"Dude, this car is a done," Ryan said grimly as he looked up from under the hood, "my best advice? Get a new car."
Troy let out a delirious huff as he leaned back on the work bench, "It's not that easy," he mumbled as he lifted his beer to his lips. "Big Red is classic."
"Big Red has another 5 months in her tops."
Troy mouth hung agape, "Ryan, she can hear you," he mocked in appalled horror as he reached out to caress the hood of his Ford Explorer.
"I thought you just got a new job?" Ryan said reaching up and closing the hood of Troy's car.
"I did."
"And?" Ryan said coming around to where Troy was and selecting a beer out of the mini fridge for himself.
"And paying the rent, my student loans and my dad back kind of takes priority over getting a new car at the moment," Troy winced. Life hadn't exactly been kind to him lately that was for sure. After he graduated in the top fifteen percent of his class he was so confident that finding a job out in the real world would be a piece of cake. Turns out, not so much. After lots of temp jobs and a few false starts he finally landed an entry level job with Software Solutions.
Granted he was just an IT guy who was setting up computers all day and monitoring a server it was a start somewhere and he had to take it. Eventually he would get to write code and design. Eventually he'd get to do something with the forty-three thousand dollar education he was paying for.
It had always been his dream to design programs, to create something that people could use. He wanted to make a name for himself. Maybe start up his own company and offer consulting when necessary. He believe he had so much to offer and right now it was being wasted on this entry level position that had him connecting wires for scraps.
But what other options did he have? He had student loans to pay back, bills to consider and rent he could barely afford, in a shitty apartment he hated living in. Last year had been rough, during a patch of unemployment he actually had to ask his dad for money to help him get by. He still felt horrible about it. His parents had been so proud of him, graduating from college, a small town prodigy and here he was asking for money because he couldn't make his rent.
"Well, I hate to say this but your car is not going to last," Ryan said popping the top off his beer. "I can do a quick fix on the hose that's leaking motor oil but," Ryan let out a sigh as he looked back at the car parked in his garage.
"Do the quick fix, I'll figure something out." Troy let out a sigh.
"I'm almost afraid to ask," Ryan mumbled.
"Well, you shouldn't be, I have no idea what I'm figuring out yet." Troy looked down at his beer, "How life as a dad?"
"Just yesterday Michelle dropped her lollipop on Sugar's back. Poor cat's walking around with bald spot."
"Sounds charming."
"Just wait, your times coming."
Troy let out a laugh, "fat chance." He stood up straighter and looked around his friend's garage with a little envy. "Don't get me wrong I'm green with envy, you got the wife, the kid, the man cave … you have what America dresses up in fancy lingerie and sells to single men like myself all the time."
"Is that right?"
Troy looked at his car and shrugged, "Truth of the matter is, I've got too much debt, live in a shit apartment and have a crap job. No woman mildly attractive, who can cook, clean, and might have a decent credit score is going to hitch her wagon to this."
"Nice to see you have standards."
"I try," Troy tapped the top of his car, "How long is it going to take you to fix this beauty up?"
"I can work on it tonight, might be done in an hour maybe two. I think I have the parts I need." Ryan let out sigh as he looked at Troy's car with hesitance. "Have you ever thought of taking her to a real mechanic?"
"Not when my best friend who's a mechanical engineer can quick fix it for free." Troy started making his way out of the garage and back towards the house.
"Damn it Troy, take it to an actual mechanic," Ryan called after him as he looked back at the car parked in his garage. "This is ridiculous."
The next morning Troy took the elevator up to the thirty-fourth floor of his office building and began looking for office 301. The task seemed to be simple enough, he had ram that needed to be installed on a desktop computer. Walking past a few cubicles he made his way idly through a maze of people bustling around him.
He couldn't help himself from allowing his eyes to wonder every now and then over to some of the projects being worked on. Lingering a little outside of one cubicle as they talked about website design and menu feature options. His mouth was practically watering from the thought of it all.
Troy suddenly wished he'd tried harder to find a job. He could wait tables, deliver pizza or clean houses – anything that would pay his bills. But this job was paying his bills, he reminded himself. It may not be his chosen career path but it was easier than waiting tables and he had the experience. Besides it was too late to think about getting another job now he was already receiving final notices in the mail for his utilities. He needed the money and this was the best offer he'd had so far.
Okay, it was his only job offer so far. And 3 months of unemployment had made it not eligible for negotiation. He should just be so lucky he was hired as an entry level IT Tech rather than a Janitor. Things could always be a lot worst.
