Worst Week Ever (A Long Road to Love) (31 page)

“What’s it
gonna be, bitch? Good boss or bad?” He gripped her hand, evidently determined
to take her with him. As he stood, Carrie pulled in her legs then kicked out,
smashing both feet into his crotch.

The guy
collapsed on the sidewalk with a grunt of pain, his grip on her wrist loosening
enough for her to escape. She sped down the sidewalk, dodging people, certain Bad
Boss would snatch her up any moment and carry her off into a living hell, which
would make her current misery look like a good day in comparison.

She’d reached
the lobby of Trent’s penthouse when someone snared her arm. Terror filled her
and she screamed for help.

“Get out of my
lobby or I’m calling the cops,” the guy barked.

She stared at
the angry guy wearing a thick blue shirt, a cheap badge, and the words SECURITY
written over the pocket. She breathed in. Not the Bad Boss pimp, just an irate,
underpaid guard.

God, if he
didn’t look so pissed off, she might’ve hugged him. Finding her voice, she
explained, “I work for Trent Lancaster. Call him. He’ll vouch for me.”

The guy
snorted and rolled his eyes. “Step outside and I’ll check.”

Worse idea
ever! “No way! A pimp just tried to carry me off to his harem.”

His face
blossomed a bright red. “You have to leave my lobby right now.”

If Bad Boss
walked by and spotted her, this idiot would probably help him take her from the
lobby. Desperate, Carrie ducked beneath the security desk, safe from pimp eyes.

“Get out from
there! If you don’t leave right now, I’m calling the police,” the guard warned.

“Allow me to
call them for you.” Carrie pulled out her phone and dialed her favorite cop. “Detective
Pascal.”

The guard
attempted to grab her arm. She squealed and moved deeper beneath the counter.

“Carrie,
what’s wrong?” Pascal demanded.

“Some scary
guy just tried to make me one of his girls. I kicked him in the balls and ran
to the lobby of Trent’s penthouse, only the security guard wants to toss me
back outside.”

“I've someone
on the way. Put the guard on the phone.”

She handed her
phone to the man glaring down at her. “Detective Pascal would like to speak to
you.”

He took her
phone and snapped it close. “Enough of your bullshit. Get out from under my
desk, or I’ll pick you up and throw you out.”

Seeing nothing
sturdy to cling to, Carrie wrapped her arms around the thick tangle of colorful
wiring beneath his desk.

Acting on him
promise, the guard grabbed her legs and pulled hard. For a moment, she feared
the wires she clutched didn’t attach to anything because the guard dragged her
several feet before meeting resistance.

“Stop it. You’re
going to rip out the whole security system.”

“Not if you
just leave me here while you verify I work for Trent Lancaster.”

He slammed his
palm down on the desk and glared at her. “I know his entire staff. All of which
use the servant’s entrance.”

She really
didn’t like this guy. “I’m a
work
employee. I’m his EA.”

With a shake
of his head, he sneered. “Nice try. He doesn’t have an EA. I just heard him and
a woman talking about getting him one.”

His words sapped
all the strength from her arms. She didn’t even resist as he dragged her across
the lobby floor.

Then he
stopped.

“Thank God.
Officer, I'd like to press charges against this vagrant.”

Carrie didn’t
ever bother looking at the policeman. Trent had fired her
again?
“While
you’re at it, charge me for inciting a riot and feeding unsuspecting people improved
Europa.” She had no shot of paying her bills now. At least in jail the state
had to feed and clothe her.

“Just get her
out of my lobby!” the guard insisted.

Strong arms
gently lifted her up and helped her from the lobby. The police car waited
outside and her bad boss nightmare stood behind it, laughing at her arrest.
“Should’ve gone with me, bitch.”

“Yo! One more
word, and I’ll take you in as well,” a familiar voice warned. Carrie finally
took an interest in the person arresting her. “Officer Jenson?”

Jenson
remained too intent on staring down Bad Boss to hear her. She stuffed Carrie
into the backseat without ever taking her eyes off the guy. After closing the
door, she headed around the car after him. Like a true coward, he ran off,
disappearing into the crowd. She returned and opened the back door. “Sorry
about putting you in the back. Habit. You can sit in the front with me.”

Seated in the
front, Carrie felt a great deal better, but still, this had to rank as her
worst day yet.

Officer Jenson
slid into the driver’s side, turned off the blue flashing lights, and pulled
into traffic. “Was the guy I chased off the one who approached you?”

“Yeah.”

“Glad I got
here in time. His girls end up in the morgue on a weekly basis. How’d you get
away?”

