Here we go. Thanks for all of your awesome comments. I hope you'll enjoy this one.
Thanks Em!
Chapter 2
Bo arrived home way past eleven pm. The small white hand-made sign told her that the elevator was 'Out of Order' (as usual) so she had to take the stairs up to the sixth floor. It wasn't the first time and it definitely wouldn't be the last.
After a fourteen hour day of following orders and making a fool of herself here and there, why wouldn't she have loved to climb the one hundred thirty eight stairs when she had come home tonight?
Yes, she had counted them. Out of pure boredom and maybe a bit of despair, because most of the time the lift had been on vacation when Bo's feet and legs had been heavy and sore after a day of walking around or standing behind a sales counter.
When she finally unlocked the door to her small apartment she felt relief until she took a step into living hell. The room was overheated. Although it had been a warm early summer's day, it shouldn't have become that hot inside. Like really hot. The water in the small bowl she refilled for Bane was dried out, placed on the floor next to the fridge. The cat was laying stretched out on the flagged floor of the bathroom near the toilet, clearly searching for a less heated spot to sleep.
"Dammit. I swear, I'll kill Ernst."
Bo slammed the door back into its frame and stomped right up to the radiator at the wall across the entrance. It was boiling hot and she could almost hear the hissing sound when her fingers touch its surface. Like a steak in a pan.
Ernst, the facility manager-he insisted to be addressed as such although he was just a common laborer and a very bad one at that-had promised to repair the heating system yesterday, when Bo had told him about the broken regulation.
Keys still in her left hand and sucking on her burnt fore and middle finger of her right one, Bo ran back outside the front door. She flew the one hundred thirty eight stairs back down to stop in front of Ernst's apartment knocking like a maniac on the thick wood in front of her.
"Hey, hey, hey. Stop the noise. What's the matter, dolly bird?"
A very short, very fat, very disgusting, mostly hairless gnome, except of that one filthy, grubby black strand he used to comb from the left side all the way atop of his noggin to the right side, opened the door after a long time of knocking and yelling from the brunette. He was in his late fifties and used to play the role of Casanova, or better said, what Ernst thought Casanova would be like. He failed. Big time.
He was wearing a muscle shirt once white but now grime-strained with a variation of multiple substances. Some were definitely a hand full of days older than others. His worn out blue overall was hanging loose on his hips and Bo sent up a silent prayer that it would stay put for as long as she had to deal with him.
"Ernst, the radiator. You said, you would fix it. My cat is almost dead up there. How am I supposed to sleep in that?"
His dirty nails picked at his teeth, eyeing Bo up and down lecherously.
"Yeah, you see, cutie," his tongue brushed against his teeth and with a final smack of his lips he continued, "I had a lot of work to do today. I'll fix it tomorrow."
He was about to close the door again when Bo's right shoe fitted foot held the door open.
"No. You and I will go into the basement and either fix it or at least turn off the radiator system as long as it's not working properly. I cannot stay up there, I'll be dead-roasted by tomorrow."
"You could stay here with me anytime you want, honey pie."
Bo's anger and disgust painted her face beet red. A shiver running down her back from the facility manager leering at her. Her inner voice cried out to punch him, hard, or at least let his low hanging balls get introduced with her right knee, but her logical mind won over her instincts. Unfortunately she was dependent on his help. Yeah, she could turn off the heater all by herself, but that shabby garden goblin had the keys she would need to get into the radiator-central.
"Oh. That is, uh...really um, flattering, but I have to decline. My cat, you know- and I have to get up very early tomorrow. So would you make a tired girl happy and do something about that heat?"
After forty exhausting minutes and at least five of them gross, a few not so innocent remarks of Ernst, including a not anticipated view of his hairy, flabby ass crack later, which made Bo's stomach twist and turn in revulsion, she could get back into her four walls of silence and, well, inferno of an apartment.
Bane hadn't moved a muscle since the brunette last saw him. He didn't even deign to look at the weary brunette entering the bathroom.
Bo was sweaty and she smelled like a construction worker. Her work clothes hit the floor in less than ten seconds, good thing she got herself two sets of everything. A few minutes later, she found herself standing in the old and rusty bathtub, with cold water running down her spine.
Of course Ernst couldn't repair the heating system. How could he? He wasn't even very technically gifted. Bo once thought, the only job his tool belt had had to accomplish was to ensure that his overall would cover all the important pieces no one should ever have to face. Only one job!
But what was there to expect of an also very worn out leather bolt, screaming for mercy under the weight it had to carry?
So Ernst switched off the whole system including the radiator and hot water by showing off that extraordinary view of his very own Grand Canyon while crawling across the floor to the wall to get to the fuse box.
Bo made a mental note to not watch Ernst, while he was repairing stuff mainly by pulling the plug of any and everything and pretending it was all done, ever again.
After an unintended, but refreshing, cold shower, Bo was sitting on the small couch placed in the center of the room. All of the three windows of her apartment were open wide to get the heat out and some fresh air into the four walls of her domicile. She was wrapped up in a big towel. Her hair still wet, since the air of her hair dryer couldn't compare to the room temperature anyways, eating some buffalo mozzarella.
