Hello everyone! So I am spreading my wings a little and stepping away from paranormal romance. This story will be all normal and naturally human. However, there will be some explicit materiel, i.e Bondage, Dominance, Sex, Vulgar Language, Violence, etc
Any sexual content rated R will be posted as another chapter in ANOTHER story titled 'Just Business. Rated R'
Please no complaints, I really wnat this to be considered for Watty Awards and to be featured on the most popular pages. So this will be PG-13. Any periods that end with *************** will mark the beginning of a sexual scene which you can read in the other version. Thanks everyone! Enjoy@
-JcLynn
Just Business
Chapter 1
For one moment I wasn’t alive…or at least it felt like I wasn’t. Underneath this water I kept my eyes opened and watched the blurry images of candles flickering on the bathroom wall. The air in my lungs was compressed and I felt a sudden urge to breathe. Flashes of lightening and the sounds of gunshots rang out through my head. The events of the last few hours were taking its toll on my psyche.
“Just a few more seconds.” I thought to myself, hoping for just a few more moments I could pretend I was dead. There were no problems for dead people. They just remained…wherever it is we go after death. I turned my head towards the door when I heard the urgent banging of my roommate, Vanessa.
“Nora Strong if you don’t open this door right now I will call the police!” her warbled voice reached me and I sat up, the water cascading down my naked torso and landing with a soft ‘drip, drip’ into the tub.
“You wouldn’t call the cops.” I said, my voice monotone, and sighed. I was used to Vanessa’s theatrics by now. She had majored in drama at the community college back in Texas. She definitely wasn’t meant for the small town girl life, raising babies on the farm and milking the cow everyday. Neither was I, for that matter, and that’s what made us such extraordinary friends when we first met. Soul Sisters we would say.
“Ok, you’re right. But I will call your mother.” I could almost hear the smirk in her voice as she said the M word.
“Fine! I’m coming out. Just give me a minute.” I muttered a few curse words under my breath as I reached for the towel sitting on top of the toilet. I wrapped my hair up tightly and then did the same to my body. The sound of the drain warbling down my bath water echoed around the small bathroom. If I stretched my arms widely, they would touch each of the four peach chipped walls. I guess this was the price for a cost efficient apartment in New York.
I didn’t want to look in the mirror, but I knew it was impossible to keep denying what had happened. I wiped the steam down with a washcloth and squinted to see the damage. My eyes flickered over my face, assessing everything with a grim look. All I could see was the dark purple bruise that covered my left eye and a deep scarlet cut slicing through my lower lip. It wasn’t as bad as I thought, my eyebrows rose in surprise, which in turn caused me to wince.
“Now for the rest of the goods.” I unwrapped the damp towel and set it down on the floor as I took in my naked body. A blue and purple handprint circled my upper arm and an angry red welt that was starting to look a sickly yellow sat right over my stomach. My hands roamed the rest of my body, trying to see if anything hurt. The welt was the worse of them; a deep throb of pain penetrated my stomach as I took a deep breath.
“Hello? Are you alive or not?” Vanessa’s voice echoed from behind the door. I sighed and replied, “If I wasn’t, how would I be able to reply to that question?” She didn’t respond as I slipped on my silk knock-off robe, a gift from my cousin when I first moved, making sure to tighten the belt loosely as it was right over my wound.
“Finally I was beginning to think-“ She began as the door opened, but stopped mid sentence once she saw my face.
“I’m gonna fucking kill him.” Her coco colored face turned red as she saw my eye and lip. Good thing she couldn’t see the rest. But her anger soon melted and tears welled up in her eyes.
“Vanessa, come on, don’t cry.” The problem with having a drama major as a best friend also meant she was pretty emotional. She could cry at the drop of a hat, which helped in her career but not so much in these situations.
“But look at you Nora! You look… you just look so fucked up!” She grabbed me and wrapped her arms tightly around me. I stifled the gasp of pain as she touched my bruised arm. She didn’t need to see the rest.
“I know. It’s ok, really. A little ice and some aspirin and I’ll be fine by Monday.” I sent a silent prayer to whoever may be listening that I was. I couldn’t afford to screw up this interview.
“Are you still thinking about going to that interview?” She asked, reading my mind. I slid passed her into the kitchen/ dining room / living room, the studio apartment was barely enough for one person let alone two. The stove made a clinking sound as I lit it up and slid over the teakettle.
“Vanessa, I have to. I already used my savings for the down payment here. If we are going to continue living in the city I need a job and this is the first place that has called me back in weeks.” I took out a green mug with a pink cat plastered on the front; its eyes wide and blue, looking at me so sadly. I had bought it on a whim in Soho on our first shopping trip in the city. Fifty cents was nothing for a smile, and that is exactly what it made me do.
