3
Lydia
Mr. Mason’s office was exactly what I would have imagined it to be—everything was big.
Not just because he was the CEO and a billionaire, but because he was big.
His desk was enormous, the chairs and sofa on the side looked higher than normal, and even the door inside, which either led to a bathroom or a closet, looked wider than every other door I’d seen in the building.
It was hard to tell from my height, since everyone taller than me looked the same at some point, but if I had to guess based on what he looked like standing at the door, I’d say he was maybe six-three or four.
He was handsome, which I already knew from the times I saw him from far away on the sixth floor and how some of the women and men talked about him.
They practically swooned when they described his “slightly tousled short black hair and his defined jawline.” Madelyne said he had “rugged features” but was always clean-shaven, which she didn’t like because it made him look too young.
Despite working at the company for nearly a year, I didn’t know anything about him besides his name since it didn’t really matter to my day-to-day work.
I sat in a chair that made me feel like a child, and moved my butt to the edge so my feet wouldn’t dangle in the air. He poured himself something from a thin bar-like table at the side of the room and answered a message on his phone before turning to me.
“She’ll be here in twenty minutes. Do you want a drink?”
I didn’t drink around people I didn’t trust, which meant I didn’t drink around people. I looked past him to the small espresso machine on the table.
“Can I make myself coffee?”
He smiled and took a sip of his drink—whiskey, based on the bottle that was still open. “I’ll make it for you.”
I was grateful. He had his back to me while waiting for the coffee to pour into the small cup, which gave me another minute of feeling like I wasn’t being watched.
“Sugar?”
“No, thank you.” I loved coffee in all of its forms. The only downside to an espresso, though, is that you can’t use it as something to keep you busy since it’s gone in two sips. Still, I felt a little more relaxed when the first bitter sip sent chills up the side of my jaw to the back of my ear.
When I was done, he took the empty cup from my hands and put it near his now-empty glass on a tray.
“Why haven’t I seen you before?” he asked.
Small talk? Passing the time or interrogating?
“I work in the HR department. I was just filling in for Annie today.”
“Are you new?”
I shook my head. “It’ll be a year next month.”
“So why haven’t I seen you before?”
“You have, Mr. Mason. Just like I’m sure you’ve seen thousands of other employees you don’t remember.” I was losing my patience. What was he accusing me of?
“I remember everyone in this building. Maybe not by name, Ms. Davis, but I don’t forget a face. And if you’ve been on the sixth floor for the past year, I would have seen you.”
He leaned back on his desk, somewhat casual in his posture, but his sleeves were now pulled up, and his arms were at his sides, holding the desk.
He was tense, which made me tense. I played with the inside of my ring, twirling the little flower that faced my palm.
On my finger, it looked like a simple silver band, but it had a little flower on top, which I usually turned inward so I could move it easily when I needed to.
The flower could be turned like a screw and removed in case I needed to use the very pointy part that was underneath.
I had learned many years ago to take any advantage I could get in a fight.
That included a pointy stick in my hair, a defense ring on my finger, and sharpened short stiletto nails.
“Mr. Mason, are you accusing me of something? I’m sure you know your own Head of HR? Perhaps we should call Madelyne to confirm my employment here.”
He sighed and folded his arms. “I know you work here. I’ve already looked at your employment records and Madelyne texted me confirming it.”
So why the questions? I just wanted to go home, drink a beer, and read a book.
After a few moments of silence, he moved to his chair and sat down. I felt more confident to stop fidgeting with my ring and put my hands on my lap.
“I apologize if I made you uncomfortable. I wasn’t accusing you of anything, I was just surprised I hadn’t noticed you.”
Yeah, that was intentional, jackass.
I nodded. Of course he’d notice me if I didn’t hide every time he visited our floor—my hair was memorable, even when it was tied back. I was happy that I didn’t have to dye it anymore, didn’t have to hide, but the price was that there was always something people noticed about me.
“You did a good job at the front desk today. I’ll tell Madelyn to promote you if you’d like—the pay is better than an office assistant. I saw the recommendations in your file.”
No no no.
“Thank you, Mr. Mason, but Annie will be back, and I’m happy in the HR department. I like working there.”
