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The Alpha's Rose - Chapter 2

ROSE

            Upon entering the large skyscraper that is owned by Evans Enterprises, the receptionist, Lori, looks up to give me her usual smile and a wave but does a double take at my new coat color. Her face crinkles into a weird frown. I just smile politely back as I head to the stairs to descend to the basement, where my workday starts. I remove my coat and extra shirt layers and hang them in my locker, but leave my gloves, scarf, and hat on. I’m still feeling cold and those are black, so they aren’t against dress code. I know I’ll warm up soon enough.

            I head into the mailroom where my mail cart is waiting. Rolando, my supervisor, works the early mornings to sort the mail into our carts, and they are always loaded and perfect upon arrival. Because so many things are sent electronically these days, there isn’t much need for mail clerks anymore, so there are only 2 of us for the entire skyscraper and only Rolando in the mailroom for sorting. The three of us, Me, Rolando, and Monica are a tight-knit little family, always looking out for each other.

            “Good morning, Mi bonita!” Rolando hollers out from his office.

            “Morning Rolando,” I reply back as chipperly as I can muster.

            “Uno momento, Rosie,” Rolando makes his way to me and hands me two granola style protein bars. I look at him confused. “Donna looka me like that seniorita. I know you no eat. You too skinny. How long been since you eat meal?” he asks me in his slightly broken English/Spanish combo.

            I roll my eyes, “Rolando,” I begin with a sigh, but he cuts me off.

            “NO! La esposa chase me with shoe if you no eat. Eat or I chase you with shoe!” I laugh at his exasperated face. The Hispanic cultural norm of a mom chasing their kids with a flip flop when she’s angry is some of the funniest shit I’ve ever heard, but I guess it’s scary because even Rolando cowers at the thought of Maria chasing him with her flip flop. Honestly, I’d love to see it!

            “Okay, okay,” I concede, “I’ll eat the bars.”

            “Bueno! Then you come back and eat lunch with me. Maria pack extra for you y Monica. No argumento.”

             Mondays and Fridays are always the same, Rolando’s wife Maria packs extra food for me and Monica. Somehow, they know I don’t eat on the weekends, giving everything I have to Maddie. So, they fill me up on Fridays and refill me on Mondays. Sometimes that is all I eat for the whole week. It is such a sweet gesture and I know they care so much for me and Maddie. The coat Maddie has, was given to us by Maria, one of their grandkids had outgrown it and they knew she needed a new one. Sometimes it takes a village.

              I kiss Rolando on the cheek and just nod. I grab my cart and head for the service elevator just as Monica arrives in the basement. We wave hi at each other and continue onto our own routes.

              The Evans Enterprises building, or The Tower, as everyone calls it, is quite large. 62 stories, most of those are occupied by Evans Enterprise employees or one of their numerous subsidiaries. There is a hotel on the first 15 floors and then there are a few medical and legal offices on the 16-19th floors that aren’t associated with Evans Enterprises, but for the most part the entire building is theirs. Monica delivers the mail for floors 1 through 30. I have 31 through 62.

               Delivering mail is not a hard job. I don’t have the education for much. I am quite smart, but no formal education makes it hard to get a decent job. My job is quite monotonous, and it gives me free time to think. Too much time, actually. I wish I had enough money for a phone and cordless headphones because it would be nice to fill some of this time with audio books.

              Maddie and I visit the public library every single Saturday morning. We check out the maximum number of books that we’re allowed, and we finish most of them before the next visit. We are both speed readers and enjoy learning as much as we can on almost any subject. But I can’t read on the job, so despite the library having free books on audio, most of my day is spent in silence.

              I always start my deliveries with the CEO’s office on the 62nd floor, Tyson Evans. He wants to have his delivery first thing. That way he starts his day off with all the information he needs right at his fingertips. Afterward, I go down to the floors with the individual CFOs and COOs for Evans Enterprises subsidiaries. They get the same treatment as Mr. Evans, priority delivery first thing. There are over two dozen of them. Then I make my way back up to the top floor and work my way down the floors to deliver to everyone else.

