Covet (2 page)

M
ichelle Bloom was
anxious that morning. Her boss, Barrett Evers, hadn’t been to this particular office in almost a year. He’d been busy on projects in Atlanta, New York, and London. His father had been opening a casino in Macau, something else that had kept Barrett away. But now that the Evers were opening a new property in Las Vegas, the pressure was on to make life in the office as smooth as possible. Michelle knew the pressure wasn’t coming from anyone but herself. The Evers were more than just her bosses, they had become familiar friends that she both loved and respected. Barrett had dated her daughter, for heaven’s sakes, though they’d kept it a secret from everyone right up until the end of it. But it didn’t mean she didn’t feel like she owed it to them to make sure her office was in top order. And Barrett in particular was her favorite Evers of them all. He was good people, especially for someone with his means. So she wanted his first day back to be just perfect.

So far, things seemed to be fine. Fortunately Jett Stanley was out of town. He tended to be the highest maintenance of the VPs and was the executive Michelle always had to cater to the most. So having him gone was like getting rid of half her trouble. There would (hopefully) be no odd requests coming from anyone this morning, or Jett’s wife popping in unexpectedly with her demands and criticisms of the break room and waiting room lobby. You would think her husband owned the place the way she treated the staff.

Arista Holmes, the front receptionist, had shown up to work that morning in a dress that looked more suited for a club appearance than a work space. Arista was pleasant enough, but Michelle had a hunch that there wasn’t much going on upstairs with her. It was difficult to hold a conversation with Arista about much of anything. But other than not knowing the proper dress code for her job, she was a decent worker. There had been no complaints at least. And Jett Stanley’s wife couldn’t stand such a beautiful woman working near her husband which made Michelle appreciate Arista that much more. Jett’s current wife was the third one since Michelle had been working with him and she suspected, sadly, she wouldn’t be the last.

Michelle had housekeeping come in at 6 AM to spruce up the office. Not that it needed much sprucing up, it was still very new and they had it cleaned every week anyway. But still. She’d also made sure lunch would be catered by Barrett’s favorite deli and every phone call that came in today would be screened by her personally. Not that she didn’t trust Arista, but she didn’t want to leave anything to chance. And being that Arista had yet to meet Barrett she thought it best to cover things herself. A couple of weeks ago Michelle had caught Arista reading the latest tabloid magazine with Barrett on the cover with some B list television star who happened to be leaving The Ivy at the same time he was. So she knew Arista would probably be a bit star struck at first. Her nerves might mean she’d make a mistake and Michelle didn’t want to risk that.

It wasn’t that she feared Barrett. Of his siblings he had always been the most laid back. Michelle had known him since he was a young boy. Her children had even been playmates with him and he was still friends with her son, Ben. Scarlet, her daughter, refused to take part in any conversation pertaining to him, but luckily that hadn’t bled over into Michelle’s work. She also wanted to show him the respect he deserved. Being the son of a billionaire like Rhett Evers had its downfalls. Barrett would always be in the shadow of his patriarch and Michelle always wanted to make the effort to show Barrett he was very important to her and this office. Barrett was her boss but he was also someone that her sister cared about deeply. So she did her best to do right by him.

Besides, he also signed her checks. Or paid the person that did sign them, anyway.

“Arista, would you mind making a cup of coffee for Mr. Evers?” Michelle asked as she fanned out the magazines on the table in the lobby. “He prefers it dark. The Keurig should have some next to it. No cream or sugar.”

“Of course, Michelle,” Arista said as she sashayed into the breakroom. Michelle couldn’t help but watch her seductively strut through the lobby.
I don’t know how she walks in those shoes,
thought Michelle. Michelle would have worn Crocs or Keds if she could get away with it. Nancy made her wear Tory Burch flats.

“You need a little bit of style if you’re going to work for the Evers. You’re in your fifties but you dress like an old school marm,” Nancy would tease.

Michelle couldn’t help it. She thought fashion was a waste of time at her age. In her wild days of youth she’d worn the tight hip huggers, the flared jeans, the Candie’s mules, and macramé cropped tops. She’d met her husband at a Lynyrd Skynyrd concert while high off magic mushrooms. So Michelle remembered what it meant to be trendy and cool. But she also liked her life now. Low key, unassuming, and peaceful. Comfort was her goal at the end of the day.

Nancy had always been so different. Even now at almost sixty, Nancy was a label whore. Chanel was her preference followed by anything Burberry. Nancy must have owned twenty Burberry scarves and her most prized possession of all was a Hermes purse that Barrett bought her as a surprise for her 55
^th
birthday. She didn’t even carry it, she kept it in a glass display case in her living room so anyone walking in could stare at it.

