Worst Week Ever (A Long Road to Love) (14 page)

BOOK: Worst Week Ever (A Long Road to Love)
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Had he just
fired her? Blinking, trying to stave off unwanted tears, she slowly edged
around the desk, opened the desk drawer and retrieved her purse. “We’ll talk
when you aren’t so angry,” she said, refusing to accept she’d lost her job over
this.

“When hell
freezes over. Now leave!”

Unable to bear
any more of his fury, she ran to the door and bee-lined to the elevator. Once inside,
she burst into heaving sobs.
What the hell just happened?

Never had
Trent become so angry before. His words didn’t just echo his hateful father. This
time he meant them.

When the
elevator door opened to the lobby, people rushed in before she could push out.
She tried to fight her way through, but the doors closed before she could get
around the lard ass in front of her. Her anger focused on their sorry staff
returning from their concession break. They were without doubt the worst
employees in the world.

A voice in her
head reminded her of the ugly change in her life.
It’s not your staff. It’s
Trent’s. You might not even work here anymore.

Once the
elevator stopped on the fifth floor and everyone shuffled out, she pushed the
button, relieved and yet brokenhearted that Trent hadn’t stood at the elevator
doors, desperate to call her back. In the past, when he’d occasionally
channeled his father, he would always regret his outburst and apologize soon
after.

She didn’t
expect an apology this time. He’d spoken from heartfelt rage. Her mind replayed
his words. She’d crossed a line. He’d told Chris to sit back down and she’d
told the boy to go, overriding his order. Normally, she would’ve taken Trent
aside, explained why she thought allowing Chris to take the test seemed the
better path, but she had to act at once. If he didn’t show up on time, the
professor might’ve denied him admission.

While Chris
had a lot to answer for, she didn’t believe making him sit at his desk would
accomplish anything other than destroying his future.

So I
destroyed my career instead. Way to go.

She wished her
mind would just shut up. She felt bad enough without facing the consequences of
her action. Tears rained upon her shoes.

When the
elevator opened to the lobby, she faced another mob of worthless employees
wishing to return to their desks. No way in hell would she take another trip up
in this damn elevator. This time she’d fight her way out even if she had to
kill someone.

“Coming
through!” she growled and elbowed her way out, ignoring the chorus of curses.

With head down,
she pushed forward, hoping no one would see her reddened eyes. When she reached
the sliding door, she stomped on the floor, waiting in impatience as the right
panel slowly opened. An angry slash of red smeared across the glass above her
head. How symbolic of her day. When the door finally opened, she stormed
outside and ran into some poor man.

“Sorry,” she
muttered and turned right and headed down the sidewalk, growling whenever
people didn’t get out of her way. Why, just because of her diminutive height,
did everyone think she never deserved the right-of-way? Why did she always have
to step aside?

Well, not
today. She’d just lost her job and her best friend; she refused to yield her
right-of-way, too.

I just
called Trent my best friend?

How pathetic!
Who makes their boss their best friend? Only someone with no friends, that’s
who.

But where
would she have found a friend? She did nothing but work, sleep, and commute.
It’s not as if she could find a social life during her train ride.

Train ride.

She came to an
abrupt halt, causing people to crash into her back and curse. She returned
their curses, edged into a door pocket and turned into the corner so she could
open her purse without being robbed.

Or not.

Fear gripped
her as someone moved close against her back.

“I have a gun,
and given how pissed off I am, I
will
use it,” she warned.

“Strong words
said with conviction. If I’d been a robber, I’d either stab you fatally in the
back or run like hell.”

Recognizing
the voice, she breathed out in relief and turned to Sam. “What are you doing
here?”

An adorable
grin spread on his face. “Trying to figure out what you’re doing. Have you ever
considered roller derby as a pastime?”

“I don’t have
pastimes.” Her face puckered as she realized she’d have time to take up one
now.

“Hey.” With a
voice full of worry, he stepped closer to her, giving her the choice to press
against his warm chest or the grimy black stone that stank of urine. She chose
Sam.

“Come on,” he
said as he led her across the sidewalk toward Trent’s limo.

