~Photo of Preston Larks above~
ALEXANDER
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Beep..... Beep..... Beep.....
A fax machine. Mr. Larks had a fax machine. A freaking fax machine. Who carried fax machines anymore? Wasn't that why cellphones were invented?
I couldn't help but stare awkwardly at the bulky piece of machinery. It was definitely a foreign object to me. My mother had one back when I was just a small kid, but I hadn't seen one since.
My heart dropped into my stomach and I nearly jumped out of my skin when Mr. Larks' secretary walked through the door to the office. I couldn't remember her name, but I think it started with an S? S... Saaa.... Samantha? No, Sandra... Saoirse? Ssssshamalamadingdong. Shut up, brain.
"Alright, Mr. Richards, you're all set for the job. So here are the requirements," she said and handed me a packet. "It is mandatory that you go through each page, thoroughly. You will be assisting Mr. Larks four days out of the week, every week. Usually those days will be Monday, Tuesday, Friday, and Sunday, unless you're told otherwise. Your shift will start an hour after you finish college classes, so you are expected to be here every day at two o'clock sharp. No later. You will work from two to either nine or ten o'clock at night, unless further instructions have been given.
"Part of this job includes mild up-keep, such as cooking or cleaning. Helping Mr. Larks is your top priority. You will also send faxes, write emails, and update him on his company's reports, as well as read to him what he receives in response. No strings attached, Richards. Questions are not allowed. Your pay will start at twenty dollars an hour. Another job you will perform is when Mr. Larks requests to be taken somewhere, whether in the house, or out, you are to guide him. He refuses to use a guide dog or a walking stick. You must act as his eyes. Do I make myself clear?"
Explain to me again what the point was of giving me the packet if she just practically laid it all out for me right then and there? But I wasn't going to object. I needed this job desperately and my landlord was already threatening to kick me out of my apartment. I needed the money more than a stray dog needed food. I was a man at the end of his ropes. Well, boy. I don't think I was old enough to be considered a man.
Shaking my head, I looked up at the woman in front of me, who'd begun to tap her heel impatiently. My eyes widened and I cleared my throat as I replied, "Y-Yes, very clear ma'am. Loud and clear. I understand completely."
She just stared at me for a minute or two. The type of stare that sends icicles straight through your heart and makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Then, with a huff, she turned back to her planner and began to jot down what I could only think was a gradebook on my poor sense of professionalism. I might be exaggerating.
"It's Sara, by the way." Ah, there was her name. The one I'd hopelessly forgotten. I blushed, mentally smacking myself for being so rude. She turned back to me and beckoned with her hand, stepping out of the office. "Follow me, Mr. Richards. We'll begin with the tour."
Sighing quietly, I forced myself to pull it together and walked after her. Already, I had embarrassed myself for forgetting a simple name and spacing out. It didn't help that my nerves were on edge. I had to stuff my hands in my pockets to keep myself from biting my nails. The feel of my clammy palms against the material of my slacks was equivalent to nails on a chalkboard.
The tour was long. Actually, that was a major understatement. It took Sara an hour, literally, to show me the layout of the entire mansion. Turns out Mr. Money-Bags had two living rooms, a kitchen the size of my apartment. No, even bigger. He had a study, a library, four bathrooms, and six bedrooms. Six. He lives by himself? I was so confused as to why a man who lived alone needed so much space. His backyard was like two Wal-Mart's built side by side. Like a freaking football field. They weren't kidding when they said Preston Larks was loaded.
Sara had been talking non-stop for the past twenty minutes about the system the cleaning staff followed. I was expected to help whenever it was needed, and if I didn't know how to cook, I was expected to learn. I was also beginning to think the word 'expected' was used way too many times in the same sentence. It was starting to give me a headache.
We were currently standing on the back porch, facing the meticulously designed landscape. Sara continued to ramble on about Mr. Larks' much needed daily walk. The yard was enormous. It had a long garden that stretched out to the far corner of the field. A small path, as noted by Sara herself, ran through the middle. At the center of the flowery path sat a small fountain. It was so cliché because atop the fountain sat a little chubby cherub, playing a flute. Like any cheesy fountain, of course the water was flowing out the end of the flute. Honestly, it looked more like the cherub was spitting saliva full force without any luck of playing a single note than executing the intended, peaceful atmosphere.
