Running From Forever (4 page)

“Yes and hell no!”

She snickered. “Bitch?”

The elevator doors opened on my floor and I
sighed, propping the phone on my shoulder to unlock my door.
“That’s putting it nicely.
And
she has me on fucking
probation like I’m some frickin’ science experiment.”

“Isn’t that how every job is, though?”

“Huh?” I asked, completely dumbfounded. None of
my jobs had
ever
started out like that.

“Not with an evil boss,” she clarified. “But
with a trial run. Most jobs give you a certain amount of time to
see how things go. They just don’t say it out loud.”

“Like devil woman did?”

She laughed. “Is she really
that
bad?”

I kicked my shoes off and threw my things on the
counter, plopping down on my chair sideways and letting my feet
dangle off the side. “Every time she called me today, she didn’t
even say hi or bye. She rattled off whatever she needed done, then
would just hang up.”

“Yikes.”

“Oh, that’s just the start of it.”

“Well, other than your boss being a bitch, did
you like it?”

“Yeah, I think I can handle it. I just need to
learn and stay on top of everything. But oh my God, I almost forgot
to tell you!”

“What?” Leah’s voice turned anxiously
intrigued.

“I met a gorgeous guy in the elevator.”

“How cliché.”

“What do you mean?”

“First day on the job in a big city, in a fancy
building to boot, and you meet a hot guy in an elevator. He was
probably all decked out in an expensive suit with his hair slicked
back, too, right?”

Pulling the phone from my ear, I looked at it,
confused.
How the hell did she know that?
“Uh yeah,” I
replied, confused.

“God, K! Stay away from him.”

“What? Why? He was gorgeous and so GQ…” I tried
to point out. “And not to mention, he seemed into me.”

She sighed loudly. “I know you’re trying to up
your standards and find someone who’s wealthy and well off and
professional, but just watch out for him. Authors write romance
novels about those types of people.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that comment. “Oh,
please,” I complained. “What types of people?”

“I’m serious, K. Guys you meet in elevators are
always the ones with a secret or some shady life or something.”

“You read too much.”

“Whatever. Just don’t say that I didn’t warn
you.”

“Note taken. I’ll probably never see him again
anyway.”

“Good!”

I let out an exasperated sigh. “Well, since you
just shot down my dream of marrying a rich businessman, I have a
date with my bathtub and the pint of Cherry Garcia in my
freezer.”

“Sorry, friend, but I’m glad you made it through
your first day!”

“Thanks, I’ll talk to you tomorrow or
something.”

“Alrighty. Bye, K.”

I chuckled to myself as I walked over to the
freezer to get my ice cream. Leah cracked me up.

Authors write romance novels about those
people my ass.

The next day I woke as I did the day before—a
little earlier than necessary. I showered, did my makeup, and put
on another professional outfit accompanied by faux diamond earrings
and a necklace. Knowing that I had the extra minutes, I took my
time blow drying and curling my hair into nice, loose ringlets.
After doing the twirl in front of my full length mirror, I was the
new Kayla Reynolds: sophisticated, professional, and living up to
my new, mature, put together businesswoman style.

This time when I entered the taxi, I had the
address for ETV ready and spit it out like a true New Yorker would.
The morning was going perfect; even the weather was sunny. I was
ahead of my game and even looking forward to facing off with
Connie. That is, until I walked into the elevator and met my
match—the only man that had ever made my insides crawl with just
one glance and given me the desire to move in as close as possible
to catch a whiff of his scent. There he was—the man from
yesterday—the man that Leah
warned
me to stay away from.

“Ms. Reynolds,” he greeted simply with a grin.
Although grins are normal when pleasantly greeting someone, there’s
nothing normal about the one he wore—curled up on only one side,
exposing a dimple that you just want to put your lips on, and those
eyes…yes, they sparkled when he smiled. There’s no questioning this
man’s looks. He’s gorgeous. Sleek, confident in the way he talks,
and head-to-toe slick businessman. I could’ve stood there all day
and admired him, but I acted unaffected, standing upright,
answering with a simple, “Good morning,” as I pressed the number to
my floor and then faced forward next to him.

“Did you have a good first day yesterday?” he
asked once the doors shut, glancing down quickly at me when he
spoke, his eyes returning forward after.

I did the same, only looking up to him with a
smile when I answered, “I did. Thanks for asking,” before returning
my eyes straight forward, staring at the metal mirror of the doors,
noticing how well we look beside one another—professional and
gorgeous (well, at least him), we could’ve been in a suit
advertisement.

“I like your hair like that.”

“Excuse me?” I asked, caught off guard. I looked
up at him, puzzled.