“I’m sure if you explain the situation they will reschedule you!” She sat down at the two person table stacked with unpaid bills and eyed them warily.
“Yeah, I don’t think so. It’s a fortune five hundred company, and they want to have someone hired by next week. I have to go to this interview.” The whistle from the kettle blew and I started to pour the steaming water into my mug. Instead of a tea bag, I ripped open one of my Miss Swiss hot chocolate packets, pouring the brown powder into the water and mixing it until it was fully dissolved.
“Did you talk to the police yet?” Her voice was meek; she knew this was a sensitive topic.
“No Vanessa. I’m not getting the police involved. He’s gone and never coming back.” My voice was steel as I spoke the final words of the conversation. I could feel tension in the air as she tried to keep her thoughts to herself. I appreciated her cooperation and respect towards my decision. Police were no good, especially in this situation.
“You are sure he is not coming back? Because if for even a second you think there is a possibility he could show up here again than we need to-“
“Vanessa. You are my best and only friend in this world. I have never trusted someone as much as I have you, and I will never lie to you. He is not coming back. Ever.” My blue eyes met her own light green ones and she nodded once before handing me her mug. This is why I loved Vanessa. She never pushed me like my mother had. When I didn’t want to talk, then she sat in silence, just sharing the space.
“So what are you going to wear for your interview? And you better have some miracle makeup hidden in your room because that is what it is going to take to cover that monster on your face.” I laughed, tears springing to my eyes.
“Aww, Nessa, you know just what to say.”
“Shut that damn thing up!” My roommate and best friend yelled from across the room. A thin red, orange and yellow tie dyed sheet separated our small room for privacy, but did nothing to block out the sounds. I smacked my alarm clock, almost knocking it to the floor, but I wasn’t tired. In fact, I had been up for the passed hour lying in bed thinking about the day ahead.
I had my first interview today at Falcon Corporation, number six on Forbes list. It was only a meager personal assistant position, but it paid more than I needed and I had no life to speak of, so being at the beck and call of some rich woman wasn’t something I really cared about. Having food on the table and a roof over my head was what I needed, and this job would provide that for me.
My feet searched for my slippers, the hardwood floors were beautiful, but cold in the early October morning. I silently moved out of the room and into the kitchen where I put the kettle on and slid into the bathroom. I had two hours until I needed to leave, which was plenty of time.
I had showered the night before and tied my frosty blonde hair into two French braids. When I unraveled them from the confines of an elastic, a mass of waves fell down passed my shoulders and ending mid back. I put a little mouse into my hands and rubbed them together before sliding them through my locks, securing the waves and making them look fashionable.
I took my appearance in as I looked in the mirror. I wasn’t the typical ‘Texan Blonde’ like one might expect. My hair was almost too blonde, some would say. It was nearly platinum and all natural. My skin wasn’t tan, but instead was a porcelain shade that most people would say did not go well with light blonde hair, but mine flowed naturally. More than once I had thought I had Viking heritage somewhere down the line, but that wasn’t the case. All French and Croatian baby.
The once dark purple bruise was now a faint blue that circled my entire left eye. At least the cut was almost gone, and I could cover the rest with my clothes. I sighed, angry with Malcolm for what he did. I really hoped that it wouldn’t affect my chances at the job. Instead of complaining about my life I decided to drop it all, becoming the Strong and confident Nora that I knew.
I grabbed the makeup bag I had stored under the sink and began applying layers of foundation; carefully circling the violet shadows and making them look almost normal. I lined with lips with a rose tinted liner and applied lipstick as well. Once I was finished I stared at the reflection in the mirror. The bruise was still obviously there, but didn’t look as severe as it actually was. The cut was almost completely gone. “This will have to do.” I muttered and slipped out to get dressed.
By the time 9 o’clock rolled around I was dressed in a deep blue blouse tucked into a high wasted black pencil skirt, my feet fit snuggly into a pair of borrowed stilettos from Vanessa and was standing on the subway hurtling towards Manhattan. The apartment we lived in was in Brooklyn, and it took me three trains to get where I needed to go, but less than half an hour to do so.
I stared out of the window into the black abyss of the New York City subway tunnels. My gaze caught a few of the businessmen on the train; some reading newspapers, others fiddling on their IPads and phones. Was I looking at my future coworkers? They all looked so…blagh. Not ugly, but just boring. I guess if this is what I was to expect, it was the best. I couldn’t deal with a regular relationship let alone one from the office. Instead of thinking about how good looking the men in New York were, I slid out the paper I received a few days after my phone interview, focusing on the facts.
