When you are trapped in an elevator with someone who terrifies you, your imagination starts to take over. You suddenly become convinced that death is the ultimate conclusion.
My boss isn't going to kill me, and hide me in a pile of red fabric that matches the color of my blood... right?
The stifling silence in the elevator wasn't helping the matter. Allie stayed quiet as we rode down, the dim lighting hiding her features, adding an eerie feel that sent my mind running down imagination road with a hatchet that ripped at the fabric of my sanityâ convinced that getting fired was perhaps better than whatever Allie had in store for me.
The silence stretched, long and painful. Allie wasn't known for small talk, so I wasn't surprised. But her ability to make even silence feel like a reprimand was impressive.
Can that be taught? Can intimidation be something you learn? Or are you just born with it?
When we stopped on the second floor, my mind went blank. Was she planning to make me run a few errands before she threw me out for dressing so poorly?
Allie's arrival changed the entire demeanor on the floor. People went silent, seeming to jump awake and bolt to their stations, working faster, like the very presence of their CEO yanked the entire place into fast forward.
She walked through several rows of people organizing racks of clothing, a section where others held up sketches and compared them to mannequins with identical outfits, another filled with swatches set up across tables, covered by spools of thread, with seamstresses assessing instructions in their hands, moving the materials around like the heads of armies assessing battle plans across maps.
Walking into one of the identical hair and makeup rooms, Allie waved her hand. "Leave." The makeup artists and models left without a word, plucking up their equipment and moving into another room. They closed the door behind them, leaving me alone with Allie.
And this is how I die. She's totally going to drown me with a bunch of makeup concealer.
Allie motioned to one of the chairs. "Sit." There was no room for argument with that tone.
Sitting, I put her coffee down, my fingers playing with the cushy upholstery, toes pushing the swivel chair back and forth in a nervous tick. Allie turned my chair, and I was suddenly facing the mirror, forced to take in my red rimmed eyes, my sweaty face, and wet hair half out of the braid that I had hastily tugged it into.
The sight was nearly enough to make me cry. I looked broken, vulnerable. The pain clear on my face. "I get it," I said yanking my eyes away. "Just fire me, okay? Don't make me look at myself."
You are boring Lily Autumns...
It was hard to deny when I took in the sight in the mirror.
No wonder Liam dumped me.
Allie wanted to make me stare her reason for firing me in the face. To take in my mistakes.
I had heard stories of Allie being mean, read the gossip articles of her cruelty, but I had never expected this.
Allie remained silent, ignoring my plea. There was a sudden tug on my hair, and I looked up into the mirror, my jaw dropping as I watched Allie, her fingers untangling my braid, her eyes focused.
"What happened?" she asked quietly.
I blinked, confused by the sudden tears that brimmed. What is she doing? And why does it make me want to cry?
I was so stunned when she picked up a brush and began to gently brush my hair that I didn't say a word. She glanced up, took in my expression, and gestured to her coffee that she had made me carry around.
"Drink that."
I blinked. "What?"
"It's for you."
My throat tightened. "Really?"
Her lips twitched slightly as she went back to work on my hair. "Surprised?"
"Obviously. Bosses don't get coffee for their assistants."
The CEO is doing my hair. And gifting me coffee. Is this how she fires everyone?!? What kind of mind game is this?!?
"They do when their employee has been dumped. And that's not coffee. This isn't a coffee situation." Allie paused in her brushing, raising a brow at me. "Did you really think I'd make you carry my coffee around like some floating table? I have hands, and that task is a waste of your time."
I took a hesitant sip, embarrassed that a part of me believed she had done something nefarious to the cup. She wouldn't need to poison me in order to punish me.
The drink was peppermint hot chocolate. I stared up at her in the mirror, wide-eyed. "How did youâ"
She eyed her task, pausing briefly to tug gently through a tangle. "I read your HR file when I started here. They asked a bunch of stupid questions when they hired you, one being your favorite comfort beverageâ Who takes the time to record such ridiculous questions? âBut in this case, that time spent reading wasn't a total waste."
Plucking up a round brush and the hair dryer, Allie turned it on, silencing my questions. She proceeded to style my hair until my frizzy brown curls had transformed, turning into long, glossy, wavy locks that fell down my back and shoulders, looking beautiful.
Then she spun the hairdryer like it was a revolver belonging to a cowgirl and put it down, admiring her work in the mirror. "You have beautiful hair."