“Your hair.” He looked down at me again while
answering. “I like it down like that. It’s beautiful. You should
never wear it up,” he continued, eyes moving along the length of my
hair almost like he was admiring it.

A warm heat filled my body. He was complimenting
me, and I liked it; my body liked it. It was like someone ignited a
flame inside—I was burning with excitement. I smiled. I couldn’t
help it, nor could I help the redness forming on my cheeks; he was
making me blush.

“Thank you,” I replied, hating the small giggle
that followed it. I didn’t want to seem affected by him. I didn’t
want to be submissive like most women probably are with him.
Although the old Kayla would’ve already made plans to indulge in
what lies beneath that three piece suit, the new Kayla won’t.
I’m a professional now.
Professionals don’t throw their
bodies around to just anyone. I needed to keep myself together.

Thankfully, before he could say anything else or
I made a further fool of myself, the elevator doors chimed open on
his floor.

“Have a good day, Ms. Reynolds,” he said,
turning to face me and holding the elevator doors open as he did
yesterday. This time he did something different. His eyes carried
from mine down the length of my body, leaving a blazing line of
fire in their wake.

Holy hell.
My breath hitched when he got
to my lower torso, flipping a switch in between my legs and making
it pulse immediately. I couldn’t help it. He certainly affected
me…and he knew it.

“We all go out after work on Tuesdays; do you
wanna come?” Sami asked, approaching my desk at a little after
three in the afternoon.

She couldn’t have asked at a better time. I was
exhausted, my feet killing me, and I had a headache on the verge of
exploding in my head. I needed a drink…badly.

I let out an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Love
to.”

She laughed, picking up on my exhaustion.
“Connie working you to the bone today?”

“Oh, ya know, she only had me running around the
city with my head chopped off for most of the day, but whatever,” I
joked sarcastically even though it was true. At one point I had to
pick up her dry cleaning down the street only to have to bring it
across town to a hotel where she was attending a dinner tonight and
then hurry back to the office with her lunch.

“Sounds like Connie,” she chuckled. “I’ll come
get you before I leave,” she added, still sounding amused before
walking away.

With an end in sight and somewhere to actually
go after work besides home to hang around by myself, I hurried back
to what I was working on, making sure to have everything done by
five.

An hour later, I was startled by my personal
cell phone buzzing in my purse. I looked around, making sure no one
could see as I retrieved it. I wasn’t sure if there was a rule for
using a personal cell phone during work and I didn’t want to give
Connie any ammunition. My stomach just about hit the floor when I
saw who the missed text was from.

Trevor.

I had been so busy the last couple days with
work that I hadn’t really thought about Trevor or our break up. I
had brushed it under the table, assuming that I wasn’t going to
hear from him since it’d been three days now, but I was
mistaken.

The anxiety was soaring my veins as I unlocked
the screen. I even contemplated not looking, but how cowardly would
that be? Probably even more than breaking up with him in a letter.
I owed him this. After all I’d done to him, I at least owed him the
respect of seeing what he had to say and responding.

Trevor:
You didn’t leave
your new address. I have all your shit still here.

My heart clenched at his obvious anger and hurt
towards me. Trevor was never one to argue. He was reasonable,
caring, and very loving, but when he was mad, you knew it. He was a
big, athletic guy but the picture of a big teddy bear, especially
when he was all gushy and madly in love with someone. And I
trampled all over it. I took advantage of his love and
faithfulness, and tore his heart to shreds…in a letter.

I was awful. Horrid. Selfish. I knew this, it
wasn’t a secret, but I had to do it. I had to leave. I had dreams.
Goals. Trevor loved Cortland. He loved the small town feel, he
loved everyone knowing his name, greeting him as he walked down the
street. That wasn’t me; that wasn’t what I pictured myself doing in
five or ten years. This, living in a big city, in the middle of the
hustle and bustle…that was me.

I had to leave. I would’ve regretted staying.
Yes, maybe I could’ve left a different way; I could’ve sat down and
explained it all, but I suck at goodbyes. I don’t like
disappointing people, and I sure as hell don’t like seeing it
written all over their faces. Having to be here right away was my
excuse; it was the perfect excuse to up and leave with little
warning and no time to explain. Pure and simple: I ran.

I sat there for a moment, thinking about how to
respond. Do I try to explain? Tell him again why I had to leave?
That it wasn’t him, it was me?
Ugh.
That’s the worst cliché
break up line, but it was true; my leaving was for my selfish
reasons only, it had nothing to do with him. Though, if everything
was cookie cutter perfect, and I was exuberantly happy, I wouldn’t
have had reason to leave, I would have wanted to stay…

“You look very lost in thought. Should I come
back at a different time?” a deep masculine voice startled me.