She stopped
like a mule. “No, I’m not getting in his car.”

“Okay.” Sam
opened the front door. “This part’s mine.”

“You think so,
but one day he’ll fire you and then see whose car it is.”

“He who has
the keys, possesses the car.” Sam gently shoved her in and closed the door.

She tried to
get out while he rushed to his side, but her door wouldn’t open. The next
moment he slid inside and pulled the car into traffic. “Where would you like to
go?”

“Home, but my
monthly transit pass is buried somewhere in my two feet of mail, and my credit
cards are maxed out because Trent insisted I buy this stupid suit today so I
could up-sell an unhappy customer and then convince the best head hunter in
this city to help us find a new staff.”

Tears welled
in her eyes. “And what’s my reward for all my hard work? He fired me.”

The limo leapt
a full foot to the right before Sam got it under control. “Are you sure?”

She nodded.
“He told me to leave and return when hell freezes over.”

“What’d ya
do?”

His question
earned him a glare. Why did he assume she was at fault?

He grimaced.
“I’m not saying a sane person would think whatever you did was ‘wrong’. Only,
you had to do something really hurtful to Trent for such a response, because hands
down, you’re his favorite person in the world.”

His words made
her cry even harder. “I thought him my best friend.”

“So what
happened?”

She had no
idea. Yesterday had been a day of transformation. She’d seen Trent as a better
man than she’d ever imagined. And despite his horrible friend, a part of her
had hoped they might become partners, both at work and personally. Even today,
he’d been so proud of her handling of the chair fiasco…He’d tugged her hair...
Everything had been like a fairy tale until she countermanded one order to save
a kid from having his life ruined. Just like that, her Prince Charming turned
into a fire-breathing dragon. She stared out the window, fighting back a burst
of tears.

She needed the
peace of her home to figure out what to do. Should she wait until Trent calmed
and explain her actions, or should she just thank God she’d found out that a demon
hid beneath the wonderful man she’d fallen in love with
.

Damn it!
Why was he so wonderful yesterday and this morning? If he’d screamed at me at
the airport, I would have quit…might have quit.
But what would he do
without me? What will he do? He needs me.

“Can you just
take me home?”

“Now? When
half of New Jersey wants to drive home? No. But I’ll take you to my favorite
bar and you can tell me what happened. Then once the traffic lightens, I’ll
drive you home.”

She sniffled.
“Is there any chance of Trent coming to this bar?”

“None
whatsoever.”

“Then let’s go
there.”

He smiled.

They had just
crossed into Brooklyn when Sam’s phone rang. “Don’t make a sound,” he warned
and engaged the call. “Yes, Master Trent? Nope. Still looking. I’ve covered the
mostly likely paths she might have taken to the train station. No sign of her,
but I’m parking the car so I can go into Penn Station and check the NJ transit
lobby…Good point, I’ll lurk outside the bathroom.”

Sam rolled his
eyes at whatever Trent replied. “I’ll bribe some nice motherly-looking woman to
do that….Yeah, but remember, my phone won’t work in there. I’ll call you when I
come out.”

He handed her
the phone.

She shook her
head in panic. Nothing good would come of talking to Trent right now. She
needed to calm down, evaluate what had happened, and figure out what outcome
she wanted before she spoke to her boss…former boss. Her current anger and
sense of betrayal impeded all rational thought on the matter.

“He’s gone.
Would you turn it off while I drive? It’s against the law to drive and talk,
not that Master Trent cares if I get tickets. I’ve tried to explain money
doesn’t make my ticket troubles go away. They come with points, and three
tickets could result in me losing my license. And then where would Master Trent
be?”

No doubt, he’d
be furious and fire poor Sam. “You should just ignore him if you’re driving.”

“Master Trent
gets terribly cranky if ignored.”

A painful huff
erupted from her chest. “You should see what happens if you override him.”

He pulled into
a half-full parking lot and pulled his limo in a slot with a sign declaring,
“Reserved for Master Trent’s Driver.”

Her panic
attack returned. “I thought you said Trent never comes here.”

