7. Lissa
Lissa
Ican’t get out of the office fast enough. The strange, oppressive atmosphere that seemed to cling to me like a second skin fades as soon as I close the door.
I let out a breath I wasn’t aware I was holding. Looking up, I expect to see Adelaide, but her chair is neatly tucked beneath her desk, and she’s nowhere to be found.
My stomach jumps at the thought. The man is absolutely enormous. How big is his cock going to be?
Rubbing my sweating palms over my skirt, I walk to the desk where I had been waiting, glancing around self-consciously. I was worried I may have left something there.
Is there anyone else even on this floor?
It’s so quiet. I’m guessing during the day it’s bustling with activity, but there isn’t a sound from anywhere.
As I pass down the hallway back toward the elevators, I peer through the glass panels of some of the offices. There are people in a few, but the rest are empty. The staff who are still around look young, like junior lawyers.
I reach the elevator and press the ground-floor button as my phone buzzes.
Pulling it out of my bag, I see a notification from my bank. Five thousand dollars has just been deposited in my account. I stare at it in disbelief.
Five grand? For sitting in a chair for five minutes?
I glance back down the hall at Mr. Heath’s door, but there’s no sign of him coming out. As I step into the elevator, I scroll through my contacts until I reach Sterling House and hit call. A secretary answers immediately and puts me through to Pippa.
“Hey,” she says happily. “I just got off the phone with Oliver. He’s pleased, well done.”
“Uh… I thought the interview was unpaid.”
“No. Usually, our clients use this as an initial deposit.”
“It was five grand.”
There is a small pause. “Yes, that’s fairly standard.”
Standard?
“But I didn’t do anything.”
“Define anything,” Pippa says, sounding amused.
“I sat in a chair, answered his questions, and then left.”
Another pause. “Well, I can double-check with him to make sure it’s not a mistake, if you like?”
“I doubt he makes mistakes,” I say automatically, and Pippa chuckles.
“You’ve already got him figured out, I see. Don’t worry about it, Lissa. He’s going to pay you in a way that he’s comfortable with, and that’s what matters. I hope he explained his needs to you, but if you ever have any issues, worries, or concerns at all, don’t hesitate to call me.”
“I will, thanks."
“I hope this will be an exciting new chapter for you. Try to enjoy yourself, okay?”
Then she hangs up. I pull the phone away from my ear as I descend in the elevator, reaching the ground floor and stepping out. The lobby is loud and unpleasant after the quiet of the eighteenth floor, and I take a moment to observe the world moving around me and think about what Pippa just said.
Do I not usually look like I’m enjoying myself?
I know that Bethany loves this job. She has told me so many times. Only occasionally has she had a client she disliked, and she walked away from those situations without a second thought. Her last client took her to Bali with him, and they had sex nonstop for three weeks.
But Bethany has an incredible sex drive. I don’t. Not really…
I can’t even remember the last time I touched myself in that way, and by the end of our marriage, James would only have sex with me when he was pissed off.
I close my eyes, shuddering at the memory. He never forced himself on me, but the sex wasn’t loving or pleasurable. He would just use me like a hole to fuck and then pull out, never thinking about my pleasure at all. Sex became a thing I hated.
How the fuck am I going to do this convincingly? And why would he want someone like me for this job? He's incredibly hot with tons of money, probably… he could certainly have any woman he wants.
Clenching my fist, I place my phone in my bag and walk through the lobby and out into the sunshine. It’s a beautiful, bright day, and there’s a raised square of bricks in front of the office filled with crocuses and daffodils. The happy little flowers lift my mood.
Five thousand dollars. Holy shit.
I check the time. I have about half an hour until I need to pick up Henry, and there’s a store not too far away that I know sells cheap women’s clothing. I don’t want to splurge on anything or spend money that I need for Henry on myself, but I can’t keep borrowing clothes from Bethany.
On the way, I pass a designer store with a beautiful pale-pink suit in the window. I stare up at it longingly and then walk on by. One day, maybe, but not right now. My son is my priority, and for the first time, I feel a thread of hope that everything might just be okay.