“It’s too beautiful to actually use,” Nancy explained. “Maybe one day I can give it to Scarlet. When I’m dead and cold in the ground, of course.”

Scarlet was Michelle’s only daughter. She was everything that Michelle wasn’t; tempestuous, spunky, and incredibly opinionated. Sometimes Michelle wondered if maybe Scarlet was actually Nancy’s child but Michelle still had the C-section scar to prove she had indeed carried her beautiful daughter. Also she had Larry’s wavy hair and freckles. There was no doubt she belonged to them at one time. But ever since Scarlet had turned eighteen, she had belonged to the world.

When Michelle had found out Scarlet was dating Barrett, it caught her by surprise. When it ended just a month later, it didn’t surprise her at all. Scarlet had trouble committing to almost anything. But Michelle had her motherly intuition that there was more to the story of Barrett and Scarlet. She often wanted to ask her daughter what really happened, but any time the topic was broached, Scarlet completely shut down. So Michelle didn’t push.

But Michelle couldn’t think about that right now. Lately her concerns over Scarlet had distracted her from many a task and for now, that wouldn’t do. She had only one goal- get through this first day with Barrett. No hitches. No surprises.

S
carlet Bloom was
on her way to Las Vegas.

Not that anyone knew that. As with everything, Scarlet had decided to take the trip on a whim. Atlanta was boring her, as was her job, her roommate, her whole damn life. She was twenty-five years old and she had no clue what to do with herself. But she did miss her momma. And Momma was in Vegas now. So, to Vegas Scarlet would go.

She had hesitations. Scarlet knew her surprise visit would come with questions- and rightfully so. This would be the fourth job she had abandoned since graduating from Emory more than two years ago. It was not an aspirational trend that she was setting, and her mother and father made that very clear after leaving her second job.

“You can’t just leave things,” her mother lectured her. “I pulled some serious strings to get you hired-“

“Don’t remind me,” Scarlet cut her off, even knowing it was rude to do so. “I truly feel bad about it, Momma. But I can’t work in cubicle hell. I wasn’t born for it. No one was. It’s not natural to sit at a desk all day, hooked to a phone.”

“Well, it’s natural to want to have your bills paid. And it did that!” her father had scolded. “Some people would be grateful for such a thing.”

“I know,” Scarlet conceded. “But I was going crazy. Becoming physically ill. It wasn’t good for me. Wouldn’t you rather I be healthy? And happy?”

“That,” her mother said, “is a trick question. Of course we want both those things. But we also want you to be gainfully employed. You’re not a teenager anymore, Scarlet. And we’re not the Evers. We
have
to work.”

“Why would you mention them?” Scarlet’s anger flared. “What do they have to do with anything?”

Michelle, as usual, was perplexed by her daughter’s rage when the Evers were mentioned, “I was just using them as an example. We aren’t rich people, Scarlet. I wish I could give you the world on a platter and let you do whatever you desired, everything else be damned. But we don’t live in that world, sweetie. We have to work hard for the life we want.”

“And the life you want for me is not the life I want for myself,” Scarlet retorted. “And I can’t and won’t settle for one I can’t be excited about every day.”

“Well, la-dee-da, pumpkin. Welcome to the real world. Where people live lives they ain’t excited about in order to pay the rent,” her father said, rolling his eyes. “I didn’t raise such an entitled child.”

Scarlet, who adored her father most days, turned to him, “You raised me to have high expectations of myself and of others. If that’s entitlement than I guess I need to rethink my definition of it.”

Her father sighed, exasperated, “I don’t know what to do with you anymore.”

* * *

M
cCarran Airport was unusually
dead that day. As Scarlet wandered from her gate to the escalators that would take her to baggage claim, she noticed the slot machines were mostly empty, save for a couple of tired looking travelers, probably trying to just kill time before boarding. Usually the airport in Las Vegas was hustling and alive with excitement and possibility. Behind her on the plane some sorority girls on their way to a bachelorette party had gotten completely hammered midway through the flight. People went to Vegas for weekends they never wanted to forget but ones they also would never speak about in polite company either. Scarlet loved that about the city.

Her parents had lived there five years now, something that Scarlet found hard to believe. This would be at least her twelfth trip out to the desert, though it had been a good long while since her last one. As she struggled to recollect when the last one was, her cell phone buzzed in the back pocket of her jeans.

She pulled it out and glanced at the screen. It was her brother Ben. She was tempted to hit ignore but she’d already done that a few times in the last couple of days and she didn’t want to worry him.