Normally, such
a close scrape with death would’ve sent her heart into a panic, but being fired
by Trent had consumed all her normal emotions. “Oh, you know, the tried and
true: kick ‘em in the balls and run like the wind.”

“Good for
you.”

They drove
over the bridge and out of the city.

“Where are we
going?” Carrie asked.

“To my
apartment. You can stay there until Joey retrieves your stuff and drives you
home. He won’t have the chance until sometime later this afternoon.”

A spark of
life bloomed within her.
Home. Finally, I can go home
.

Shame it
wouldn’t belong to her for more than another month.

****

Carrie entered
Jensen’s twelve-by-twelve-foot living room. On one side, a massive recliner
squatted. A small digital TV hung on the wall it faced. A single barstool sat
before the laminated counter, separating the kitchenette from the living room.
In the corner, where others might put a small breakfast table, sat an
assortment of hand weights and a mountain bike hanging on two bars jutting from
the wall. Heavy green curtains blocked all light from the windows.

“Food and
drinks in the fridge. Help yourself,” Jenson said. “You going to be okay?”

Carrie nodded.

With a final
worried glance, Jenson left.

Exhausted,
Carrie climbed onto the giant recliner. More than anything, she wanted to
sleep, then wake up to discover this whole week had been nothing more than an
out of control nightmare.

Since Mars continued
to fight insurgents at the hospital, the remainder of his servants used the
excuse of police tape not to come to work.

Even Carrie! One
second she followed like a street urchin planning to pick their pockets and the
next she disappeared.

When the bell
rang, he expected it was his missing EA. He stormed to the door and opened it.
“It’s about time!”

A policeman
glared at him.

“If this is
about the tape, someone else ripped it off before I entered.”

“Doesn’t
matter. It’s still illegal to enter.” The cop pushed his way in.

Trent had no
choice but to step back or be knocked over, but verbally, he held his ground. “You
can’t barge into my house without my permission. I’m calling my lawyer.”

The guy took
in the room, eyed Coco and then glared at Trent. “This is a crime scene. You
and your girlfriend need to leave now.”

“She’s my HR
manager and we’re working, or we might be if Carrie would show up.” His eyes
narrowed. “You haven’t arrested my EA again have you?”

“If I wanted
to arrest anyone, it'd be you for compromising a crime scene. But leave now and
I’ll let the matter slide.”

Trent had no
intention of leaving or letting the matter slide. Words flew like bullets: Trent
threatening to get the man fired, the cop countering with a threat to arrest
them both.

“Trent, stop
being an ass. Let’s go!” Coco ordered and pulled him from the penthouse.

By the time
they reached the bottom floor, Coco had made a call and located them temporary
office space on Madison Avenue.

As they passed
the guard, Trent stopped. “When my EA shows up—short thing, brown hair, which
is oily at the moment, dressed in dirty sweats—tell her to go to 2012 Madison
Avenue.”

Coco rolled
her eyes. “Trent, the girl won’t get past the front guard. She looks like a
vagrant off the street.”

He made a
mental note to make sure that didn’t happen, then refocused on the guard. Sweat
beads had blossomed on the fellow’s forehead and his skin turned a sickish
green shade. Trent stepped back in case he was getting ready to spew his
breakfast.

“You didn’t
write it down,” Trent chided and thumped the man’s yellow pad. “Write it down.
Only Carrie can remember things without pen and paper. Everybody else just
screws it up.”

Trent’s focus
shifted to the phone a few inches away from the pad. It looked like his.

“Your name
isn’t by chance Digbot is it?”

“No, sir.”

Not believing
him, Trent pulled out his new phone and dialed his number. He got nothing. Next,
he tried Carrie’s number, and the phone on the table vibrated. “Ha! It’s
Carrie’s.”

Guilt radiated
off the guard as sweat rolled down the side of his face.

Trent stepped
forward and asked in a near growl, “What did you do with my EA?”

The fellow's lips
trembled when he opened his mouth to respond. “I…she…I…”

Coco interrupted
his inarticulate explanation by laughing. “Let me guess. You thought her a
homeless person and threw her out.”

The guard
gulped. “I tried, but she wrapped herself in the wires under the desk. I
worried she’d rip out the security system. When she claimed to be your EA, I
called her a liar, since I’d just heard you and the lady say you intended to
hire an EA.”

Trent’s heart
stopped. “What’d she do?”

“She went
limp. I intended to drag her out onto the street, but a policeman arrived and
arrested her instead.”

“Good,” Coco
muttered.

Trent glared
at her, then back at the guard. “You’re fired! Get out!”

