-out-the-world time may be gone, but I have a contingency plan.
I dig in my purse and take out the earbuds I stashed this morning. I figured why not because it wouldn’t be a big deal if he told me to get out. I plan on using my lunch break to send out more resumes. When my music comes on I get back into the zone and work.
My mind drifts over my own problems as bright blue and stupid names become my world.
I could read what I’m looking at but the truth is I don’t want to know. Whatever Loser did to catch these guy’s attention is bad news. One more thing I didn’t notice. Typical. How blind have I been to life?
These are not guys to mess around with. Mr. Matthias says they aren’t mafia, but if they aren’t, what are they? Not nine-to-five guys. Not with one man and four bodyguards. Because that’s what they are, and they aren’t hiding it. This isn’t normal at all, no matter how rich he is. Maybe royalty of some kind, but I doubt it.
I’m shocked they aren’t torturing me for answers to insane questions. Maybe that will come after lunch. If I keep my head down and finish this up, I’ll collect a check and be on my way out.
A body comes into my line of sight, and I startle, looking up quickly.
Ace is in front of me. I hurry to take out one earbud.
“Yes?”
“Oh, darlin’,” he starts chuckling as he shakes his head. “Have you had those in the whole mornin’?”
“It’s only been an hour,” I rebut with a frown.
His brows go up. “It’s one in the afternoon. We’re discussin’ lunch.”
“Ok?” I ask in confusion. I was too busy digesting life to think about eating, but that’s not unusual. “I brought mine.”
“What do you want?” He blatantly ignores me.
“My peanut butter and jelly,” I lie flatly. I move to put the bud back in, and he snatches it out of my hand. “Hey!”
“Did she have permission to wear these, Gabe?” Ace asks in a silky tone that makes me scowl. He keeps eye contact with me, looking pleased at my irritation.
“You’ve been ignoring us all day?” Jake has his arms braced along the back of the couch as he watches me. I turn to look at Mr. Matthias and continue ignoring him. That couch is a no-go zone for me.
“I didn’t,” Matthias reaches out and takes the proffered earbud from Ace when he walks back to the big desk. “Bring me the other one.”
I cross my arms and sit back in mutiny.
“Now, Amanda.”
The snap to his tone startles me, but I hold strong.
“Where’s my please?”
The big guard’s brows go up high on his forehead, and Ace gives me a taunting smile.
“You are an employee. This is your job. I own this company and therefore you. Give it to me.”
Excuse me? He thinks he owns me? This asshole is headed to Blackeye Ville. I haven’t signed anything, so this soul stays where it is!
I flip him both middle fingers with a sweet smile. “Own this, asshole.”
“Ace, get the other one,” he says in a calm, cold tone and opens his desk drawer to drop the one he has inside.
My eyes narrow on Ace as he approaches me.
“I’ll ask ya nice, just this once.” He holds out his hand palm up. “Be sweet for me.”
“You do understand that I don’t have to be here, right?” I ask him, incredulous at this display of toxic masculinity.
“You do have to be here,” Ace says, his smile darkening around the edges. “And there are rules.”
Jake makes a spooky ghost wail noise that brings my frown to a scowl.
“And no one gave me this set of rules beforehand?” I try to find some wiggle room.
“Would you have listened?” Mr. Matthias turns to me with a flat stare. “No headphones.”
My eyes narrow as I think about it. This is like having the toy I snuck in at elementary school taken away until the end of the day. Depending on the rules they lay out, I can find my way around it and be annoying as hell while I do it. It will distract me from the mess I currently live in beautifully.
“What else is on the list, pookie? I’d hate to disappoint you,” I yank the other bud out to give to Ace. He looks disappointed that I gave in. Weirdo. Cade does a confused double-take at the nickname.
“We negotiated casual clothes, but I feel like there should be a stipulation. No excessive skin showing, nothing indecent.”
I look down at my plain blue jeans and shirt, then back at him. I don’t bother adjusting my overly dry tone. “Uh-huh. Is my ankle showing? Are you swooning, fair maiden? Long socks are a must. I’ll write it down. I require the same from you. To keep it PC, of course. We wouldn’t want those pesky human resources rules of sexism , I mean sexual harassment, to apply or anything, would we?”
His eyes narrow, and he snatches the second bud to drop in his desk drawer. Then he closes it and locks it.
“You have issues,” I frown at the excessively aggressive motions. “I thought I was bad, then you came along.”
Cade is staring at me in disbelief. I rub the corner of my eye with my middle finger just for him. His only reaction is to blink.
“I appreciate your timeliness and the fact that you worked quietly.”
Well, that shit’s about to stop. He sounds like someone yanked out a tooth for that sentence to come out.
“So I don’t get earbuds? And I can’t come in dressed like your receptionist.”
He frowns and glances at the big guard curiously.
He returns the look with a baffled single-shoulder shrug.
“She looks great in it,” I say with a disgusted sigh. “Her heels do her butt a lot of favors. Her skirt is pretty short so you shouldn’t look. Her calves are on full display. Since ankles are such a taboo, your brain might implode. The harlot has a single button undone, too. Save yourself.”
My mind drifts into a different space for a second. Are any of those women in the pictures Loser’s employees? Coworkers? If the women in that office are like the ones here, it’s no wonder I was put on the back burner.
No, stop it! I did my best to be a good wife. I subdued everything about myself until I disappeared. Screw that guy. Especially since I’m sitting at a desk getting harassed by these assholes because of him. Not to mention being broke and a million other things.
“Amanda!”
The sharp bark of my name snaps me out of it, and I give Mr. Matthias wide eyes.
“ What? Why are you yelling? Has my sock slipped?”
“You haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you.” The freezing blast of his glare makes my eyes roll.
“I’ve gotten really good at tuning out annoying sounds living in that complex.” Too bad that’s a lie, and his voice is heaven-sent.
His nostrils flare and his cheeks get a ruddy glow as his jaw ticks. “No headphones. No revealing clothes. Have you gotten in contact with a lawyer?”
My expression falls, all my snarky confidence dropping in seconds. “No, I haven’t.”
I don’t care how pissed off he is. I’m not sharing that information with them unless I have to. A trip to the library will help me out a lot. I can look up laws from the computers there. Please let them stay open late.
“So much for wanting a divorce,” he says snidely. Then he pointedly dismisses me, turning his back to talk to everyone else about food. The sudden cold shoulder makes me even madder, not that I needed the help.
What’s wrong with me? I wanted him to leave me alone.
The rest follow his lead, and it’s like I no longer exist in my tiny corner.
I keep my mouth shut and return my attention to my folders. Highlighting is my life for now, and tomorrow, I have plans to enact.