"Now, Alex. Keep in mind, Mr. Larks likes to walk without help. You are there to help if it is requested, and that is all. If at any time he falls or stumbles, you are to politely put him back on track and then assemble your place back at his side. Understood?"
Jesus Christ, this woman was infuriating. She talked about this man like he was some fragile doll that could break at any moment. Now think what you will, but with a business as large and prosperous as Preston Larks, wouldn't you think he was less of a fragile doll and more sound in mind and body? I would think so.
"Yes, understood, ma'am."
"Good. You start tomorrow at two, on the dot. Now, shoo."
She proceeded to usher me through the house to the front door. I stumbled and tripped my way to the entrance of the estate, all the while insisting I was on my way to try and deter her ridiculous antics. I didn't understand her rush, but since she was the secretary of a man who co-owned a worldwide business, I supposed she was busier than she appeared to be. So I went quiet and walked quicker to my escape.
However, God apparently hates me and I'll tell you why.
Halfway to the entrance way, I turned the corner out of the living room and slammed straight into a solid wall. That effectively sent whatever I'd hit toppling backwards with me in tow. I collapsed on top of the same thing I'd smacked into and before I could squirm or roll sideways, two large arms went around my waist.
The solid cage around my lower torso helped me steady myself. I was somewhat shocked that I hadn't pulled away yet. Lifting myself off whoever I had unintentionally attacked, I came face to face with deep, clouded gray eyes. My breath caught in my throat. For a second, all I could do was stare, until I realized he wasn't looking directly at me. Oh shit.
Sara confirmed my fears when she yelped in astonishment. "Mr. Larks!" With super human speed, much like a cat in the throes of their infamous 'zoomies', she shoved me sideways, pushing me off of Preston Larks and onto the cold stone floor of the entrance way. I let out a surprised cry before I could stop myself as my ass connected with the hard surface. Sitting up, I glared at the secretary, rubbing my sore bum while she helped Mr. Larks to his feet. If she hadn't insisted on physically extracting me from the house, this entire ordeal could have been avoided. Dare I say, I could have introduced myself to Mr. Larks properly.
I was just about to protest her actions when a soft groan came from the one and only. It sent shivers down my spine at how menacing the man's voice was as he spoke. "What is the meaning of this? Sara, explain to me what the hell just happened," He demanded.
Well, there went my paycheck. Hired and fired in less than a day. Brilliant, Alex.
Sara was pawing her hands all over Mr. Larks, checking frantically for any signs of injury. When she found none, she whirled on me and scolded, "What the hell is wrong with you? You could have seriously injured Mr. Larks. Watch where you're going next time, young man!"
Anger boiled up inside of me at her accusation. Oh! So it was my fault, huh?! There was no time for me to bite my tongue as I lashed out, "Excuse me, it wouldn't have happened if you hadn't been shoving me to the door like a mad woman!"
Sara gawked and put a hand to her mouth dramatically. Wow, she really knew how to push my buttons. I never snapped at anyone, so this was a first. But before I could apologize, Mr. Hot-to-Trot gave a low chuckle of amusement. Wow, did I really just call him that? Lord, I'm losing my ever-loving mind.
"You must be Alexander Richards. The new assistant," He stated rather than asked, reaching out a hand. He was good at directing where a person was, I'll give him that. He'd stretched his arm out, right toward me. I didn't know whether he wanted me to shake it or if it was a sign to help me to my feet. I ended up standing by myself and took his hand to shake. One pump and I dropped my hand, stuffing it into the pocket of my slacks. Even with his vision impaired, Mr. Larks' eyes swam with mild curiosity as he gazed in my direction. Those gray eyes, storming and dark, could hypnotize anyone.
"Yeah, I'm the new kid," I muttered, watching his expression closely. He looked amused, but their was still a sternness to his features that had me believing he was in some pain, if it was any indication to the muscle ticking in his jaw.
So, I did what any rational nineteen year old would do. I dipped my head, even if he couldn't see it, and said, "Forgive me, Mr. Larks. I'm sorry I nearly plowed you over. It won't happen again."