The guard’s
brow furrowed as he grew in height and posture. “Sir, you can’t fire me. I work
for Trius Properties.”

“Oh, I’ll fire
you even if I have to buy the company you work for to do it.” He shoved the
guard, sending him back several feet. “You idiot! Do you have any idea the
damage you’ve done? Carrie is the heart and soul of my company.”

The guard
stepped further back, placing the desk between them. “I’m sorry, sir. She
looked like a bag lady…child.”

“Trent, stop
badgering the young man. He did his job. If Carrie doesn’t want people to
mistake her for homeless riffraff, then she should take more effort with her
grooming.”

He followed Coco
outside and hailed a taxi. When it pulled up, he recognized the driver as the
one from this morning. “I don’t like this cabbie. You have to threaten him with
arrest to make him do his job.”

The driver
turned around and stared out the open back door. Upon seeing Trent, he gunned
the engine and pulled away. Coco barely had time to release the door handle
before the car took off.

Trent pulled
out his phone and called Sam. The call went directly to voicemail.

Why was
everyone running out on him?

“Sam, come to
work now. Everything has fallen apart and I need you.”

His thoughts
went to Carrie, arrested again, possibly thinking he’d fired her. A sense of
doom overwhelmed him and he pleaded to his driver, “Carrie’s been arrested. I
need you, Sam. Come back to work.”

“God, Trent,
he’s your employee. You don’t beg them to come to work. No wonder your staff
riots. You provide no discipline or structure. Employees are like children.
They require rules and expectations.”

Carrie’s phone
rang, so he answered it. “Who’s calling?”

“Sam,” a
grumpy voice replied. “Why are you still using her phone? She should’ve gotten
you a new one by now.”

“She did, only
she got herself arrested before she could put her phone numbers into my phone.
Do you know how to make the numbers go in my phone?”

“No, she’s the
only person in the whole world who knows how to port numbers…other than the
people at the stores.”

“So if I go to
Macy’s, the sales clerk will know how to fix my phone?”

Sam snorted.
“Hold on, I’m in the city now. Are you at the penthouse or office?”

“Penthouse. The
office is a shambles.”

“Really? How
strange. You would expect people throwing file cabinets out the window to leave
your offices neat and tidy.”

“I’m having a
really bad day,” he warned his driver.

“Sounds like
Carrie’s having a worse one. What’d she get arrested for now?”

“Trying to
enter my penthouse.”

“It’s a crime
scene. Police get bitchy about ignoring their do-not-enter tape.”

“Actually, I
had Coco cut the tape. Carrie got nabbed in the lobby for her unfortunate
choice of wardrobe. Which is your fault, since you refused to get clean clothes
for her.”

“Have you
gotten her out?”

“No, I just
found out about it.”

Coco waved her
hand in front of Trent’s face. “Will you just flag a taxi? My hair doesn’t like
the wind.”

“My driver is
almost here,” he snapped then returned to his conversation. “What were we
talking about?”

Sam sighed
with a distinct sound of disgust. “Nothing important. Be there in three.”

Trent closed
the phone then thought of a way to save Carrie and opened it back up. He
searched for his lawyer’s name in her phone but couldn’t find it. If he hadn’t
been such a jackass this morning when she asked for the man’s name, she would
have David’s number listed and he could call and set him to finding and
rescuing his EA. Again.

Damn the
big-eared guard for telling Carrie they intended to hire a new EA. When Coco first
suggested firing Carrie, Trent assured her he’d fire her first. Then she
suggested he promote Carrie to Change Specialist, and she’d hire an EA whom she
could work with. Trent thought that an excellent idea. Coco could chose a male
EA so Carrie would have no reason to be jealous and he’d send Carrie to the
West coast so she could enjoy her training and remain far away from the she
devil’s talons. Then at least Carrie could have an enjoyable month.

His thoughts
went to his beloved EA. She had to feel betrayed, especially given all the
barbs Coco threw her way this morning. Poor kid had been off her game in those
ghastly clothes.

He hadn’t
blamed her when she lagged behind. He wanted to strangle Coco too. The bitch
thought herself so superior to little Carrie, but on a good day, with Carrie
dressed in a Macy’s suit, his EA could outclass Coco in her sleep. He just
wished he’d told Carrie as much. Unfortunately, the sight of his ex-fiancée caused
him to regress into the jerk he used to be.

The Predator-in-Prada-shoes
remained the same manipulative bitch he’d almost married. He hoped her skills
would help remove his current slacker employees and obtain new ones who wanted
to work. Once he had better people, he could fire Coco and recall Carrie from
training.

