The pile of clothing thrown in the corner of my room grows as the ones in my closet never seems to decrease. Our move out of the townhouse will be quick since we don't have much stuff between us and even less time to find a place.Between asking at school and visiting our local grocery store, we came up with nine boxes to pack. Four for her, four for me, and one to throw in the various crap we've stashed around the place. Most of the household stuff is Jonathan's, but I don't plan to leave without my bright pink "you're special" unicorn mug.Trying to make a huge shitload of clothing fit into four boxes is not how I planned to spend my Saturday, but it's a good time to make a pile for donation.Or I can throw things in trash bags and move it that way. Either way works.Trash bags."I'm so sorry, Kens. Do you want two of my boxes?" Ashley apologizes for the nine hundredth time.She doesn't walk all the way into my room, probably fearful I'll put her to work packing. It's a w
"Ashley," I yell and go in search of her to pass on the bad news. Looks like she's on her own for this packing at least for a little while.There's not time to change my clothes into something more acceptable. Every second I waste getting this suit to Vincent is another second he can think of new work punishments for me. I slip on a pair of tennis shoes I've left by the front door and grab my purse on the way out. Sweats and a heavily worn t-shirt from my undergrad university will have to do as business casual.This morning as we apartment shopped, I dressed nicely, but I have a rule that when you're home jeans can fuck off. The one upside to getting a place with just Ashley that as soon as I walk in the apartment, I will be able to strip. Something I couldn't do with Jonathan living here.I unlock the Equinox, my movements a little unfamiliar since it's been almost a week since I've driven. Only when I'm on the road and a few miles away do I realize how much I miss operating a v
Less than twenty-four hours and I'm on my second ridiculous request from Valiant. In front of the large glass doors of the Valiant skyscraper I'm smart enough to wait for the security guard to open the door."Mr. Valiant said he will be right down. You are to wait here," a different security guard than the one who let me have free access upstairs yesterday says. The way his eyes linger across my body gives me chills before my cheeks turn red. What did Valiant tell him about why I had to wait in the lobby?I dressed today as per Mr. Valiant's instructions. The black pants and matching jacket, which I haven't buttoned, doesn't look hussy, but the guard's gaze make me feel dirty. Of course he probably had questions about why someone he's never met before is here on a Sunday morning and not allowed to go upstairs.Whatever. Who cares what he thinks? I just hope whatever this is gets done as fast as possible. Ashley and I still need to find a place to live. Rather than apartment shop,
I roll my eyes and then give a silent thanks to the sky he's already ahead of me and doesn't see. The most surprising thing is that he didn't already own it. Valiant is slacking. There's a rumor he owns half the buildings downtown, even a few used by state employees. Real estate such as office space and apartment buildings make up a large portion of the assets Valiant started with so it wouldn't surprise me if the rumors were true.Valiant holds open the door, and I walk in to be greeted by a smiling woman in a cute spring dress. White fabric with little pink flowers all over it in a light shade make her look absolutely gorgeous. I dressed for powerful professional and here she is likely going to an afternoon tea party. I didn't even curl my hair, choosing instead to wear it straight and loose.She holds a water bottle out to Valiant. Water dribbles off the edges and falls to the tile floor. "Water, Mr. Valiant?" she asks, her smile never wobbling as she speaks. It can't be human.
My cell phone dings, but I don't catch the email before the notification disappears from the screen. Not wanting to unlock my phone I check the company email on my computer in front of me.Bright and early Monday morning a wonderful gentleman from IT staff visited my desk and asked to take my cell phone for an hour. I wasn't going to let him. My cell phone is my life. I wouldn't pass it over like a first child or something. But then he informed me he'd put email on my phone so I could check it easier.I suspect it would also make it easier for Vincent to contact me when he's feeling needy or wants me to show up for work on a weekend with dry cleaning.Now less than thirty minutes later my phone returns the first email.Vincent ValiantSubject: LunchBe ready for a working lunch in fifteen.Vincent ValiantValiant Industries CEOI DON'T HAVE a problem with a working lunch, besides the fact I'll be working during it, but he doesn't give me any more details. Should I bri
He's so serious in his response I'm forced to take another bite of sub so I don't laugh. Who would have guessed Vincent Valiant doesn't eat jelly?Making as much noise as I can, I open the small bag of chips which came on the tray just to annoy him. He seems like a man who would hate too much noise.From the pinch of his lips, it works. "I've scheduled the moving crew to be at your current place tonight. You and Davis need to leave here by five in order to meet them."At first, I nod in agreement because I'm only half listening. I'm finishing a bite of food before I realize what he's said."I haven't said yes to the apartment yet.""This apartment's location is perfect for you and your roommate. Why wouldn't you say yes? It would be stupid to turn the offer away."I lift a shoulder. Who cares if he's right. I should get to decide myself. Does he plan to strong-arm all his other employees into his fancy apartment building? "We're still looking at places and my ex said we cou
"Holy crap. What is that?" The car jostles over a pothole and I twist in my seat to get a better view of the massive moving truck parked in front of our townhouse. It wider than my home. When Vincent said the movers would be here tonight, I didn't realize he planned to hire a semi-truck. How much stuff does he think we own?"That's your moving truck," Davis says, looking in the rearview mirror like I'm a moron.I sigh and rub a hand over my temple, worried about the headache that started around three o'clock today when Vincent made me hand edit a report that came from accounting. And then he made me do it again since I didn't use a red pen the first time. "I know it's a moving truck, but for whom? Does he plan to move the whole complex?"Davis stops the town car and as usual I get out of the backseat before giving him time to open my door. It's a ridiculous gesture. I'm capable of opening my own door. Right now bigger issues are happening in my life.The door to my townhouse is
In front of that are the rails that make up my bed frame and my mattress. We could have moved these items in a small car.Most of the things in our apartment—the furniture, Ashley's bed, and almost all the dishes and pots and pans in the kitchen—belong to Jonathan. We were two broke college students, and he was working a full-time job. At the time it made sense he would buy everything, but now as my entire life doesn't come close to filling up a moving truck, it's sadder than I want to admit to myself or anyone else."I have extra boxes packed in my car." Ashley looks to me as if she wants me to grab them and add them to the semi, but it won't be enough to help the sad situation.One mover who'd taken apart my bed steps forward away from the group. "We can move those boxes to the truck." He smiles and never once looks at me.Does he have a thing for my best friend? Just like Ashley. She's literally moving out of a townhouse with one boyfriend and already has a fresh guy interes