No ifs ands or buts about it.”
Surprisingly, I didn’t have the will power or the desire
to fight her. I was going to do exactly that, get my shit and
go. Putting my trench on, I grabbed me purse and followed
Samantha through the door. Samantha locked the office door
and moved close to walk me out.
“You taking the train or do you want me to call you a cab?”
Parting my lips to whisper a response, another voice answered
for me. “No need, Ms. Carlo. Oh good. Ms. Chase, you
are ready to go. My driver is waiting for you downstairs. I’ve
asked him to drive you to wherever it is you need to go. Oh,
and I really don’t have the time for you to argue this. And if you
have other stops to make, he’ll take you there as well. Just give
me a heads-up if you are going to take tomorrow off as well.
Good day.” And off Mason went.
Samantha stared at me. I stared at Samantha. Neither of us
could think of even one word that could explain, rationalize, or
describe what had just happened. At this point, nothing should
be said; we both knew it would only make matters worst.
Samantha held up her hand and shook her head no to make
sure I knew not to speak. Without another word, Samantha
walked me down to the entrance.
A black town car was waiting downstairs. A tall, thin older
gentleman was waiting by the rear door of the car. I had never
seen or met the man, yet as soon as he met my gaze, he opened
the door and motioned for me to come closer. “Ms. Chase,” said
the driver.
Samantha looked up at me and then at the driver, just astonished.
This had to be an episode of the Twilight Zone and
someone had forgotten to give us the scripts!
“Yes, yes, I am. Mr.…?” I extended my hand to him.
He had a kind and warm smile, which made me feel safe.
“Rhodes. Brant Rhodes. I am Alexander’s personal driver and
assistant. Alexander made sure to emphasize that you get anything
you needed before you got home so that you may rest.”
And the shit just kept getting weirder. Everything was
confusing. At this point all I could think was that at least one
question had an answer.
His name is Alexander!
“Are we taking you home, Miss?” The driver said softly as
I sat in the backseat waiting to depart. A departure that landed
home, straight into my bed, no detours allowed.
“Twelve-twenty-two Wayview Drive, Long Beach, please.
It’s on Long Island. Are you sure you want to go that far? I
can very easily get on a train.” I felt horrible letting him
drive me all the way to Long Beach and having to drive all
the way back alone to…I had no idea where Mason lived, but
probably some top floor of a building here on Park A venue.
“Oh, heavens no, Miss. I would drive for hours to get you
home safely, and it is not far. I drove you two evenings ago after
your birthday celebration. Please do not worry and enjoy the
ride. Is there anything you need before we go?” Glancing at me
through his rearview mirror waiting for me to reply, he smiled.
He had seen me as a drunken fool and now as an utter mess
who was being sent home—no, I was being escorted home—by
the boss’s driver. I was a pathetic sight! “Oh, heavens! Please
allow me to apologize for my disheveled and inappropriate behavior,
I—”
Brant stopped and turned his back to face me. “Miss, you
were never inappropriate, and if that was your most disheveled
state, then I imagine the gods themselves fall from the heavens
when you are at your finest.” Smiling, he turned, eyes back on
the road in front of him.
“Thank you very much. And no, I don’t need to stop elsewhere,
just home, please.” I declined politely and sank into my
seat in shame.
“Miss, may I be so bold as to ask you a question?” The
driver paused and awaited permission.
“Please, call me Eva. And there is no need to be so formal.
Of course you can ask me…well, anything.” I couldn’t help
but give some energy into the smile that appeared on my
face. I felt cozy and calm in his presence.
“Thank you, Eva, and that extends to you as well. Please
call me Brant. If I may, how long have you known Alexander?”
The question, or maybe the way it was asked, was just
strange, like he knew more about all of this. And he must
have seen that I felt strange, because he immediately turned
and tried to withdraw his question. “I apologize for being
rude. If there is nothing else, Miss, we shall take you home
then.”
I said, “Brant? Please don’t think you have offended me or
been rude in any way. My affect is, well…out of whack today.
I’m sorry. I have not known Mr. Mason very long. I actually…
Well, I just met him last night. Well, I was introduced to him
officially last night, but we met on Saturday. So, I haven’t actually
known him for more than twenty-four hours. Now, if I may
be so bold as to ask you a question, why do you ask?”
Brant smiled from ear to ear, and as he pulled away from
the curb, he responded, “No reason, no reason at all. I was just
curious. He was very worried about your safe return home. I
have never driven anyone home at his request.”
And as he answered, I was OK with leaving it as just that.
Tilting my head against the seat cushion, I fell instantly asleep.
After an hour-and-a-half drive home, Brant woke me softly,
as not to frighten me. “Eva. Eva, my dear, you are home.”
My eyes slowly fluttered open with no urgency trying to
recall how and why I was here. “Thank you, Brant, truly. I can’t
tell you how thankful I am for you today. Please, get back safe.”
I would normally have extended my hand, but I just felt the
need to embrace him.
“The pleasure has been all mine, my dear Eva. Please rest
up. You are so charming, while so tired; I look forward to the
sight of you in full strength and form. Good day, my dear.”