“Hey,” she said, exasperated, knowing he was going to lecture her on her lack of communication.

“Well, I’m glad to hear your voice. I was about to drive my ass to Decatur,” Ben said, his voice showing no signs of joking. “What the hell, Scar? You can’t return a text?”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ve been busy. It’s a lousy excuse but you know me…”

She trailed off and he didn’t say anything for a moment. She could tell he was supremely pissed off.

“I worry about you,” Ben said. “I even texted your roommate. She said you had left for a trip? Where this time, sis?”

Dammit. Her roommate was such a narc.

“Vegas, actually,” Scarlet confessed. “Thought I’d surprise Mom and Dad.”

“Vegas? Don’t you have to work?”

The silence after his question said more than she could presently think to say out loud.

“Fuckin’ A, Scarlet,” Ben sighed. “They’re going to be so pissed you quit again.”

“And you wonder why I don’t return your calls,” Scarlet said. “Because I have to deal with my third parent, bitching me out.”

“I’m your brother, not one of your friends who don’t give a shit about you so they don’t tell you what you need to hear,” he said. “I just want to understand you, Scarlet. You’re super smart, talented, and have the potential to do great things. But you have to stick to
something
. What are you looking for?”

There was an awkward silence as he waited for an answer she wasn’t prepared to give him. Or even capable of giving.

“I gotta go,” she said. “It’s getting loud in here and I need to find the carousel my bag is at. I’ll text you later.”

“I love you, Scar,” Ben said.

“Me too,” Scarlet replied, and hung up.

W
hen Barrett arrived at Elixir
, he was pleasantly surprised at how calm the feel of the office was. He knew that would be changing in the coming months as they hired more staff and employees to fill the cubicles on the floor that accounting was using for now. There would be plenty of people in and out for interviews, meetings with executives, schmoozing with city officials, a big event for the mayor. But in this moment Barrett just enjoyed the calm before the storm. It was his first day back in the Las Vegas office in almost a year. So the first day being low key was just the right way for him to start off.

As soon as he stepped off the elevator onto the fortieth floor a familiar face greeted him.

“Mr. Evers! Welcome back!” Michelle Bloom’s round, sweet face had the biggest smile he’d seen since… well, the last time he’d seen her. Michelle was always smiling. She was possibly the happiest person on the face of the earth and Barrett adored her for how positive her energy always was. But seeing her reminded him of Scarlet, and his heart fell a little at the thought.

“Michelle, we’re friends. You know you can call me Barrett,” he laughed, bending down to hug her. Michelle was on the short side, and Barrett was tall, so it was always a little awkward.

“At work, you’re Mr. Evers,” she insisted. “And you look so much older to me now. Like you’ve grown up this year.”

“Maybe I have,” he admitted. “I’ve been pretty busy.”

“Nancy has said as much,” Michelle said, taking his briefcase and his jacket. “I’ll put these in your office. Arista, our new receptionist, left your coffee and paper at your desk.”

Before he could be reminded of who exactly Arista was, a knockout of a girl with raven hair and a skintight dress, shimmied her way towards him from the front desk. This, he could only assume was Arista.

“Hello, Mr. Evers,” she purred. “I’m Arista Holmes. The new receptionist. Or at least, new to you. I’ve been here about six months now. It’s very nice to finally meet you.”

He couldn’t help but take in her curves. It was startling how covered up she was yet how naked she might as well have been at the same time. The dress left little to the imagination. She was pretty in that high maintenance way that made him wonder what was really under all the layers of clothes and designer makeup. She was definitely attractive but she was also not his type at all. But even he had to admit there were worse things to look at in the morning. He could only imagine what Jett Stanley must think of her. As a matter of fact, if he recalled correctly, Jett had been in charge of hiring her.

He smiled and offered his hand, “Nice to meet you, Miss Holmes. I’ve heard great things from Michelle about you. I appreciate your hard work.”

Her hand was soft in his, her handshake very limp. Not the most impressive he’d ever had but he suspected she wasn’t a handshaking type of woman. She held on to his hand a beat too long, making it a little awkward.

“I love working here,” she gushed. “And I’m willing to work even harder than I already have been.” Her voice was lower now and she looked up at him from wide set eyes. She had incredible lashes. He couldn’t decide if they were real or not.

“
Anything
you need,” she practically whispered, “I can provide. At a moment’s notice, Mr. Evers.”

Oh my
. Well, this was something not many of his employees had offered him.

“Oh,” he said, suddenly off his professional game for a moment, “I appreciate it. I’ll be in my office for a while, catching up on things. Take messages for now, if anyone calls.”

She nodded and smiled, sashaying back to her desk.