When he came to a corner filled with offices he looked up at the office doors and let out a sigh as he located 301. Looking around he glanced towards reception and found no one at the desk. Turning around he glanced back down the hall and found it deserted. Deciding to wing it, he came up to the door and knocked, but found no response.
"Hello," he called out.
When no one answered he reached for the knob and turn it letting himself in. The office was not at all what he expected. From the way the rest of the office design was he expected something cold and Spartan like, with a lot of empty space, no human touch whatsoever. Instead, the first thing that caught his eye when he walked in was the variety of tropical plants thriving around the office.
Some were clustered by the window, some featured in a small alcove against the back wall, and a few small ones even lived on the massive mahogany desk. The multitude of grow lights gave the office a soft, welcoming glow. The ceiling, too, was just the right height- not so tall that the space was forbidding, but not so low that it felt stuffy and cramped.
"Wow," Troy murmured to himself as he walked up to the desk and let his hand run along the edge. "What's a guy got to do to get a desk like this?"
Coming around the desk he glanced at the computer with envy. His personal computer was a decade old, running on borrowed time. Not at all like the beauty that he was currently looking at. This was portable touch-screen all-in-one computer. Something like this probably had 8GB of memory and a 1 terabyte Hard Drive.
He looked at the wireless keyboard and mouse with his bottom lip clenched between his teeth. "There no way they want me to crack you open."
Just then the office door flew open and overwhelming and powerful smell of Channel filled the room. "I want his head on a silver platter," the woman said with growl.
"Yes, maim," Said the other woman who followed.
"I have been living here and working in this country for a long time. This place is my home. This is where I have built everything that's important to me."
Troy watched the woman's fist shake with anger as she stomped her foot and came to a stop in the middle of the office. She was an image of grays and creams in her suit that must have cost more than his rent. Her hair was pulled back high in an elaborate bun. Not a strand out of place even in her fit of rage.
"Miss Montez," the other woman said quietly as she pointed toward Troy.
The woman looked up and immediately turned around her gaze narrowed and two cinnamon brown eyes knocked him right out of his stupor and into a terrible sinking feeling of wrong place at the wrong time.
"Hey." It was all he could muster.
"Who the hell are you?" her arms crossed and Troy sinking feeling was going under faster.
"Troy, from IT, Please don't fire me. I guarantee you, my life is a lot worse than yours and just the fact that I have to live it is punishment enough."
A small smirk pulled at her lips and her stance relaxed an inch, which wasn't much but he'd take it for the mile it might get him. "How is that?"
"Excuse me?" he asked caught off guard.
She shrugged her shoulders as if losing interest in the conversation rapidly, "How is your life worse than mine?"
Troy let out a sigh as he looked around the office with a raised brow, "Well, I mean do you know if Bon Jovi is still wanted Dead or Alive because I could really use the money?"
At that she lifted a hand to her lips to stifle a small giggle.
The sound of it seemed to not only shock him but shock her as well because as soon as the noise escaped her lips her eyebrows shot up in a curious expression.
"Why are you in my office?"
"There was an order to install ram on a computer at 301," he said holding up the work order sheet.
She stood in place hand held out as she motioned to see the piece of paper. When he realized she wasn't going to walk over to him he walked over to her and handed her the paper. "Sorry, I'm new here."
"Obviously."
Troy's eyebrows shot up and he eyed her with surprise. From this close up she seemed softer around the edges not so crisp and stone like. Her eyes read the work order. And then for some reason he'd never understand he couldn't stop the next words from coming out of his mouth. "Your perfume is very nice."
Her eyes flew up and two cinnamon brown discs examined him as if they were looking at an alien. "Does your girlfriend know that you're a charmer Mr. Bolton?" she offered him the work order.
A laugh escaped his lips and he took the work order back, "Yeah, I'll let Mila Kunis know immediately."
"You're quite the jokester aren't you Mr. Bolton?"
Her tone was sobering.
"I'm sorry."
"This work order is for station 301, not my office."
"Oh." His stomach hollowed. "I am terribly sorry for my existence and I would like to offer my eternal solitude and unhappiness as a peace offering."
"Is that all?" she said crossing her arms again.
"I'm going to leave, maybe find an unlocked window and jump from it just to make up for last 5 minutes of life."
Gabriella watched with a cautious glaze as the man in blue jeans left her office. She felt her lips pull in another unexpected smile and she quickly reminded herself that despite her momentary distraction she had other problems.
