Page 32 of Pure Abandon

“What are you talking about? Who am I disregarding?” Of course that got his attention.

He’s staring at me with a look of confusion and concern. Oh, what a hole I’ve just dug for myself.

“Kathryn.” His voice is stern and determined. Leaning forward, Asher puts his hand on my arm, halting my movements. I look up into his perfectly sculpted face as he arches his eyebrows. “Tell me.”

Oh, what’s the use? I already dug my own grave. I might as well lie in it.

“Why did you deny Trish a raise?”

His hand still on my arm, Asher looks at me quizzically, as if he just can’t seem to understand what I’m saying. At this moment, I realize how close he’s standing to me. I can feel his breath on my skin and the heat radiating from his arm on mine.

Asher’s mouth opens to say something when a buzzing noise sounds from the speaker on the elevator panel.

“This is Asher Security. We registered that the stop button has been activated in your car. Is everything okay?”

Asher releases my gaze but keeps his hand on my arm.

“This is Alexander Asher. Yes, everything is okay. There seems to be a computer glitch with the cab. Please override the system and return us to the lobby. I’d like this car retired for the rest of the day, and have someone take a look at the control panel.”

“Yes, Mr. Asher. We’ll have you moving momentarily.” The speaker is silent once again.

Thank God this enigmatic man is so quick on his feet. Bad enough I’ll have to endure the embarrassment and office gossip that will follow being stuck in an elevator with the big boss… a week after a recent outburst, no less. At least I have a valid story to go with why we’re stuck in here. No one has to know I pulled the trigger.

Asher’s eyes look back at me. He’s still holding on to me when the elevator starts to move again. When he finally releases me, I take a moment to check my appearance. From the reflection in the door, I catch Asher staring at me, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. He looks out of sorts. I want to thank him for what he said to security, and I also want to find out why he denied Trish her due.

But I don’t say a word.

I don’t know what I expected when we arrive at the lobby. Hoards of people waiting for the elevator, police, fireman, the media! Instead, and thankfully, the elevator doors open to a seemingly empty space. What did I expect? There are five other elevators.

Chin up and hands at my side, I make my way out of the building and down the block before I even remember where it is I was going in the first place.

I slam my keys on the side entry table as soon I walk through the door. It seems I slammed the door a little too hard too.

“Are you okay, Ms. Kathryn?” Carmen comes running to the entryway, Jackson in arm.

I reach over to grab the angelic little bundle. “Yes, sorry.”

Carmen grabs my purse from my shoulder and sets it, delicately, on the table next to my keys. Grabbing my hand, she says, “Come Ms. Kathryn. You work too hard. You try to be good wife, good mother, and good worker.” Ushering me into the kitchen, Carmen pulls out a chair. “You rest your feet. Carmen will take care.”

I do as Carmen suggests and seat myself, propping Jackson on the table. He babbles and laughs at my funny faces as piles of drool fall onto his bib.

“You like sardines, Ms. Kathryn?” Carmen calls from inside the refrigerator door as she produces a large bowl. “I make chicharron with pepesca.”

She leans down to show me the bowl in her hands. The little fish with their heads still attached look up at me.

“Uh, no thank you, Carmen. I’m full.” I smile up at her as she retrieves the bowl. Besides, I was thinking Gabriel might want Chinese tonight. I lean over and give Jackson a raspberry on the side of his neck.

“Mr. Gabriel called. He has a dinner tonight in the city. He tells me to prepare something for you.” She places the bowl back in the refrigerator and turns around.

Did he tell me he had a dinner tonight? He may have, but after yesterday’s argument, I was so mad he could have told me they found aliens in our backyard and I wouldn’t have listened to him. Then again, I went right to bed last night, so he probably didn’t tell me out of spite.

I put Jackson down and walk toward the entryway. Picking up my purse off the table, I search for my phone. Flipping it open, I look to see if I have any missed calls. None. The last call I received was earlier from Harvey telling me he’d be a few minutes late for our meeting.

“Carmen,” I call, “what time did Gabriel call?”

Carmen replies from the kitchen, “Around two o’clock.”

I was in the office at that time. He should have called my desk. He has my number. I place my bag back on the table and make my way toward the kitchen.