Finn
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Nothing on earth could have prepared me for this situation, and so I was frozen in place, speechless at the sight of her half-naked. Was she aware she still had company or did she simply not care? Whatever it was, she didn't seem to give it any thought as she moved to a sofa and laid on it.
I raked my hand through my hair, completely overwhelmed by the situation. I had to somehow get her cleaned and in bed then face the nasty mess on the floor before leaving. Even the thought of leaving made me uncomfortable. At this rate she could very well choke on water if she got thirsty in the middle of the night.
Well, that was a pathetic excuse.
I got out of my jacket, tugged my tie off and undid the first two buttons of my dress shirt. Then I walked over to where she lay asleep and paused at the sight of her. She looked so peaceful, like something angelic, even with her vomit a few feet away from us. For once her face was free from the sad expressions she'd worn all evening.
I snapped out of my thoughts and gently lifted her up. "Come on, Amanda. You need to clean up and lie in your bed."
Her eyes came open. "Can't I just lie here?"
"The sofa's not a very ideal sleeping spot, especially if you're going to be waking up with a hangover. Trust me, I'm speaking from experience," I said with a bitter chuckle. Her eyes went close again. Great. I bet she wouldn't even remember any of this in the morning. I guess that was a good thing.
Helping her on her feet wasn't difficult. She led me to her bedroom and was held back from getting on the bed.
"You need to brush your teeth first," I said to her. She let out a frustrated groan and leaned into me. My body went stiff in an instant. Thanks, Elliot. This is going to be a long night.
Luckily the first door I got us through happened to be the bathroom. Getting her to brush her teeth at this rate looked near impossible so mouthwash would have to suffice. I opened the cabinet and got it out. I was having a hard time keeping her on her own two feet when she was so intent on having her body glued to mine.
"Say ah," I said, holding up a capful. With her eyes opened in slits, she opened her mouth and I tipped it in. "Don't drink it," I warned sternly. "Shake, then spit."
She kept her eyes on mine and her cheeks moved, then she spat it out into the sink.
"Good girl," I muttered. She left my arms and hurried out of the bathroom. When I got out, I found her curled on her bed like a cat. My eyes traced the contours of her body, up her slender legs and rounded ass, all the way to her raven hair that spilled over her face. I fought myself from remembering- I didn't want to recall the nights we had spent together, those limbs intertwined with mine, or that ass on my face. I didn't want to question if her hair still smelled of peaches like it used to. I didn't.
Get a fucking grip, will you?
With all the willpower I could summon, I tore my eyes away from her body and padded over to her closet. After a quick inspection, I pulled out a nightgown and moved to the bed.
"Hey," I gently lifted her up. "Put this on."
She rubbed her eyes and stared sourly at the clothing in my hand. "I don't want to."
Unbelievable. "What do you mean, you don't want to? And what do you think you were doing, stripping like that?"
She scrunched up her delicate features. "It's not like it's anything you haven't seen before. Go, I need to sleep. You keep pestering me."
I stared at her in shock. The fucking nerve. I bet she couldn't say any of this to my face sober. "Well, next time, don't go taking off your clothes in front of just anybody."
She said nothing in response and didn't look like she was going to put on the nightgown, so with an exhausted exhale I rolled it up and put it over her head.
"Arm," I called in a dull tone. She raised her arm through one sleeve. "The other one now." She did the other, and with the motion exposed the place above her ribcage, just underneath the cup of her black lacy bra. I stared at the dark ink of her tattoo of two birds flying side-by-side, the one she'd gotten the day it all fell apart. There was a sudden ringing in my ears and the distant sound of a gunshot filled my head. A high pitched scream followed and I shut my ears with my hands. My eyes were shut tightly too, and the pitch blackness seemed to suck the life out of me.
The ringing stopped, and silence followed. I found myself gasping as my eyes snapped open. Frantically, I looked around, desperate for an indicator of safety. My eyes fell on Amanda and the wild beating of my heart began to slow down. She was asleep again, and I felt relieved that she hadn't witnessed any of it. I didn't want her to see how fucked up the attack had left me, or how terrible I was doing at fixing myself. I hated the thought of her seeing the pathetic parts of me, parts I believed I could keep hidden by alienating myself.
I shut off any feeling and pulled her nightgown down, past her exposed thighs. I grabbed her pale lilac covers and tucked her underneath it. Resisting the burning urge to remain close to her, I turned away and walked to the door. Something caught my attention- a medicine bottle. I edged closer to her dresser and scrutinized the yellow bottle. Closer inspection revealed it to contain Xanax pills. The label read a hundred pills, but when I popped it open, I reckoned there was barely half of that left.
It's sorta like... like a coping mechanism.
I knew she wasn't going to tell me anything if I asked, and I also shouldn't be going through her things right now but a large part of me wanted answers too. That was why I'd gotten on my jet on a whim and gone to the wedding when I hadn't planned to. But I'd barely asked any questions at all, and she didn't appear keen on speaking to me.
Another part of me, a much smaller part stuck in denial, hoped to relieve the past. That part wondered if she was okay, and if she was faring much better than I was. That part wished she really was, because not a day passed that I didn't blame myself for what happened.