Sam laughed.
“Do you think I’d dare put up that sign if there was any chance he’d show up?”

He got out,
and she tried to do the same, but the door still wouldn’t open. A second later,
he opened it from the outside and assisted her out.

“I don’t like
not being able to open my own door.”

He chucked her
beneath the chin. “Ah, your middle-class independence.” He handed her the keys.
“When we return, you can assist me in and out of the car.”

Her eyes
narrowed. “You better not be drunk when we leave here, because I only weigh
eighty pounds, and I can tell you from experience, I am terrible assistance for
tall drunk men.”

Her warning
resulted in a genuine smile stretching from ear to ear. “When you tire of
talking about Trent, I’d like to hear the story behind that comment.”

“I’m done with
Trent. He fired me and wants nothing more to do with me.”

Sam slipped
his arm around her shoulder. “I still want to hear about your firing, but tell
me the drunken tall man story first.”

When they
entered the bar, everyone inside yelled “Sammy” in unison.

He flew them
the bird and smiled at her. “Don’t ever call me Sammy.”

He led her to
a booth in the very back and slid in beside her instead of sitting on the opposite
bench. She frowned at his forwardness.

He must have
noticed because he leaned in and whispered, “I’m sitting here for two reasons.
First, if I don’t, these guys will discover a great need to talk to me and sit
beside you while they chat. Some of them don’t bathe but once a week.”

She managed a
one-breath chuckle. “And what’s the second reason.

“I need to
keep an eye on them. This is not a group to turn your back on.”

“I thought
they were your friends.”

“They are. But
they love to prank.”

The men did
seem prone to arm punches, beer spewing, and bar nut battles. “They remind me
of the inmates in the monkey cage at the Bronx zoo.”

He chuckled.
“Give ‘em an hour. They just got here. Monkeys are far better behaved.”

A pretty,
blonde waitress hurried over. “Sorry, Sam, I didn’t see you.”

“You’ve gone
deaf?” he challenged.

“No, but for
the last hour, they’ve been calling everyone who enters ‘Sammy’. Besides, you
said you’d be late tonight, and you’re two hours early.”

“Technically,
I’m still at work. Which reminds me. I better check in with Master Trent.”

The girl
rolled her eyes and set down frosty mugs of beer. She smiled at Carrie. “Hi,
I’m Dawn. Did you want something other than beer?”

“Diet coke?”

“Sure.”

Sam snapped
his fingers and appeared to communicate with her in sign language. With a heavy
sigh and shake of her head, Dawn returned to the bar.

Sam yelled
over the noise into his phone. “Master Trent. I still haven’t found her.”

Just then, a
cheer rang out for the basketball game on the giant flat screen on the
sidewall.

Sam grimaced
and held the phone out. Carrie could hear Trent’s angry voice screaming, “…out
there God knows where and you’re in a fucking bar! What is wrong with you? Did
you even search the bathrooms?”

Sam returned
the phone to his ear. “I paid a woman a hundred dollars to verify Carrie wasn’t
in the bathroom.”

Appreciating
Sam hadn’t turned her over to her former boss, who clearly remained crazy mad,
she tried to help him out with his lie by holding up two fingers.

“Two hundred
dollars, actually. She refused to do it for one.”

Carrie shook
her head and mouthed ‘two bathrooms.’

“And then I
went to the other bathroom and did the same. Yeah, and I expect to be
reimbursed.”

Carrie rubbed
one forefinger over the other in the universal sign for ‘shame on you.’ At
least she hoped everyone understood what it meant. During her world travels,
she discovered gestures could have significantly different meanings in other
places. The ‘okay’ sign equated to flying the bird in Italy and the ‘flying the
bird’ gesture was simply a way the English pointed to an object.

When Dawn
returned with two diet cokes for Carrie, Sam frowned. “Gotta go.” He hung up on
the yelling madman and lifted both drinks from the tray. Upon tasting them, he
passed one to Carrie and placed one back on the tray. He arched a brow at the
waitress, similar to the way Trent would.

Her heart
ached. She’d probably never see Trent’s arching eyebrow again.

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