Nickolas-1 (5 page)

“Monday morning, you’ll start working for me as my receptionist/secretary.

I’ll pay you six fifty a week and you’ll work Monday thru Friday and an occasional Saturday morning. Have no doubt that you’ll work very hard for that, too. The rent for the apartment will be a part of your salary. As of Thursday, you have insurance, dental, medical, and vision. Here.” He tossed a large envelope in her lap. “In that are your contract, medical information, and benefits. There’s also a credit card with the company name on it. You’ll use it for clothing and business needs. It’s a generous amount, but not over the top, so use it wisely. Any questions?” Morgan watched him stand up and move the tray away. She had eaten everything on the plates. She wouldn’t admit it to him, but she did feel a little better. But she wasn’t going to work for him.

“No, and hell no. I’m not working for you, Dr. Grant. I don’t need, nor do I want your charity, or whatever you feel this constitutes as. I’m quite capable of finding my…”

“Maybe you didn’t hear the part about where I give a shit what you want because I don’t, Ms. Becky. This is non-negotiable. According to the terms of your release, you find gainful employment within thirty days or they find it for you. For some reason, my mother likes you, and is concerned for your welfare.

Well, I don’t like you. You’ll work for me starting Monday or else.” He moved toward her door to leave. “One more thing, Ms. Becky. If you
ever
talk to my mom that way again, I will hurt you.”

Morgan pulled out the contract and read it over when her tray was taken away. It wasn’t really anything special. She’d work for him for one year, with the option to renew after six months. Also included in her benefits was a week vacation after the six months. She may or may not have to do some light traveling, but it would be completely paid for by the Grant Corporation. There was also a copy of the paperwork she had signed when she’d been released from prison. In addition to her finding gainful employment, she needed to have a permanent residence. Apparently, he’d read it over as well.

For the first time in her life, she had a job making more money in one week than she had in her entire life. She had an apartment that was furnished with someone else’s things in a building owned by the man she worked for and that hated her. A clothing allowance for things she didn’t have a clue how to purchase much less how to use the credit card she’d been given to buy them, and she had never been more depressed in her life.

When Dr. Grant the physician came in at eight the next morning she was dressed and had her meager belongings packed. The contract was signed and in the required envelope to give to Byron when he came to get her. By two o’clock, she was standing alone in what she was now thinking of as another prison, one that just had nicer walls.

Morgan watched the women coming out of the building. She had gone to three different professional buildings since her hospital release two days ago to see if she could get an idea what she would be required to wear to work every day. Most of them wore pants and sweater sets with nice shoes. She looked down at her notes and saw that all the women she’d been observing were dressed the same. Now she needed to go and purchase the clothes.

Morgan had left the Grant building at around four, just after she’d taken an inventory of the rooms. It was just a place she was staying and she doubted it would ever be a home to her. She was now armed with her list of needs and her money. She had found it in another yellow envelope on the kitchen table when she had been shown around the apartment by Byron earlier that morning. She’d already decided to just get what she needed for now and would get the extras on other trips.

Morgan found a bus route map and, using it, made her way across town to the Wal-Mart. She got a cart and went to the clothing department and set about getting what she needed.

Only able to wear white panties and bras since she could remember, Morgan looked at the pretty colors the bras came in and it made her smile. Just who she would buy them for, she couldn’t imagine, but bought a pink one with little lady bugs all over it for fun. Serviceable is what she needed, not fun, but she did it anyway.

The pants were a little tricky as she didn’t have any idea what size she wore since she had been wearing the kind that tied at the waist. Taking several sizes in the changing room, she pulled them on and if they buttoned and zipped and weren’t too long, they were her size, she figured. She had thought to only buy two pair, one black, the other blue, but the light gray ones were so nice that she got three. They were on clearance anyway so she didn’t mind the extra cost. Next on her list were shirts. She found a nice silky T-shirt that came in lots of colors, so she picked out five of them, red, white, blue, green and lavender, and added them to her cart. She was able to find a white sweater and a nice plain black shirt on the clearance rack for only two dollars each and got them as well. Instead of getting pantyhose, which seemed like they’d be hot, she purchased a pair of black thigh highs and a sensible pair of black flat shoes. After getting herself a towel, a bag of apples, and a sleeping bag, she went up front to pay.

