Present Day
The waiting room of Pathways Center for Victims of Abuse smelled like burnt pencil erasers. At least that's what Abby Redding thought as she sat in one of its uncomfortable wooden chairs. She didn't bother to read the outdated Good Living magazines spread out on the plastic coffee table. Seeing recipes for food she couldn't afford and directions on how to make pointless crafts like cinnamon centerpieces always left a bitter taste in her mouth. Pamphlets for local counseling centers, sexually transmitted diseases, and abortion clinics were prominently displayed near the receptionist's window. Above the display was a banner that read: Time Heals all Wounds.
Abby smirked. Time never healed any of her wounds. If anything, it left her with some gnarly-looking scars and severe anxiety.
Abby fidgeted in her seat as the door to the waiting room's entrance swung open and an emaciated blonde walked in wearing a red tank and cut-off shorts. Her left arm was covered in random seemingly meaningless tattoos unless she had an affinity for Hangul, spiders, and Care Bears. She signed in and groaned as she sat across from Abby, who felt overdressed in her black suit and cheap Payless heels. She wondered if the blonde refused to wear make-up or simply chose to display her unattractive hickeys and matching black eye.
Abby's tongue felt thick in her mouth and a queasy feeling started to spread in her belly. She touched a wooden bead of the bracelet she always wore.
I'm alive.
Her fingers deftly moved to the next bead.
I have a roof over my head.
"Ms. Redding," the receptionist behind the bullet-proof glass called out. A door next to the receptionist opened wide, revealing a heavy-set woman with short dark hair. She gestured for Abby to follow her. Abby's heels clicked against the linoleum floor as she disappeared behind the door and down the corridor to her caseworker's office.
The case worker's chair squeaked with her weight as she opened Abby's file, glancing at the name. "Ms. Redding?" she asked absently, making sure she was talking to the person who matched the file in front of her. The question irked Abby who had been in this office numerous times before.
"Yes," Abby answered, swallowing her irritation.
"Right. You're here because of the job interview this afternoon. Sorry for the short notice but you're one of the few clients I have who has a college degree and still looking for a job."
Without thinking, Abby touched a bead from her bracelet.
I'm college-educated.
"I hope you know how lucky you are to get this opportunity. You're going to flip when I tell you who it's for." The caseworker licked her sausage-like lips in anticipation. "Alex Carter!"
The name sounded familiar but Abby didn't recognize the name.
Disappointed by the lack of excitement from Abby, the caseworker's mouth fell open and her jowls jiggled as she proceeded to spout facts as though they were playing a round of Guess Who. "You don't know him? He's a pretty famous man around town. His family owns the CallaTech Corporation. He's a best-selling author. He was a guest on the Today Show. You seriously don't know him? They even made a meme of him with some baby goats after he came out on The Tonight Show."
"Who are they?" Abby asked.
Her caseworker sat back and groaned. "The people online. He was named Sexiest Man Alive."
"I don't own a TV," Abby admitted. "Will knowing who he is be integral to the job?" She hoped it wasn't. She didn't have two pennies to rub together and was down to her last slice of bread. Just that morning, she had received a disconnect notice for the electricity in her studio apartment. Getting this job was vital to her survival.
The caseworker sighed, "Well it's a personal assistant position so I would think so but the family really wants to do something charitable for the community so they were willing to hire one of our clients."
Abby's finger tapped a wooden bead.
I'm forgiving and understanding.
"So here is the address. You're to be there in two hours. Can you handle that?" The caseworker's eyebrows furrowed in skepticism.
Abby took the slip of paper with the information and stood. "Thank you. I'll be there."
"There may not be any other job opportunities for a while. Certainly none like this. So do your best and maybe sear him online to know what you're getting yourself into or at least to see him with those baby goats." It made for a pitiful pep-talk as Abby made her way back to the unwelcoming waiting room.
Two hours later, she sat in the lobby of CallaTech Corporation's executive floor. Abby crossed her ankles as she sat at the edge of the leather sofa. Instead of magazines, hardcover picture books advertising the company's products were available to waiting guests. Bottled waters and snacks were also offered to Abby, who refused both. She stared at the abstract art pieces made of circular tin pieces and green wire that hung on the wall. They reminded her of Oscar the Grouch from the Sesame Street show for some reason.
Abby tapped her bracelet.
I know who Oscar the Grouch is.
"Ms. Redding?" a woman in a designer suit called out. Earlier, she had introduced herself as Felicia, Mr. Carter's secretary.
"Yes?" Abby stood up.
"Mr. Carter is ready for you."
Abby rubbed her clammy palms against her thin cotton suit. It was the nicest one she owned but it felt like flea market clothing compared to what Felicia was wearing. Abby was led to an office with tinted glass double doors. Her reflection in the glass gave her little assurance. Her dark hair was partially up and her brown eyes looked tired. At least her outfit wasn't wrinkled.
