My mother didn’t work, she suffered from paralyzing anxiety, depression and a pain pill addiction. Her small disability cheque barely covered food and basics around the house. So I was single-handedly putting my sister through school and supporting her. Katie was smart, and I was not going to let our father ruin her life. I wanted more than anything to give her a fair shot. She had such potential. She wanted to be a surgeon, and had the marks for it too. Med school was expensive though. But I was determined to see her do it. I had already started putting some money aside for it, not a lot though. But whenever I had a few spare cents, I quickly deposited them into my savings account for her.
Katie: End of the week. I’m so sorry. I feel so bad that you have to send me money again.
Sera: DON’T. We’ve spoken about this. You’re my little sis. I’ll pick up some extra shifts at the restaurant. It’s going to be okay. Love you.
Katie: XXX. You’re the best.
If I’d been harboring any doubts—however small—about whether I could go on a date with Ben, this had just reinforced the fact that I had absolutely no space for anything like that in my life. My sister was my top priority, and, therefore, so was my job. My last boyfriend hadn’t understood that or been able to cope with my family’s constant drama. Driving out in the middle of the night to console my sobbing, suicidal mother and pick her up off the floor when she’d “finally” kicked him out—again. The constant drama and embarrassment that came with having a father who was in and out of jail all the time for petty theft and fraud. Drunken scenes when he came out of prison, breaking and entering when he wanted money, begging and pleading when he needed a place to sleep . . . it was endless.
My ex had accused me of putting everyone else first, including my job—well, of course I did! I had to.
JJ and Bruce were probably the only two people in the world that knew how bad things really were. They knew the full, nasty unedited truth about my life and I wanted to keep it that way. If it hadn’t been for their help, my mom and sister would probably still be living in that trailer, borrowing cups of sugar from the Meth cooks next door. But thanks to my rent-free living arrangement, and the flexibility of taking on shifts at their restaurant whenever I wanted, I’d managed to move my mom and sister into a small garden cottage. But the landlords were getting pissed off. Thanks to my father’s constant, loud crap, they’d been threatening to kick them out. He wasn’t actually living there at the moment, but between his late night arrivals, the drunken screaming he did when he was there and this latest breaking and entering, things weren’t looking too good.When it rains, it pours.
I arrived at work after a thought-filled car ride and was shocked to find Ben already in the office. Usually, no one arrived before me, and I liked it that way. It gave me a chance to get on top of things before the usual chaos of the day descended in all its hellish glory. I also wouldn’t have minded a moment to pull myself together before I had to engage with people. The SMS from my sister had thrown me.
He noticed me the second I walked in and smiled. I reciprocated with something that could barely be called a smile and sat at my desk. I lowered my head, opened my laptop, grabbed some files, and slapped them down loudly. I was hoping to convey a sense of very importantdo-not-dare-disturbbusyness. Obviously it didn’t work. Within seconds he was sitting at the desk next to me—and smiling. DANGER!
“How was your jog this morning?”
“My what—” I almost forgot my lie. “Oh. My jog. Yeah! Great. Great. Mmmmm, really great. Twenty miles clears the mind, you know”What the hell am I saying? Do joggers really do twenty miles?
“Twenty miles. Impressive. You must be a serious pro.”
“Mmmmm.” I nodded and picked up another do-not-dare-disturb prop which I used to staple some random papers together before slapping them down on my desk.
He sat and watched me as I opened my emails and answered a few, while I filed a few papers away—along with some more unnecessary stapling—and busied myself with my morning ritual, all the while trying to work out mathematically how much money I would need to make at the restaurant to buy my sister those books. But his stare was making me very uncomfortable and I wanted to turn and scream, “What?!” But he was the boss.
“Is something wrong?” he finally asked.
“What? . . . No . . . Nothing. I’m fine. Just tired.”
“Is it an issue with your dads?” he asked.
“They’re not really, officially, my dads, and nothing is wrong. I’m fine.”
I looked up at him, feeling annoyed that he was trying to pull a Freud on me. Actually, I was irritated that he’d even picked up on it. Clearly he was perceptive—most men weren’t. He leaned over the desk and looked at me, a mixture of sex and charm and concern all rolled into a very expensive-looking dark grey vintage suit. I didn’t like this. Especially when he reached out and tried to take my hand in a commiserative fashion, as if he knew me and understood what I was going through. And then, that look again—as if he did know me.I pulled away quickly and cleared my throat.
I didn’t want to do anything that would raise alarm bells and have him questioning me all day, and I certainly didn’t want him to think I was the kind of employee that let her personal life interfere with work.
“It’s something personal,” I explained. “Nothing I can’t deal with and nothing that will distract me from my job, I assure you.”
He eyed me curiously. “That’s not why I was asking you, Sera.” Our eyes met, and once again something strange and intense and physically palpable passed between us. Thankfully, Becks arrived at that exact moment.
She and I usually had a chatty cup of coffee before starting work, but all her usual happy chattiness was gone the second she saw Ben. She transformed into a swoony someone I didn’t recognize.
“Good morning, Ben,” she said in a breathy whisper accompanied by a playful hair flick. She looked at him, perhaps a little too long before finally turning to me, “Sera.” I tried not to roll my eyes. Just another woman that had fallen victim to Ben’s Voodoo charms.
“Morning, Rebecca.”
“Becks,” she corrected with a coy, girly smile that made me want to slap her into adulthood. I looked up at Ben and studied his interaction with her. He gave her a smile. Deadly. Iceberg melting.What a flirtatious shit.
“Good morning, Becks.” His voice sounded super-friendly and enthused. Too enthused—what a bastard.I was right about him. He was like this withallthe girls. He was just your average, run-of-the-mill man-whore.
I couldn’t help it, but I actually felt a bolt of ugly jealously rush through me. Becks sat down and I took the opportunity to look across at Ben again. He was staring at me and then flashed me a smile—a secondhand smile?I glared at him in utter disapproval before looking away and unnecessarily flicking a pen to the other side of my desk—not the most mature move, I’ll admit.
He looked at me as if he was slightly confused and then got up and walked away.
I looked after him feeling . . .