Two hundred and twenty-three dollars and twelve of those little plastic bags later, she was waiting at the bus stop. She was dizzy with exhaustion and hurt in places she’d only thought of. While she waited on the bus, she consolidated as much as she could. She put a lot of the clothing in her large bag. By the time the bus pulled up, she had managed to narrow it down to the sleeping bag she planned to use instead of the blankets and four very tightly packed little ones.

Morgan nearly missed her stop as she had dozed off for a minute and had only just gotten up to get off before the driver moved forward. Setting down her bags outside the Grant building door, she dug though her pockets to find her ID

when David opened the door for her and helped her in.

“Thank you very much, sir. I appreciate the help.” She moved over to the elevators with her burdens and pushed the button to go up.

“Ms. Becky? I...I wanted to say how sorry I am about the other day. I shouldn’t have grabbed at you. That just wasn’t right. I just wanted to let you know, okay?” She looked up at the man and smiled. No one had ever told her they were sorry before.

“It’s all right, Mr. Tulles. No harm done, really, at least not to me. I’m very sorry about your head. I didn’t mean to hit you that hard.” The doors opened for her and she hesitated just a moment before continuing. “I...I’m staying in Mr.

Byron’s apartment now. I work for Dr. Grant on the top floors. Just in case you see me around, I can be here now.” Without waiting for him to reply, she stepped into the elevator and pushed the button for the fourth floor.

Later that night, after she’d taken a two hour nap, she sat looking out the window to the street below. She’d tried sleeping in the big bed, but she couldn’t relax. She’d finally had to take her sleeping bag into the bathroom and put it in the tub. It was more what she was used to, the tightness of the room and there was only the door, no windows for anyone to get in. Now she was sitting at the kitchen table thinking about her life.

There was no family that she was aware of. She’d spent the first seventeen years of her life in a state run facility for homeless children. Morgan had never been adopted like most babies brought into the home. They had said it was her coloring. Her hair was a deep red and her eyes were the lightest blue, and her skin was so white it defied description. She was also tall for her age.

When Morgan looked in the mirror, she saw a woman, not even a pretty woman at that. She’d heard people, women included, tell her she was beautiful, but she just didn’t see it.

Morgan worked hard and stayed to herself even as a small child. She discovered early she had a photographic memory and could learn languages very quickly. That had served her well throughout high school and her little bit of college she’d taken on the outside. Then when she was able to, she had taken classes to finish up her degree and now had a BA in business management. Not that it had done her a lot of good. Once people saw that she had been an inmate of the State Pen, they stopped right there.

Morgan reflected on her life on the inside. She’d spent the first eighteen months in the infirmary. Having been raped and beaten as badly as she had, it was months before she could even walk very far. Then there was the two self-inflicted gunshot wounds, one to her head the other to her left shoulder. Her hand had taken the longest to heal. She had broken it in four different places that night so that she could get the cuff off her wrist to escape.

Randall Bennett had told her that she was going to die. She hadn’t cared at that point whether or not she did, but he was definitely going to. When he had left her to go upstairs to get his gun, she had begun slamming her hand hard against the wall between the cot headboard and the wall.

After the first two breaks, she pretty much hadn’t felt the other two and with the help of her blood, was able to get her right hand out of the cuff and drop to the floor, sliding the whole cuff out of its hanger. Dizzy from pain and exhaustion, she crawled to the door and waited for him.

When he came through the door, she tripped him and took his gun. It took her two tries to get the gun’s trigger to work; then she simply pulled it seven times and killed him. When the police arrived after a neighbor had called in the sound of gunshot, she was just putting the gun under her chin for the third time.