"Go right in," Felicia instructed before whispering, "Good luck."
Abby bobbed her head twice before pushing open the doors and taking a small step forward. His chair was facing away from her but she could hear him on the phone.
"What did I hire you for? If you're going to call me every five minutes to tell me about patent problems, I'll have my secretary get your replacement lined up. I don't care how. Just get it done. Understand?"
Abby watched as a leather chair swiveled around to reveal her potential boss. The first thought that came to mind when she saw him was: he isn't old.
Abby suddenly understood why her caseworker at Pathways had been so aghast by the fact that she didn't know who Alex Carter was. One look and no woman or man would ever forget the face of the enigmatic male behind the polished desk that screamed wealthy. His strong jaw showed a hint of an afternoon shadow. Above his high cheekbones were eyes the exact shade of cornflower blue. His dark tousled hair gave him a rakish appearance which made him seem somewhat unpredictable. He loosened his tie before gesturing for her to take a seat.
"You're the one from Pathways?" he asked as he put down his phone and half-heartedly perused a file in front of him that Abby assumed was her resume.
"Yes, sir. That's correct."
"It was my mother's idea to hire someone from there. I was against it but she insisted. I'm very demanding and I have a feeling anyone from Pathways wouldn't last long so I agreed. I figured I'd do my bit of charity and get my mother off my back all in one go."
The man's candor was appalling but he didn't bother to look at Abby as his eyes continued to survey her resume. "The position is for a personal assistant but this job won't necessarily have you in the office. Will that be a problem?"
"Not at all," Abby answered thinking of the piling collection notices and the empty refrigerator waiting for her when she returned home.
"I see you have a degree in business with a minor in public relations. Impressive. Why haven't you had a real job?"
"A real job?" Abby asked, unprepared for the direct assault his question had on her ego. She mistakenly thought it died long ago and wasn't sure how to feel about that discovery.
Alex sighed, tossing her resume on his desk. "Let's cut to the chase. I need an assistant. You need a job. I'm not going to ask you a bunch of pointless questions trying to find out what your biggest accomplishment in life is. I just want to know if I can trust you or not and if you're smart enough to know what two plus two is. So explain to me why you haven't held a real job related to your degree. You went to a state school which wouldn't have necessarily held you back."
Abby gripped her wrist, feeling the smooth beads of her bracelet pressing into her palm.
I'm not weak anymore. I am strong.
Abby cleared her throat before pulling her shoulders back. "Pathways is designated to help victims of abuse. I'm sure you can deduce why I'm a client of theirs. I haven't had a real job because after I graduated college, I found myself in a very precarious situation. I would go into details but that would be crass of me on an interview and we just met. As to whether you can trust me, I'd rather show you than tell you but I don't steal or I wouldn't need this job and if you're afraid I'll spill some sensitive information, just threaten me with a pink slip because I really do need this job if I want to do fun things like eat and have light in my apartment. Oh, and by the way, two plus two is four."
Somewhere in the middle of her speech, she had caught the attention of Alex Carter who was now leaning back in his leather chair, fingers steepled together as he mulled over what she said. He tapped his perfectly manicured nails against his desk before speaking. "I like your attitude. Fine. I'll give you a shot. Your first assignment will be to travel to Bayless. Have you ever been there?"
Abby had never heard of Bayless much less visited. "No, sir."
"I just bought a cabin out there. It hasn't been used in years...almost decades. I want you to personally clean it out. Make it livable for me by the time I get there. Understood?"
Abby bit the inside of her mouth. He wants me to be a maid?
As if reading her thoughts, Alex flashed a crocodile smile. "Will this be a problem?"
She loosened her teeth from the inside of her cheek, tasting blood. "Not at all."
"Good. Also, I have a few rules that I'll hold you to. One, don't ask too many questions. If you don't know how to do something, figure it out. Two, I don't like to hear excuses. If you can't follow these conditions, I'll be more than happy to fire you faster than you can beg to stay. Are we clear?"
"Yes, sir. Is that all?" Abby asked.
"Yes. Go ask Felicia to take you to payroll. She'll also give you the details for the Bayless assignment."
Abby stood up, her legs feeling rubbery but ready to walk out the door when he stopped her with a third condition. "My final warning. This isn't Fifty Shades of Grey so don't get any ideas about me falling in love with you, Abby Redding."
Was he joking? Did he watch Fifty Shades of Grey? He didn't seem the type. Her expression must've given her away because Alex cleared his throat and straightened his suit jacket before explaining, "My mother made me watch it."
Abby nodded, thinking her boss was definitely unusual. She stepped out of the office to find Felicia and get set up with payroll. As her heels sunk into the plush carpet, Abby touched another bead of her bracelet.
My life is about to change.