A Couple Shades of Taylor - a spitefic

Ch.3

This is bull shit.  But I can’t complain.  The new apartment he’s moving me too is nicer and bigger, but I didn’t get any say in it and didn’t know about it until movers showed up earlier today to start packing my stuff.  Yesterday I interview, take the job, and now I’m being moved.  Does this guy have some spare apartments somewhere just waiting? Is there a crew of people hanging around to move people around? I want out.  

There’s still a picture of Sophia on the wall.  I take it down and stare at her green eyes and her curly brown hair.  Marisa is a witch of a woman, but beautiful.  Sophia took after her mother’s looks.  I hope she take after my personality.  I keep the picture with me and take it to the car and head over to the new apartment again.

On the other end men are taking empty boxes out, but my stuff is still at my old apartment.  I’m not sure what is happening.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” I ask to a couple people pushing past me.

“Are you you Jason Taylor?”  A woman holds a clipboard to me and brushed a wisp of loose blonde hair behind her ear.  “I’m Gia Matteo, interior designer.  I’m here with a delivery of children’s furniture and to oversee set-up of your office."

I read over the clip board.  Christ on a cracker, the bastard’s going to own me.  I don’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth, but I know he’s not doing this out of the goodness of his heart.  Grey’s buying me.  Just as easy as he’s giving all this, he can take it away.   I sign on the line accepting delivery.

Fresh paint fumes fill the apartment.  Through a doorway I can see light yellow walls.  Sophia’s favorite color.  I hope the choice is coincidental.  Not knowing nauseates me.  At noon I’m supposed to report for work.  All I want to do is find Marisa and tell her to get the hell away and take Sophia.  But not to Korea.  I’ll call her tomorrow, my dad too, after I’ve got the first day out of the way. 

I head into the bright room.  A white enamel daybed is in front of the window with a yellow gingham bed spread.  A stuffed Peter Rabbit waits at the head.  I’m not a religious guy, but I pray to any deity there might be that Grey, or whoever decided to theme Sophia’s room with Beatrix Potter, just made another lucky guess.  A couple designers are hanging pictures.  One of of me and Sophia that I didn’t give the new boss.  If I didn’t need this job, I’d go deck the fucker for the depth he’s gone to to spy on me.

Instead I skip checking out the office and hustle down to my car and to his apartment to report for duty.

Elizabeth answers the door, cheerful today.  I think the cut of her blouse and skirt is some sort of sexy uniform, except her skirt is black today.  Her blonde hair is in a bun.  She’s really a misses?  Lucky husband.

“Come on in, Mr. Taylor.”  Her eyes sparkle.  I’m entranced

“Jason.  Please call me Jason.”  The words fall out of my mouth fast enough I’m surprised they’re coherent.

She cocks her head to the side.  “Jason.  But only when the boss isn’t around.  He likes formality a bit too much.  Sometimes I think he’s a British person in an American body.”

I think he’s a frightening ass masquerading as a human being, but don’t tell her that.  “So where do I go today?”

“Follow me."

This is distracting.  I don’t know if she walks with her hips leading each step on purpose, of it that strut is natural.  But it draws my attention to inappropriate places.

“Taylor,”  Mr. Grey snaps at me.  Shit.  I didn’t realize we made it to his office.  If looks could kill, I’d have been dead before knowing he was around.  He nods to Elizabeth - Mrs. Jones in his presence - and she silently retreats.