Lifting my eyes back to his, I saw his gaze flicker and wander about the entrance way. Wait.... Could he see me? "Are you completely blind?" Oh, I could strangle myself right now. Stupid! Stupid! What the fuck is wrong with me?! Am I an idiot?! Obviously I was, because I wouldn't have asked the question if I wasn't.
Sara looked like she was about to murder me when Mr. Larks held up a hand and shook his head. His expression had darkened in thought and for a moment I was actually afraid he was going to yell at me. But I relaxed and let my shoulders sag in relief as he replied, "Not entirely, no. I have the capability of making out shapes and defined details if they're large enough, or close enough. However, most of my surroundings are usually too blurred for easy maneuvering."
That made a bit of sense. Sighing, I rubbed the sore spot on my butt once more, before looking at Sara. "I guess I need to be off now. A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Larks. I'll see you tomorrow," I said, wasting no time hightailing it out of there. I had enough embarrassment to last me a week, but there was one more thing I knew I couldn't avoid today.
Groaning with annoyance, I rifled my phone out of my back pocket and dialed up Katti. She would be dying to hear what had happened.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Oh my hell. No way! You lie! Don't lie to me, Chico. Don't lie! Are you ruffling me right now? Are ya? Don't answer that."
I stared incredulously at Katrina, eyebrow raised with concern. After I had left the Larks Estate, I had called Katti up and told her to meet me at our favorite diner. Sitting here after unloading all my gossip, she was giddy with excitement. Although, that wasn't new. Katrina was known for having an unhealthy abundance of energy.
"Katti, if I was kidding I would have been- Wait, ruffling? What the hell is ruffling, Kat?"
She dismissed my comment with a single hand wave. "Stop avoiding the subject, Mutton-chops. You've got to be shitting me right now, did you really fall on top of the Preston Larks? Uh-uh, it can't be possible. You would have been skinned alive."
"I'd rather not be shitting you, I think that would be kind of painful. And I'm not avoiding the subject. Yes, Katti, I did fall on top of Mr. Larks and I'm still breathing. Big whoop."
I felt a fist connect with my shoulder hard enough to snap me backwards with a shocked yelp. I glared over at Katrina with feigned hatred, rubbing the sore spot vigorously.
"Jesus, praise the lord, have mercy on your soul, Lexi. You are more stone-hearted than I thought. Seriously, are you sitting here telling me you felt nothing? Nothing at all when you met him?"
I gaped like a fish out of water at my best friend. What did she take me for? A panting whore? I shook my hands in front of me violently, my cheeks heating up as I did so. "What do you take me for, a slut?! My god, I just met the guy. I'm not gonna start drooling on him the second after I plow him into the ground!"
"But you would drool over him?" She asked hopefully.
"I didn't say that."
"You implied it."
"Did not."
"You thought about it," she said in a sing-song voice.
"I did not!"
"Stop lying to me, Alex!"
"I'm not!" I barked.
"LIAR!"
I let out a frustrated wail and raked my fingers through my hair. I felt like I was talking to a brick wall. Geez, she knew how to get under my skin. I will admit that, even with how brash she could be, Katrina kept me from being a pansy. In short, Katrina was my cheerleader since she absolutely adored me. In fact, I think sometimes she would take advantage of the fact that I was into men and purposefully point out guys here and there, asking me if I thought they were just 'to die for.' The fact that I had felt anything when I'd first seen Mr. Larks, something that made me eager to go back, was on her radar the instant we met up for lunch.
"See? You have that look in your eye, Lex."
I turned my nose up at her innocently. "So what if I do?"
Katrina let out a high pitched squeal and threw her arms around me, squeezing me half to death. "Oh my god, you don't know how long I've been waiting for you to find interest in someone again! Agh! Best day ever! We have to celebrate! Bartender!" She turned and waved down the man behind the bar of the diner, "I'll take two Oreo milkshakes!"
I laughed out loud, "Katrina, this isn't a nightclub." She simply waved me off, too excited with my confession to care how silly she was acting.
Celebrating with ice cream, huh? It paled in comparison to the little celebration the butterflies in my stomach were having. And all because tomorrow I would see him again. Or maybe it was just the bile of anxiety trying to climb my esophagus.
What had I gotten myself into?
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HEY LOVELIES! Thank you all for the major support! Until next time my little sunshine's. <3