Allie looked me dead in the eyes, her expression growing determined. "Don't let someone else define you. The world will eat you alive if you let it. You get to define who you are. Not some moron who was too stupid to know what he had."
My mind spun. Allie Winters, known for her cruel and cold demeanor was giving me a pep talk. It made me question everything I had ever known about her. The woman standing behind me was not the same one who had beaten up her ex-boyfriend in front of a ramen shop.
Allie walked towards the door, her heels clicking loudly. "Take the rest of the day off. Come in fresh tomorrow."
"Wait!" I shouted after her, my fingers touching my hair in disbelief.
She stopped, glancing back at me, waiting.
My face burned at my next question. "What will you tell Lauâ Mr. Royal?"
I didn't want to leave him without his assistant. Especially if Allie was going to tell him why I was gone.
A mischievous smile took up her face, one that made my stomach churn with unease. "Leave him to me."
"Won't he be mad if I leave?"
She threw open the door with dramatic flair, causing several people to scatter out of her way. "He'll blame me. But what else is new."
Then Allie was gone, leaving me sitting in the makeup chair, staring at my reflection, feeling utterly beautiful and confused all at the same time.
...
Bex found me sitting on the now clean living room couch, munching thoughtfully on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
"Didn't you leave for work like four hours ago, or did I dream that you ran around here screaming at the top of your lungs about being late?" She asked as she stretched her arms above her head, flannel shirt brushing the tops of her black sweatpantsâ her working from home attire.
I nodded, distracted.
Bex, now fully coherent and awake at two o'clock in the afternoon, sat down slowly on our worn-down living room plush chair, eyeing me warily. "Did you... get fired?"
I shook my head before gently touching my hair, making sure that I hadn't imagined my boss doing my hair.
What a weird twenty-four hours.
"Then why are you eating your sad snack..." Her eyes went wide. "Did Liam break up with you!?!"
Pausing mid-bite, I shrugged, trying not to showcase a single emotion on my face. I hated that everyone who looked at me seemed to know I had gone through a breakup. And it was even worse that Bex immediately assumed that Liam was the one to break up with me.
I could have been the one to break up with him... I thought, munching angrily on my sandwich. I would have done a much better job of it too. No drive-thru. No ten-second sneak attack break up before dumping him on the curb...
"LILY! WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME!" Bex shouted. Jumping to her feet, she ran to her room. "I'm going to hack into his social media and destroy him!"
She was back in the chair, laptop open, fingers clacking angrily across the keys with manic glee before I could get a word out past all the peanut butter in my mouth. I waved my hands, swallowing, trying to talk past the mush. "Waip. Don'p do ip!"
Bex glared down at the computer. "I am going to pretend not to speak your panicked peanut butter language and keep going until you can speak clearly. HE WILL PAY!"
Bex had been spending time with a few hotheads recently. An ex-detective, a podcaster, a florist, and an actress who all had a flair for the dramatic. I blamed their influence on her sudden hunger to use her powers for evil.
Dashing to the kitchen I chugged down a glass of water. "BEX! STOP!"
Sighing, Bex muttered to herself, swearing revenge before finally lifting her hands away from her laptop keyboard in defeat. "Fine. But unless you have a good reason for not taking him down, I'll just do this later."
I tried to shove the memories back, but words still sprang to the surface, sharp and cutting, creating a collage of painful digs.
You are boring... I just want more...
I sucked in a breath, shoving the memories back down before I could burst into tears. "I don't want to talk about it."
Plucking up a fuzzy blanket, I crawled underneath it and settled on the couch, turning on An Affair to Remember. "And you won't destroy him online."
Bex let out an irritated sigh. "He's a moron. No, worse than a moron. He's a dumpster fire of poop."
She paused, waiting to see if her terrible insult would make me smile. Bex was famous for her inability to think up good insults. But I continued to stare at the screen, drinking in the leading man as he leaned across the railing of a ship, soaking in the leading lady next to him, like she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
I closed my eyes, sighing as the memories resurfaced again. YOU ARE BORING LILY AUTUMNS.
Forcing my eyes open, I glanced over at Bex, who was pretending to write, her fingers typing out the same sentence again and again. "Do your thing. I won't interrogate you," Bex said.
"You won't interrogate Liam either."
She threw up her hands. "Why not! I have connections with people that can hunt him down and make him pay! Let me use them!"
I shook my head. "No. It'll just make things worse."
Bex closed her laptop and moved to sit next to me on the couch. "You sure you don't want to talk about it?"