The following morning, I arrive at the office with a spring in my step. When I picked up Henry from the sitter’s house the night before, we went to McDonald's. I had a very happy boy, snuggled up on my lap, for the rest of the evening. He adores their milkshakes.
Soon, I’ll need to think seriously about his nutrition and make sure I’m feeding him the kind of food that will support his recovery, but last night we both needed a treat.
The clothes I bought only cost a couple hundred dollars, but that still felt like an extravagance.
The store I’d chosen was cheap as hell, and I know I won’t measure up to the other employees in the firm.
Still, I refuse to spend a lot on my own appearance.
It’s not like anyone, other than Mr. Heath, will care.
Besides, I anticipate a lack of clothes where he’s concerned. My stomach clenches, and I try to push away the dread that rises within me.
The pale gray suit I’m wearing fits me well, and, thankfully, the petite fit is exactly the right length. Most women would find the sleeves too short, but for me they’re perfect.
It’s just before 8 am when I arrive on the floor and walk to the desks, expecting to be the only person there. When I turn the little corner, I stop, surprised to find Adelaide already sitting at her desk.
She’s wearing another lilac suit, with a bright pink ruffled shirt beneath it, with horrible, blocky heels tucked under her chair.
She looks up in amazement as I come around the corner.
“Goodness,” she says, removing the purple, horn-rimmed spectacles on the end of her nose and dropping them onto her chest. “You’re early.”
“Mr. Heath mentioned I should get here by 9, but I dropped my son off early at school so I could get a handle on things.”
Adelaide’s expression doesn’t change as she rises and points to my desk. It’s already stacked with paperwork.
“Sorry to throw you in the deep end, but there’s a large conference call in two days, and we need to get everything prepped.
There are two parties in the claim, and both must receive identical sets of paperwork.
You’ll need to put everything in date-and-time order into the files I’ve provided, then check through them.
We need to redact one of the names, as well, which is tedious work, but the client has requested hard copies. ”
“No problem.”
She raises her eyebrows, pursing her lips. “How did it go yesterday?”
“Good, I think. He just told me that I need to do whatever you need me to.”
Adelaide gives a twitch of a smile. “Yes, he always says that. The last woman who came here did not want to be given instructions by me.”
“You won’t have any trouble there, I’m happy to do whatever you need me to,” I say earnestly and go to stand behind the desk. “Is this a divorce case?” I ask, reviewing the top email from one of the client’s legal teams.
“Yes. Mr. Heath works primarily with high-profile divorce settlements. There may be several calls today regarding the meeting, but I’d be grateful if you could transfer them to me at least for now, while you figure out what you’re doing.
Let me show you the archive and introduce you to the two people back there. ”
I follow her down the silent hallway to a room at the very end, where a small kitchen backs onto an archive space with a long, curved desk on one wall. Shelves of files stretch back several feet in every direction.
Adelaide introduces me to Paul and Renee, the administrators who work the archive on this floor. The hierarchy is obvious, and Renee runs the show, ordering Paul around as she works.
They chatter back and forth, sharing stories about lawyers messing up their filing systems without permission, but the message comes through loud and clear.
All requests go through them, and I shouldn’t ever try to retrieve a file by myself.
They joke about a few of the lawyers by name, but neither of them mentions Mr. Heath.
Once I am back at my desk, I dive into the work, finding it pleasingly calming. The emails and documents are jumbled into several piles, and I carefully place them into the relevant folders, ensuring that both copies are identical.
I like this type of work; it quiets my mind and takes me out of myself. I’m halfway through one folder when I hear Adelaide huff irritably under her breath.
“Are you going to answer that?”
I look up, startled, as I hear the persistent buzzing from my bag.
“Sorry, I thought I had it on silent,” I say, embarrassed that I hadn’t heard it, immersed in an email chain that was in the wrong order.
Grabbing my phone, my heart sinks as I see my sitter’s number on the screen. Henry’s at school until 4 pm, when she’s supposed to pick him up, but she never calls me unless there’s a problem. Of course, it would be on my first day.