The first shot had gone awry and a ricochet had caught her in the shoulder. The second time, she’d let the gun slip and it grazed her head in a deep cut. The young officer begged her to stop and, in the end, had had to shoot her himself to prevent her from killing herself.

There hadn’t been a day that went by that she wished either his aim had been worse, or hers better.

Nick didn’t expect her to show. It mattered little that she had signed the contract and had taken the apartment; he knew her type. He looked down at the file his investigator had given him yesterday at home and frowned. Well, he amended, he thought he knew her type.

The detective had managed to dig up her entire file, including pictures of her arrest and her penal file. He couldn’t for the life of him understand why she had been convicted in the first place. She had obviously been a victim of the first order. She hadn’t even been able to attend her own trial as she had been so severely injured that she had been put into a medical coma for nearly three months to heal. He was sure if she’d have had Devin as her lawyer, she never would have seen the inside of a cell.

Nick had told her to be here at eight o’clock and he had come in at six-thirty wanting to get caught up as much as he could. He heard her in the outer office talking to David at six-fifty. He went to his office door and leaned against the jamb, listening to them.

“If that door gives you anymore issues, just call downstairs and I’ll have facilities see to it for you. No telling how long you’d have been stranded in there if’n I hadn’t been doing my walk then.”

“Thanks, Mr. Tulles. I was really grateful to see you. Thank you again.” David saw him first, and she jerked around when he straightened up and looked over her shoulder.

“Morning, Dr. Grant. Ms. Becky had herself some problems with the door on the stairwell.” David tipped his hat at the man and left.

Nick watched her walk to the little break area that the previous secretary had insisted on having, and listened to the cabinet open then close. He assumed she was putting her lunch away and she’d be out soon. He waited for five more minutes before he went to see what she was doing and nearly plowed her over when she finally came out.

“I’m sorry. I was...good morning, Dr. Grant. I’ll just get started.” She moved around him and toward the desk. She was carrying that huge ass bag with her, but other than that, she looked...very nice. He also noticed that she was still limping. Not as badly as in the hospital, but noticeably.

“Do you need more time off? Let me take you down to see Damon. He’s a good doctor and this could be serious. I won’t have you falling over here and claiming Workman’s Comp.” He saw her stiffen at his words.

“Thank you for your nice concern, Dr. Grant, but I’ll be just fine.” He flushed; he’d been neither nice nor concerned-sounding. He hadn’t meant for it to come out quite like that and felt bad. “Ms. Becky, Morgan, I didn’t...” He didn’t know what he’d been about to say, but she cut him off.

“Mrs. Wayne will be here soon. She’s going to set me up on the computer with email and things. She asked me to have you make a list of the things you’d like me to have access to of yours. I believe she mentioned your appointment calendar and scheduler.”

Nick knew he was being dismissed, but didn’t know how to get out of it.

He’d been an ass and she wasn’t going to say anything.
Fine!
If that’s the way she wanted it, then he’d go back in his office.

Nick sat at his desk for a solid three hours not doing a damned thing. He did look online and booked Morgan a day at the spa. He didn’t tell her, of course, but he did mark it on the calendar that they would share. He felt stupid for his earlier comments and wanted to make up for it. When there was a knock at his door, he bellowed for whoever it was to enter. He was surprised to see his brother Byron.

“I can see you haven’t had your morning Joe yet. Wanna go down to the corner and get some? My treat.” He had flopped down in one of the wingback chairs that faced his desk and put his feet up.

“No. I have to make a list of things that my new secretary might need of mine. You know, calendars and appointments for scheduling for me. Rachel is going to set her up with her system today.” Why he sounded so petulant, he didn’t know.

“Rachel Wayne? She just left. Maybe Morgan didn’t need your list after all.

Come on, go down with me. I need to have an old man with me so I look better to the new waitress they got. She has nice...yeah. Go with me.” Nick stood to leave and go with him when his cell phone went off.