Hiding my head under the blanket, I cried quietly, unable to hold back tears. But wasn't surprised when my next set of words were calm and even. I had gotten very good at sounding like I wasn't crying. A skill I wish I didn't have a lot of experience with.
"No thanks."
"You should date that guy at work. What's his name?"
"There is no guy at work."
"Lial Kingly?"
"Laurence Royaâ" I replied before I could stop myself and was rewarded by a knowing smirk from Bex when I eventually peeked my tears-stained face back out of the blanket.
She had watched me answer a phone call from Laurence Royal ONE TIME, and apparently, I was flustered enough to lead her to remember him as an apparent suitor for the future.
PSH. Unrealistic daydreams don't make future boyfriends.
"I'm not dating anyone, Bex. Liam and I broke up YESTERDAY."
She waved her hand like it was an inconsequential detail. "And Liam has been a butt face for forever. So makes no difference in the dating timeline."
Bex pulled my head onto her lap, fingers brushing several strands of hair out of my face. "At least your hair looks nice." She paused, sighing. "It's going to be okay Lil. He'll realize that he missed out and beg you to come back. Just don't go back when he calls, okay?"
I shrugged, not telling her that Liam had called dozens of times. But all his texts had said was that he had left his lucky tie in my apartment and needed it back.
I'm going to burn that stupid tie.
No mention of an apology or even a hello. He cared more about his tie than he did about me. And that alone made me promise myself to never talk to him again. I clung to Allie's words like a shield.
Don't let someone else define you... You get to define who you are. Not some moron who was too stupid to know what he had.
Bex reached for her phone. "How many toppings do you want on your breakup pizza?" I'll even let you add on one of your weird toppings if you want. But I draw the line at egg." She shuddered.
When I didn't reply with my normal argument that breakfast pizza was delicious and she needed to get on board, Bex pulled me close.
"It's okay to cry Lil. You aren't crying over a jerk, you are crying over a changed future. Over the idea of something lost. And that's okay. The tears aren't for him. They are for you."
So I cried. And reluctantly, Bex let me have my bacon, egg and sausage pizza.
...
There was something immensely satisfying about color-coded, organized schedules and to-do lists. It made you feel accomplished before you had even done anything. It made you feel in control of your life because everything had a spot. A place where it belongedâ
"Um... hi," someone said, startling me out of color-coding Allie and Laurence's calendars. I hadn't even heard the elevator open.
Blinking, I found a strawberry-blond woman standing before me, shuffling her feet back and forth. She offered me a shy smile. "I'm Laliana. Here to see Allie."
"I'llâ"
Allie cut in before I could reply, her voice coming through the intercom on my desk, making me jump. "Come on in Laliana."
Laliana offered me another smile before she walked past my desk and into Allie's office, greeted by one of Allie's rare smiles. I watched as Allie ushered Laliana behind a curtain and then up onto a small stand she had set up in the middle of her office.
I couldn't help but smile watching Laliana Summers, Allie Winters' best friend, and soon-to-be-married woman, as she stood up on the stand, beaming in her soon-to-be-finished wedding dress. Her long strawberry blond hair fell down her back, brushing against the white cream material that glistened from thousands of gems Allie had hand-sewn into the fabric.
She swished the dress back and forth, fingers in the pockets that Allie had added into the sides, her smile growing impossibly wider. "YOU GAVE IT POCKETS?!?" Laliana shouted with glee.
Normally Allie didn't do fittings in her office, but Laliana was painfully shy and didn't want a bunch of employees staring at her. She got enough of that as a famous author whose relationship with her bodyguard-turned-fiancé had done nothing to calm her fame in the public eye.
"Ms. Autumns," Laurence Royal said, yanking me out of my thoughts so fast that I nearly fell out of my office chair.
I was still unaccustomed to the intercom that let him talk to me whenever he wanted. It felt like a sexy intrusion, mostly because his voice was so deep and sultry.
What would it sound like when he actually tried to sound sexy?
Allie's intercom voice was a splash of cold water compared to his.
"Yes, Mr. Royal?" I asked, pushing the intercom button before turning and glancing towards his office, hoping my voice was even.
His eyes were on a set of graphs in his hands. "Can you come to my office for a moment?"
It had been two weeks since Allie's gesture of kindness. Liam had continued to call for a week and a half, even showing up at my apartment, greeted by Bex when I wasn't there, and sent on his way with threats of social media cancellation if he continued his behavior.
Her threats had caused him to go radio silent.