I returned the bottle and another thing caught my eye. It was on the floor, right in front of my foot and a few inches shy of a trash can. I crouched down to pick it up and held the memory chip in my hand. My phone vibrated in my pocket and I rushed out of the room to answer it. It was Parker.
"Will you be returning tonight, sir?"
"No, I've still got something to take care of before I join you. I'll be back at the hotel early in the morning and we can leave for the airport."
"Alright," he hesitated, but I sensed he had more to say. "Is she okay? I saw you leave with her. You looked a little..."
"Pissed off?"
"What? N-no! I would say hasty."
I chuckled. "You can be straight with me, you know. Elliot technically hired you, so I can't fire you without his permission if I wanted to. And I'm pretty sure I need Mallard's permission too. It's two against one, but I don't see a need to challenge them." I could sense him smirk through the phone so I added, "yet."
I wandered down the hall until I got to the kitchen. "But she's fine, although it's at my expense. Hey Parker, do you have any idea what I need to clean puke off a floor?"
"Did she- do you need me call a cleaning service?" He asked in alarm, like the thought of me cleaning a mess myself was unheard of. Well, it kind of was.
"No, no, I can handle it myself. No need expanding this past what it is. I just need to know what I need to do it myself."
"Okay, well, you need to find a pair of gloves if there's any."
My eyes roamed the room. "Give me a sec. Are you busy? You're not still at the reception, are you?"
"No, I got back about ten minutes ago."
"Great. I need you to stay on the line if you don't mind."
"My pleasure, sir."
I winced at his formality. I had told him before to forget it, besides I wasn't much older than him, but he insisted. I found the gloves with some cleaning supplies in the laundry room.
"Her place is so fucking clean." I muttered as I got them out. "What else do I need?"
"What else do you have there?"
"Bleach, scented detergent, a mop, towels and a couple buckets."
"You're going to fill a bucket with water and add some of the scented detergent. You don't need the rest. Can you find any paper towels? And vinegar too."
I grabbed the items and dropped them on the kitchen countertop. There was a large roll of paper towels by her coffee maker. "Vinegar? I don't know what it looks like. What do I need it for?"
"It's used in cooking but it helps with cleaning too. It'll help with the smell."
"Yeah, the smell," I grunted as I put the bowl under the tap and let it run with water while I searched for the vinegar. "What does it look like?"
"Like typical vinegar. It should be in a bottle. Check her pantry."
I did as he instructed and found it. I lugged everything to the living room, set my phone on loudspeaker and placed it on the floor beside me.
"Use the paper towels to wipe off any large chunks."
I grimaced as I rolled up my sleeves, put on the gloves and unravelled a fair amount of paper towels. "What a way to end my day."
Parker laughed. "They were very happy to see you. The Larsens, I mean. They care about you."
I scoffed. "You could tell?"
"Yeah. It was a little difficult to tell how you felt about it, but I've been working for you for over a year now and you didn't look particularly unhappy to be there."
I cleaned one spot and got more paper towels for the other. "I don't know how to feel about that. Are you applying to be my therapist now? You know how many I've had already. Hold on a sec, I need to throw these towels away."
I got up, bunched up the soiled towels and tossed them in the bin in the kitchen. I returned to the living room.
"Now what else?"
"Now you can wipe the residue with a towel. Pour some of the vinegar into the water."
"How much?"
"Um, just wing it? As long as it's not the whole thing."
"I don't know, this place really stinks." I poured about half of the vinegar into the water and immersed the towel in it. A ringing began, and I glanced at my phone. Parker was still there, so it couldn't be mine. My eyes travelled to Amanda's purse on the sofa. I shuffled over and pulled it open, getting much of it wet in the process. It kept vibrating, and I looked at the screen. The call went to voicemail.
Hey, Amanda. It's Nate. Sorry I couldn't call back yesterday, it's been one heck of a weekend. Sienna and I were at her obstetrician's this afternoon and we've got the result of the gender test. I have to hide it away from her because she's so desperate to read it. That being said, I'll pop in tomorrow morning and hand it over to you and we can also catch up. You mentioned having a wedding to attend today. How did that go? Anyways, got to go, love you.
The call ended and I saw that he had called a few other times in the last hour. It sounded like she and her best friend were still as close as ever. Something about that was... relieving. And gender test? Was he having a baby? It suddenly dawned on me that life went on regardless of what I had going on with mine.
"Mr Harris? You've been quiet for a while now."
I cleared my throat and dropped her phone. "I finally passed out from the smell." I shuffled back and wrung the towel to wipe the floor.
"Tragic."
"What are your plans for tonight, Parker?"
The line went silent, like he was caught off guard by my question. I really didn't know much about him past the skeletal information and qualifications the file Elliot had sent to me contained prior to his employment as my personal assistant.
"Not a lot, really. I've got your schedule for next week to go over, then a video call with my sister. What about you, sir?"
"Nothing. Just uncomfortable sleep on a sofa after this. Could you do me a favor?"
"Anything."
"I need you to look up some express dry-cleaning services. Preferably ones that are open at night. Send their contact through text."
"Got it. Will that be all?"
I got up and inspected the clean floors. Not bad for my first (and perhaps only) time. I might have spotted air freshener in the laundry room. I could use some of that, plus I still had to wipe my shoes clean, but those seemed miniscule compared to the work I'd just done.
"Thank you Parker. That will be all."
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