Turning back to her assistant, she let out a small grunt. "We need a plan."
"Yes, maim."
"That paperwork should have allowed me to legally live and work here. Now thanks to Jason Cross, I've lost a great deal of money and I'm receiving notice that I'm not longer welcome here. Like I'm some kind of terrorist. Seriously?"
Her assistant shut the door and sat down at the small table. "Should I notify your attorney?"
"Yes," Gabriella made her way around her desk examining the items on top to make sure nothing had been disturbed in her absents. "I want to go over my options, I am not ready to leave. I'm president and CEO of Software Solutions, I'll be damned if I give my company to some idiot who's going to run it into the ground."
A moment passed and she looked back towards the door. Her mind went back to man in blue jeans who had been standing here a few moments before. His eyes had been the bluest blue she'd ever seen and they were all she could think about while he stood there so close to her. Closer than any man had stood by her in a long time. Close enough to smell her perfume. And he liked it.
The last thought made her lips twitch again and she let out a groan of irritation. Honestly of all the things she didn't have time for, a crush on a maintenance man was one of them. Sitting down at her desk she fired up her computer and let out a small growl.
How long had it been since a man had complimented her? Her tastes had mellowed since the last time she activity searched for a man she showed any interest in. Nowadays she preferred the elegant, sophisticated kind. A man who'd gone to the right school and spent his days in the office and his weekends at the right corporate functions.
Lately, however, work had taken over completely, and even that sort of man had failed to entice her away from the office for a night out.
But that was how she wanted it. Work was far more satisfying and rewarding than letting some well-bred suit and tie take her out to an expensive restaurant that served a few pieces of lettuce elegantly arranged on a plate and called it dinner. Work didn't complain and frankly the conversations were better.
No, there hadn't been a man she'd wanted to take her out for a very long time.
Not that they hadn't tried to take her out. But she always refused. There was too much work to do especially since she taken over Software Solutions. Late nights, early mornings, including weekends, left little time for dates.
Which was probably why the man in blue jeans affected her so much. Too much bottled up stress and sexual energy that needed to be released. That must be it. She'd just needed to get primal for a while and feel like a woman after all these months of nothing but work. She just wanted attention is all.
Later that afternoon Taylor sat across from her in a chair looking over the paper work. "Girl, this is bad."
"But can we do something?"
Taylor let out a sigh as she let the heap of paper work fall into her lap. "Well I do have a connection at the INS, it might get us some wiggle room but not a lot."
"And what does that mean?" Gabriella said leaning on her desk as she crossed her arms. She hated feeling helpless.
Taylor looked up at Gabriella and let out a sigh, "It means we have to submit the paperwork again."
"I'll never make the deadline at this rate. I'll be kicked out of the country and I won't be allowed to return for whole year."
"Well," Taylor said quietly, "there is one other option."
Gabriella let out a sigh, "Thank god," she stood up straighter, "let's start working on it."
"Have you considered getting married?"
"W-what?" Gabriella jerked away from her desk, her entire body rim rod stiff as she looked down at Taylor with disbelief. "Are you suggesting that I commit marriage fraud in order to stay in the United States?" she whispered harshly.
"Do you have a better idea?"
Gabriella looked at her longtime friend and attorney, her insides twisted and her gut wrenched up into throat.
"It's no big deal, people get married all the time."
"Not when their getting deported."
Taylor let out a laugh, "especially when their getting deported."
Gabriella brought her hands up to her temples and then slowly ranked a hand through her hair. "This can't be happening to me."
"Well, it's happening," Taylor said matter of fact.
"I refuse to believe that I, Gabriella Marie Montez, president and CEO of Software Solutions is being deported like some kind of … like … like someone who's a criminal."
"It happens."
"I pay my taxes."
"Welcome to America."
Gabriella took two steps and sunk into the chair besides Taylor. "What am I going to do?"
Taylor was quiet as she watched her best friend hyperventilate beside her, "Sweetie, Chad knows a lot of suitable young men, I could have one of them down here in a half an hour. You just have to be married for two years, if you get on this now and make it as legit and real as possible we can make this work."
Gabriella frowned, "No."
"No?"
"I have someone."
Taylor entire face widen in surprise, "You do?"
"Maybe, I don't know. I have to ask."
Gabriella felt her pulse sky rocket. If she was going to do this she wasn't going to be stuck with some prep school socialite that would drive her out of her mind. No, if she had to do this she knew exactly the kind of man she wanted for the job. Someone who already feared her and she'd have complete control over.