Honestly, he
didn’t know how he’d survive another month without her, but he had to. She was
too loving and kind to go up against the Prada Viper. He would have to man up
and suffer through this. He had no option. He had to protect the woman he loved.

When Sam
arrived with the limo, he followed Coco into the back seat. She triggered the
privacy screen and then spoke before it had yet to rise all the way up. “We
should think about getting you a decent driver, as well.”

“Ha! I've a
better driver than the President does. I’m not giving him up.”

While Sam
might be aggravating as hell, he refused to fire him. He’d promised his father
to keep him on, and his word meant something.

Coco gripped
his arm. “Trent! Are you even listening to me?”

“Have we moved
to a new topic?”

Her eyes
rounded. “No.”

“Well, try
that, and see if it helps.”

A frightening
intensity gathered in her expressive and very angry eyes. “Excuse me?”

“Carrie’s
discovered if I don’t like a topic, I stop listening, but she can regain my
attention if she’s changes to another topic.” The mention of his beloved EA
reminded him she resided in a jail, no doubt underdressed for even its
occupants. If only Coco hadn’t spent the morning sharpening her claws on his
EA, she wouldn’t have lagged behind and got herself arrested. He forced a smile
to his lips and glanced at the angry she-cat. “Carrie probably has a ton of
these helpful hints if you would curl in your claws and work with her.”

Coco’s mouth
opened, but blessedly, no words came forth…for thirty seconds. Then she
recovered.

“God! I now
remember why I broke up with you.”

Trent smiled
at the happy memory. He’d been at his very worst for months before she broke it
off. As time neared their planned wedding date, he’d feared she might tolerate
him past the day of no survival.

“If you want
to quit, I’ll understand.”

“No. Dan’s
right. I am the only person who could endure you.”

“Carrie’s
managed for two years,” he muttered.

“And your
inexplicable attachment to the girl probably accounts for half your staff
problems! She lacks the skills of a proper EA. God! Did you even check her
qualifications before hiring her?”

“Didn’t need
to. She’d never think of lying on her resume.”

“Oh God,
Trent. Wake up! I seriously doubt the girl even attended college. She’s
probably an underage teen.”

He pushed the
privacy button to lower the window. “Sam, how old is Carrie?”

“Twenty-four.”

“And you know
this how?”

“You told me?”

“Bullshit! How
do you really know?”

“I may have
glanced at her passport.”

Coco snorted.
“Those are faked more often than not.”

Sam stared at
her through the rearview mirror. “You must run with an interesting group of
people, because the average American wouldn’t have a clue how to get a fake passport.”

Coco glared at
Trent and whispered in what sounded like a cat hiss, “Are you going to let him
talk to me like that?”

“Don’t engage
him if you don’t want him to talk back,” Trent replied.

“Am I really
needed for this conversation, sir?” Sam asked.

“No. Sorry I
bothered you.”

Sam initiated
the privacy window from his dashboard.

“For God’s
sake, Trent! You let your servants run all over you! Structure! Employees are
like children and dogs. They need structure.”

“I think my
father may have had the same philosophy.”

She huffed.
“I’m sure he did.”

“He would snap
his fingers at me and bark ‘sit.’”

Coco glared at
him.

“Come to think
of it, the first words I learned were ‘no,’ ‘leave it,’ ‘sit,’ and ‘quiet.’”

“Please! You
are not the only person with parental issues. Everyone has them. My father
bought me a BMW sedan for my sixteenth birthday party.”

Trent failed
to see the abuse.

“A sedan!” She
threw her hands up in outrage. “I specifically asked for a convertible.”

“Maybe he
thought a convertible couldn’t keep you alive. If I recall, you had several car
accidents before you turned sixteen.”

Her eyes
narrowed, evidently, not liking his excellent memory. “None of which I caused.
I have police reports to prove it.”

He restrained
from asking how much those had cost her father.

Finally, Sam
pulled to the curb, and opened the door. “We have arrived, Master Trent.”

“Too little,
too late,” Coco muttered as she left the car and hurried into the building.

Trent got out
and fussed with his suit until the Viper disappeared inside. The moment the
door closed behind her, he ceased removing invisible lint and faced Sam. “Will
you try to find out where they’ve taken Carrie?”

“Already
done.”

“Good job.
Where is she?”

“She’ll soon
be on her way to New Jersey.”

“No! I need
her here!” He needed to apologize for the horrible way Coco treated her this
morning and tell her his plans on how they could obtain good employees while
keeping her safely away from the Devil of HR.