Walking into Laurence's office, I stop before his desk, waiting for him to finish reading. When he flipped to the next page, I realized that he had forgotten that he had called me in. I was standing in his office unnoticed. Again.
Yay for me. This isn't a self-esteem killer AT ALL.
"Mr. Royal? You wanted me."
My words instantly made my face burn. You wanted to TALK to me. Talk, Lily. We've practiced this sentence before!
I didn't correct myself. He didn't have a tendency to notice my blunders if I didn't call attention to them.
Laurence looked up for a beat, pushing something across the table. A small package. "This is for you."
The small package was wrapped in silver wrapping paper and a small black bow. I stared down at it, confused. I could tell he had wrapped it himself. The paper was wrinkled from his attempt to fold it straight. For every other gift he had sent out, he had me wrap it. But this one... I could tell it was special if he didn't want anyone else to know what it was.
"Who do you want me to deliver it to?" I asked, pulling out a small notebook where I kept reminders.
He looked back up, a rare smile crossing his face. "It's for you."
My face turned redder. "For me?"
Royal Winters NEVER got me gifts. I was the girl who picked out gifts for him, signed his name to them, wrapped them carefully, and sent them out. I was the girl who bought flowers, wine, chocolates, and jewelry, all for other women. I was the girl who juggled calls from women he had gone out with, adding them to his schedule and reserving restaurants so he could take them out.
So the wrapped gift sitting before me was... strange.
I fought a smile as warmth burned inside of me. He wrapped a gift for me. He picked it out himself. Heâ The smile vanished as panic filled me.
Allie told him. Allie told him that I got dumped, and this is a 'poor you gift.'
I couldn't pick it up. I just stared at it, embarrassed.
"Goodness. I clearly need to work on my gift-giving. I know I'm bad at it," Laurence said, sounding embarrassed. "I know the wrapping is dreadful compared to what you can do. You don't have to keep it. But it's been three years since you started working here, and besides the bonus you are entitled to, I thought you'd like this."
I looked up at him, surprised. "You got me a gift."
"You've made your point. It's long overdue."
He looked down at the small wrapped item, brow furrowed with concern. "Never mind. Forget it." He reached for the gift.
"No!" Panicked, I swatted his hand away and yanked it off his desk, fighting my impulse to hold it close. I forced the smile that spread across my face to stay somewhat normal, hoping I didn't look too excited as I began to back away towards the door before he demanded I give it back. "This is great. Um... thank you."
He watched me, brow raised, clearly frustrated. "You don't have to pretend to like it."
I shook my head wildly. "No. I'm sure I will." Then, to prove a point, I undid the wrapping paper, carefully pulling off the tape, hoping to keep the wrapping paper afterward, and pulled out a small, deep red leather notebook. My initials were carved into the front with gold foil.
"You are always writing things. And I thought you would like something else to write in..." He trailed off. "That's a stupid gift isn't it?"
"It's..." It was beautiful. He was right, I was always writing things down. I liked lists. Pros and cons lists. To-do lists. Dreams lists. Goals lists. Who I wanted on my survival team during an apocalypse list. Lists helped me wrap my head around things. They were soothing.
I love it.
My fingers brushed my initials again.
You are always writing things...
He noticed me writing things... Is that a big deal? It feels like a big deal. Even though assistants write things.
"You hate it," Laurence guessed, watching me stare down at the gift, completely silent. He held out his hand. "I'll get you something else."
I shook my head, backing up toward the door. "No! This is great! I love lists and writing things!" I sounded completely insane. And my defense of his gift sounded lame. But it was true. It was thoughtful and wonderful and I hated that the look on his face was frustration.
Clearly, I hadn't convinced him.
How could he not know how much I like it?
I spun on my heels, eager to get out of his office before he tried to take it again.
"I should never buy gifts for people," Laurence muttered to himself.
"It's great! It'sâ" I had misjudged the location of the door, and smashed face-first into Laurence Royals' glass wall before hitting the ground with a loud thud, leaving an imprint of my face on the glass.
---
Thank you for reading chapter two! I hope you are enjoying the story! Or are at least curious to see where it goes! Add this story to your reading list to know when the next chapter drops!
UPDATE DAYS - A NEW CHAPTER EVERY FRIDAY!
Do you think Liam will keep harassing Lily about returning his tie?
Do you think Lily is okay?
Will Laurence get Lily something else?
Do you think Laliana and Allie saw that interaction between Laurence and Lily?
What do you think will happen next?
CHAPTER QUESTION - Have you ever embarrassed yourself in public? What happened?