“Cassidy R. Beckett.” Was the person I would be interviewing with. Supposedly she was the company’s CEO and Founder. If my laptop hadn’t been busted I would have been able to do more research, instead I would just have to wing it if she asked why I wanted to work with her.
The subway jerked to a sudden stop and a throng of people moved in and out of the steel doors. I slipped into the crowd and quickly moved passed the begging hobos, and up the stairs into the grey light. My heels ‘clacked’ with the rest of them as I moved down the concrete towards the sleek tall buildings in the business distract. I passed a sign that read ‘Wall Street’ and took a left. I had come down to the Falcon building yesterday, hoping to familiarize myself with the area. It was pretty easy to get to, if you didn’t mind pushing passed the corporate Barbies and Gorillas.
I was slightly pushed sideways as a giant man in an Armani suit came passed me. His coffee spilt onto his shirt and he lowered his cell phone. “What where you’re going lady.” He said, his accent annoyingly thick. My eyebrows rose and before I could retort he moved on, cell phone back at his ear, talking about ‘some dumb broad on the sidewalk.’ I don’t think I would ever get used to the cities bad manners.
Instead of wallowing I moved on and kept my elbows in. They should have signs reading, “Keep your legs and arms inside the vehicle”, like they do at amusements parks. Walking in Manhattan was much like a rollercoaster; dangerously fast and curvy.
I reached the tallest building on the street and slid in passed the revolving door. Instead of a sleek and bland foyer like I expected most modern businesses to have, I entered a warm and cozy lobby. The colors radiated warmth. The walls were a golden beige and dark cherry wood was seen everywhere. I approached the front desk, which held two security officers joking with each other.
“Hello, I have an appointment with Ms. Beckett.” I said coolly, hoping to make a good impression. Any likes I could get here would help.
The first officer, a pudgy man with red cheeks who looked like my grandfather, snorted as he drank his coffee.
“Who did you say?” The second asked, looking just as startled as the first. I repeated the name and handed them my confirmation email, which the HR department had sent last week.
“Oh. Ok, yes that is the 24th floor, all the way to the top Miss.” The pudgy one spoke and smiled. The other opened his mouth to say something else, but pudgy interrupted. “Good luck with Ms. Beckett.” He said laughing at a silent joke.
“Ok, thanks.” I said, slipping the paper back into my briefcase. I signed into the guest lodge and walked towards the elevators, the only thing that looked advance in this entire lobby.
The 24th wasn’t the top floor, another floor was listed, but I listened to the security officers and pressed the button 24, satisfied when it lighted up.
“Ok Nora. Breathe and make sure you kill it.” I whispered to myself, smiling in the reflection. The bruise was still noticeable, but in the mood I was in, I barely noticed. In order to receive positive results, one had to bepositive. I firmly believed in the power of optimistic thinking.
I sent out a silent prayer as the doors slid open to reveal a much more modern office. Tall glass windows stood directly ion front of me, illuminating the workings of the offices behind them. Before I could get there though, I had to pass a rather large platinum desk. I approached the girl sitting behind the intimidating monstrosity and gently cleared my throat to get her attention. She looked up from her magazine and gasped, either from surprise of my appearance or my bruised eye, but I guessed the latter since she couldn’t stop looking there.
“Hi, I have an appointment with Cassidy Beckett.” I said, using her full name this time. She nodded once, as if surprised, and pulled out a stack of papers.
“Ok, just fill these out. Take a seat over there.” She smiled tightly, handing me a clipboard and pen. I did as she said, finding a few leather chairs and coffee table in the corner.
I was halfway through with the generic paperwork when I heard the elevator door slide open. I didn’t glance up, afraid to lose my place at the ‘Sexual Harassment’ contract. The deep voice of a man vibrated through the lobby and worked its way right through my bones. At that point, I couldn’t resist, and shyly glanced up at the receptionist’s desk.
I could only see his back, but what I could see was perfection. Two sturdy arms held papers as they handed them over to the secretary. His back muscles shifted as he did, and he oozed class. The navy blue suit was perfection with his dark blonde hair and I could only guess his face was just as magically sculpted as the rest of him. Oh shit he caught me staring.
I glanced back down at my paperwork and pretended to be engrossed by the words as he walked over to me.
“Miss Strong?” His slightly accented voice flowed through my body and made a quick landing down under. I glanced up as he said my name, did I know him?
“Yes.” I almost stuttered.
“I believe you are my 9:30. I’m Mr. Beckett.”