Rising, I walk quickly down the hall to the kitchen.
“Hi Jenna,” I say, “everything okay?”
“Hi Lissa, I’m really sorry to call. I know you’ve just started your new job today, but my mom has had a fall. I need to go to the hospital to see her. She was found by the mailman, and she’s really upset. My brothers are both out of town.”
“Oh God,” I say, feeling a surge of guilt as my first emotion is extreme irritation.
Jenna is usually reliable, but lately she’s let me down a lot. This can’t be helped, and it’s not her fault, but if I have to pick up Henry, I need to leave on my first day two hours early.
Fuck.
“Alright, you go and do what you need to do, okay? Is she alright?”
“She hit her hip pretty hard, but there’s nothing broken. It shouldn’t be a problem for the rest of the week, but I just have to go check on her. I’m really sorry. Is the job going okay?”
“It’s going fine. Don’t worry about me. See to your mom, and I’ll talk to you later.”
“Thanks, Lissa. Sorry again.”
Hanging up, I stare helplessly at my phone, not knowing what to do at first. Finally, I call Bethany. She’s the only person who might be able to help on short notice.
“Hey, Liss,” she says, answering immediately. “You okay?”
Her voice is full of concern, and I smile affectionately into the phone. “I’m fine. But I need a favor.”
“What’s up?”
“Are you in the country?” I ask. “You’re not jetting across the Atlantic right now, are you?”
Beth snorts. “Uh. No. I wish. I’m in New York. Is everything okay?”
“My sitter can’t work today.”
“Again?”
“Her mother had a fall.”
Bethany sighs heavily. “Jesus, there’s always something going on with her.”
“I know. So she can’t pick Henry up from school. Is there any chance you could help? I wouldn’t ask, but it’s my first day and…”
“Of course. I can get off early. I’ve already got him off this morning, so he should be in a good mood. What time?”
“Around four, three thirty if you want to take him for ice cream somewhere.”
“Okay, you’re speaking my language now. I’ll get him at three thirty, that’s fine.”
“Are you sure? You’re a lifesaver.”
“How’s the Heath job going?”
“Fine. Nothing has happened so far, I’m just doing a bunch of filing.”
“You’re okay, though? Has he been nice to you?”
“Yes. I mean, he doesn’t really seem nice exactly, but he’s… fine.”
“Hm, okay. I know he needs you there until six, don’t rush away just because Hen’s with me, we’ll go back to your place and wait.”
“Thanks, Beth.”
“No problem. Remember what I said.”
“What’s that?”
“If he suggests something you don’t want to do, you walk away.”
How much does Beth actually know about Oliver Heath?
“I will.”
Once I am back at my desk, Adelaide doesn’t ask me what the call was about, and I don’t elaborate. I wonder whether she has any kids herself, but the waspish expression on her face doesn’t fill me with hope, so I get back to work.
The day goes slowly, and the filing becomes more tedious, but by 5 pm I’ve almost finished one folder and started on the next.
Adelaide doesn’t say much as she leaves, nodding to me and hooking her lilac bag over her shoulder.
How much purple clothing does the woman own?
I close the folder, glancing at the clock, a rush of nerves rippling through me. They’ve been building all afternoon, but now they’re beginning to really take hold.
I don’t know what he’s going to expect of me, or whether I’m going to make it through more than one day. What if he’s really into sex and uses terms I don’t understand? Will he think I’m an idiot?
I try not to think about James anymore or compare what I’m about to do to our time together, but it’s almost impossible to separate the two. He was my first boyfriend, and my last. I’ve never had sex with anyone else.
At the start of our relationship, sex was great; I enjoyed it, but it never blew my mind. It was the same thing most times and felt good, and that was enough for me because I loved him so intensely.
That feels like a million years ago.
On the corner of my desk, a little green light suddenly glows. It’s the same setup as Adelaide’s, but green instead of orange. I stare at it, my mouth going dry as I stand, checking my appearance before I go in.
I feel like Daniel being thrown into the lion’s den as I head to the door.