The next eight hours were a blur. I barely recalled how or
when I got into the house or how I managed to get upstairs and
into bed. The amazing thing is, as I regained wakefulness, I felt
as I had forty-eight hours prior: no weight on my shoulders, no
tension in my stomach, no mindless rambling in my head. I
had finally gotten some rest.
“Aaaaahhh…” Yawning, I stretched hard, loud, and with
strength. I felt like I was back in my own skin, my body, and
fully in control. I sat myself up in my king-size bed, which I
often felt was too big and too lonely, but now was comfortably
large, and I laid out my choices.
Any time a plan had to be concrete, I had to plan it out
with myself, speaking aloud. I spoke as if addressing the audience
within my mind. “So, I still have my amazing job that I
love so much and was afraid I was going to lose. So that’s off my
list of things to worry about. Pat and Kelly are gone, but I will
see Pat often since we became good friends as well as colleagues.
In fact I will see him in a week and a half, so that problem is off
my worry list too. Samantha is great. Derek is gone. OK, girl,
now the big one. What are you going to do with Alexander?”
As he appeared in my mind, the words replayed—what to do
with him…or to him—and I felt a tingle in between my thighs.
I had to rephrase my words.
“How are you going to handle being an amazing director
while working for Mr. Mason? Why do I need to change
anything? Everything he’s heard, any projects of mine he has
seen, have been from me. Me, who has worked hard for PHI
for seven years. Why am I even trying to find a solution to a
nonproblem?”
I pondered the question I posed to myself and realized that
my problem was not how to do my job. My problem was how
to do my job while all I could think of was fucking the boss. It
was all very new; I was sure the gloriousness of him would fade
once we got down to business. “Yes, that’s it. Strictly business!
Ah, that feels so good. My list is gone. Shit, and I wasted a day
of my life to figure this out. Idiot!”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Hello?” Samantha answered the phone a bit uneasy, not sure
how she would find me.
“Hello, my dear sweet angel and friend. That voice of yours
sure sounds dry. May I offer you some libations so as to celebrate
the overcoming of my day of utter mental breakdown?”
Pausing, I hoped that I would get a giggle out of Samantha,
but I got that and a whole lot more.
“Halle-fucking-lujah! You come back from purgatory, and
as the same crazy bitch I know and love. Oh, Eva, I can’t tell
you how good it is to hear your voice sound so free and happy.
Wait, you’re not faking it, are you? Because if you are, I’m
gonna be pissed, and you have to work on this directly and not
push it—”
The laughter that came from me was spontaneous and loud.
“Saaammmm, shut up already. I’m good, girl, I’m real good.
Now are we going out to celebrate or what?”
Playfully, Samantha cheered on the other line, “Yeeaaahh!
Oh my God, how’d you do it? You got laid, didn’t you. Not
Derek; please tell me it wasn’t Derek. He told me the story, by
the way, not that it matters. He’s an ass. Anyway, tell me, where
do you want to go? Local?”
“No, I need the raw nightlife tonight; I want to go to
Black’s. You in?” I was determined to enjoy everything tonight:
people, surroundings, my friend, and most of all, me in my own
skin again.
Something made Samantha change her cheering voice to a
subtle tone. “Wait, Black’s, as in The Black Lounge? Ev, you sure
you wanna go there? I don’t want you to try to pull some brave
self-therapy shit, facing your demons, and then get all upset.”
Her words silenced the room and forced me to contemplate
what she was saying on the other end. But it turned out
I wouldn’t be saddened. It was a place I shared with people I
cared for, Pat specifically. The memories at Black’s were happy,
and nothing in there would sadden me. On the contrary, it
would be comforting.
“I’m good, I swear. It makes me happy to go there and reminisce
with you, not sad. So, are you in, or am I going alone?”
Samantha’s silence breathed peace. Everything was as it
should be—as it always was. “You bet. I’ll meet you out front
in sixty. Love ya!”
“Love ya too!” We ended the call at the same time.
I walked, with no rush in my step, into the master bathroom.
I had an hour to shower and dress for the night ahead before
Samantha would arrive. I stood at the vanity and unclipped
my hair. I removed my dress shirt and bra, which were the only
clothes that remained from the day. The softness of my black
locks draped on my shoulders and down my soft, arched back,
the ends swaying against my skin, giving me chills.
It felt superior and warm. And, at times, feeling this good
in my own skin, I could admire…Eva.
My reflection, unlike the last two days, was soft and glowing,
and made me smile. I no longer looked tired or weak. My
hazel eyes sparkled under the dimmed lights. I was the picture
of strength, intelligence, charm, and, above all, sex.
Women have a distinct glow about them when they are
ready to pounce, and I clearly embodied that glow.
I could not determine the cause for my meltdown, nor did
I want to or plan on approaching the subject. If I did, I would
definitely go back into a tailspin, and I just couldn’t allow that,
not tonight. I liked the power I had, more precisely, the feeling
of power I had just then.
With only my thong left, I walked over and turned on the
showerhead and the body jets. I wanted to be consumed and
penetrated by the strong, beating water. I needed to be filled to
the core, and not just by the shower.