“Call me Daniel, please. You’re not working right now.” He smiled. “Which means I can get you a drink if that’s why you preferred the espresso before.”
“It’s not. Thank you for offering.”
I couldn’t understand his tone. He seemed somewhat flirty, but it didn’t feel like he was flirting with me. Maybe his ‘nice’ voice just sounded that way. Then again, I wasn’t really good at reading people unless I was threatened, and I didn’t really feel threatened by him.
“Feel free to get yourself anything you’d like. I just need to answer a few emails.”
Why was he explaining himself? I already knew we were waiting for someone to arrive. Did he think I expected him to entertain me? I could have waited outside in the guest area.
It took her more than twenty minutes to arrive—an hour, which meant I missed the last bus and would have to take a taxi home.
A beautiful, tall woman with a briefcase walked in. She smiled at me and then beamed at him, kissing him on each cheek before sitting in the chair next to me and opening her computer on his desk.
It took another hour to create an image that looked more or less like the guy I saw, which she told Mr. Mason she’d run through “the database,” whatever that meant. At some point, they started chatting in a low whisper, so I took the opportunity to excuse myself.
I used the phone at a desk outside his office and tried to call a cab. I had to call three numbers that I looked up on my phone before someone finally said they had one available, but before I could confirm it, I felt a looming heat behind me, and Mr. Mason’s finger pushed the button to hang up.
I put down the phone and took a step back, twirling the flower on my ring again as I looked up at him.
“You’re not taking a cab, I’ll drive you.” There’s that commanding voice again.
“That won’t be necessary.”
“I insist. You won’t find cab in this area this late and it’s my fault you’re here.”
My first instinct was to worry about giving him my address, but he already saw my files, which had all of my contact information. How do you tell your boss you’re not comfortable being alone in a car with them because they’re male and probably more than twice your size?
I nodded and followed him to the parking lot.
I was about to panic and back out when I saw the motorcycle, but he led me to a black SUV.
I didn’t know anything about cars, though I recognized the Bentley logo.
At least it wasn’t the bike, which was a gorgeous black Ducati that I had no intention of getting on with a man I didn’t know. I’d much rather ride it alone.
Not with that salary, you won’t.
It was a thirty-minute drive, and we spent it all in silence.
I could tell that he was uncomfortable, and I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it just a little bit.
I loved awkward silences because I was always comfortable with the quiet.
It felt nice to see other people squirm—the ‘normals’ who controlled the world and made up the rules about how the rest of us should behave.
If I could ignore my discomfort around people, they could handle a little bit of silence around me.
It was childish to latch on to this tiny bit of payback in my life, but I took what I could get.
I thanked him, hopped out of the car, and walked into my apartment, collapsing on the couch. I needed to wind down from all of the smiles and people-handling I had to do that day. Working in HR was so much quieter.
Speaking of… my phone rang. Twice now in one day, Madelyne called me outside of working hours.
“Hi, Madelyne.”
“Lydia, I heard about what happened. How are you doing?”
“Just got home. Tired. Am I back in HR tomorrow?”
“Oh. Do you want to be?”
Shit.
“Yes. Do you need me at the front desk again?”
“If you wouldn’t mind, just for the next two weeks until Annie’s back. Your pay will be increased, of course, and Mr. Mason and Rick both said you did great.”
“I’m happy to help, but I’d like to come back to HR after that, if it’s okay.”
“Of course! We love you. It’s just… are you sure? The pay is better and it’s been almost a year. You can do so much more and grow in the company, and Annie’s more than qualified to move on to her next role, too.”
“I appreciate it, really, but I like working with you more than I want the pay increase.”
I could hear her sighing. “As long as I’m here, you have a place on the sixth floor, Lydia. I’ll see you tomorrow. Same time?”
“Yes. Thanks.”
I knew I was frustrating her, but I really did like it there.
It was safe and simple, and I didn’t want more than that in my life.
It was enough to pay for my tiny one-bedroom apartment in a relatively nice neighborhood.
I didn’t have any expensive hobbies or go out, so the salary was more than what I needed.
I showered and watched an old Bruce Lee movie while drinking a bottle of beer and eating a bowl of pasta I had made the day before.