              As I make my way toward the enormous double mahogany doors on the 62nd floor that lead into Mr. Evans’ office, I see his current assistant, Rachel posted up at her desk. She is such a bitch. Tall with bright red hair and nasty hazel eyes that always sneer at me, like I’m something to look down upon. She guards his office like a fucking hawk when she is here early. I deliver all CEO, CFO and COO mail directly to their respective desks and she knows this. I have permission to enter directly from Mr. Evans, despite having never met the man; those are his only standing orders for me. But she still interrogates me on it when she happens to be at work early. I have noticed she has started making it a point to arrive earlier and earlier this last week. I have no idea why either.

               “Stop right there, freak,” Rachel spits at me as I try to ignore her and open Mr. Evans’ office door.

               “Rachel, we go through this every morning. You know I have permission to enter and put Mr. Evans’ mail on his desk. You know he wants to sort and open it himself. And why do you insist on calling me that name? It is quite rude and unprofessional.”

                “What else would I call you? That scar on your face makes you look like a freak. Besides, you’re a nobody. It’s not like I need to be professional to you, you aren’t a professional. You’re just a mail clerk, the office equivalent of the shit I stepped in on my way into work.” She replies with her nose in the air.

                 I just sigh and step around her without answering back. It isn’t worth my time to explain to her how I got my scar or try to defend myself more. Bullies like her exist everywhere in life, I just do my best to ignore her.

              I open the doors to the office, and I deeply inhale as I slowly walk to Mr. Evans’ desk. The whole room smells like coffee and dark chocolate, two of my favorite scents. This is my favorite part of the day, walking in here and smelling his office. When Rachel isn’t here, I linger for a little while, just trying to breathe in enough of this heavenly smell to calm me and help get me through my long day.

             I’ve only ever seen Mr. Evans from afar, walking across The Tower courtyard. He is the epitome of sex on a stick, if that was something I actively thought about. He is tall and broad shouldered, with long black hair that is shaved short on the sides. He keeps it neat and pulled into a sleek ponytail or man-bun. He keeps his full beard trimmed short and neat. Even from across the building courtyard, I could see his bright cobalt blue eyes shining out from under his full black eyebrows. He exudes confidence and sex appeal, only the second man I have ever been attracted to.

            When I turn around after setting the mail on Mr. Evans’ desk, Rachel is standing at the door, glaring at me. I don’t think much of it since that is all she does when we are near each other, glare. I’ve never even seen another expression on her face. But when I get closer, she steps inside the office and closes the door, shutting me in with her. She grabs my face with her right hand and angles my face up to meet her eyes. I know my eyes go wide, not in fear, but shock that she would touch me, let alone so aggressively.

            “He is mine, bitch! Don’t even think about it,” she threatens then literally spits on my face.

            “What the hell?! Let go, Rachel! I don’t care who is yours or who you think you belong to; I just want to do my job in peace. LET ME GO AND MOVE OUT OF MY WAY!” She might be bigger and taller than me, but I know how to defend myself. Thanks to the homeless thief from last year, I took some free self-defense classes the city police were offering at the local YMCA. My police instructors were rather impressed with my abilities and quick learning.

              Rachel is startled by my yelling, not expecting me to be offended by her assault. I wipe the spit off my face as I move around her easily, thankful I didn’t have to use any defensive maneuvers with her. I’ll need to be more careful when I am alone with her. She’s becoming much more hostile toward me. I’ll also need to mention this incident to Rolando and file a complaint with HR. I don’t care who’s assistant she is or how insignificant my job is. No one will treat me like that or make me fear for my safety while at work.

            I emerge from Mr. Evans’ office and quickly head to the service elevator with my cart, not turning back around. I try to ignore the glaring eyes I can feel following me, but the hairs on the back of my neck stay standing at attention.

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