Her fridge was shimmering with yawing void. She found a beer and that little white ball of heaven she almost inhaled rather than ate. Bane sat next to her, looking up, listening carefully with his tail slightly moving.
A soft purring echoed through the apartment. The back of the sofa left enough space from the kitchen counter to walk through. A fridge, an oven and second countertop on the opposite wall with a tiny sink to the left and a microwave placed on the right atop, completed the apartment. It wasn't much but Bo was proud of every centimeter of her living quarters.
Patting her cat every now and then, Bo was reflected on the day's events by telling Bane all the delicate highlights, like she always did. A ritual both of them enjoyed.
"...and then she stepped into the elevator. No 'thank you' or anything. Just sipping the coffee I bought her. Not even mentioning that it was my money or any sign that she might be impressed that I managed to get the right amount of coffee and sugar or that I knew about her liking for hot and cold coffee at all."
Looking around her eyes fell onto the picture frame of her mother smiling back at her, standing on one of the boards of her shelf. It was a large self made shelf decorated with a few books, Blue rays (although the lack of a TV, not to mention a Blueray-player made it difficult to watch any of her favorite movies), CD's, a lamp, some candles and on top Bane's favorite place to stay and observe the surroundings separated the living area from the bedroom.
Well, bedroom was a rather flattering name to call the ninety to two hundred centimeter mattress in a steel-frame standing on brick stones and an old wooden case of wine converted into a nightstand positioned on the right side of the bed.
She had found most of the furniture in other peoples bulk trash and rebuilt, revised or repaired it with her own hands. She loved to create new things out of old stuff.
"Oh, and the way she made me feel. Uh- like I was back in middle school. I had this teacher who could freeze you in your tracks when he demanded you stop goofing around. She has this annoying calmness, too, even though something's visibly pissing her off. And believe me, that is quite a lot. She hasn't once raised her voice. Never. She is like the Nobel Prize keeper for inner peace and absolute control of mimic and gesticulation. It's driving me crazy."
Her gaze dropped back to her cat, who made his way onto the woman's lap, stretching, turning several times and finally letting himself plop down like a sand bag. Bo finished the last bite of cheese and drank the remaining puddle of beer. She adored that animal. Bane was a stray, almost famished when Bo had found him in that alley across the street.
He only had one eye and three legs. His red and white spotted fur became felted at the top of his back. His mew broke while he snuggled along Bo's legs. The cat hadn't been and still wasn't a beauty, but Bo's heart had swelled when she first saw him.
She had just moved in a few days prior, when she had heard his hoarse small voice on the back street and felt a bit lonely at that time as well. So one plus one made two lost souls happier and filled her empty apartment with life. Simple mathematics.
"The agency must have forgotten to tell me, that this job not only entails driving the freaking Dalai Lama around town, but being a modern slave who has to fulfill every wish your highness whispers in this authoritative yet soft way that's giving me the creeps.
Buying coffee had only been the tip of the iceberg. I was forced to go grocery shopping in a vegan shop while she had her meeting. Vegan, Bane.
What happened to the times where you would get drunk until you could hardly stand up and walk anymore, searching for the next junk food diner for a late night snack? Jesus freaking vegan.
Next stop, some Eco-laundry shop on the other end of the damn city to get her suits 'because it is the best in town, Driver'. Yeah, that's the icing on the cake. She's calling me driver, Bane. Yeah, fucking driver. She wouldn't even try to remember my name. I never felt more humiliated in my life."
Bane stared back at her, his small head leaning to the side.
"Yeah, okay, except for that tiny rat of a dog that was hunting me when I was wearing that Wiener-costume. You don't have to look at me like that, it was trying to eat me! I saw this- look."
Bo stood up and went to her bed. The cat watched her leave only to follow seconds after. The air had cooled down a bit by now. Bo replaced the towel with a black tank top and red boxer short. When she laid down a soft sigh left her lungs.
She set the alarm clock next to the bed. Five hours left to rest, to get up and drive back to that lean, blonde epitome of composure.
Clapping her hands twice the room went dark. Another item of her apartment she loved. She had installed this little gimmick herself, too. A girl needed some gadget tuning from time to time. She had to pretend to be Carlos's- a Spanish Matador- date to get this little child's play in hand.
Matador was the name of the large refreshment stand around the corner where Bo had to pass through when she was heading home. Since Carlos was one-eighth Spanish, he told everybody, everybody means every one with boobs and long legs, he was a Matador. That afternoon, the one she accidentally kicked that Chihuahua and half tore that Wiener-Costume to shreds, she was in need for an ice cold beer. So she bought one at Matador. Carlos was talking to another costumer about lights and installations, when Bo exited the store.
He had that sound controlled light system and wanted to get rid of it since it would go on and off every time he did the horizontal tango with some hot chick, who must have been deaf and blind to get anywhere near Carlos, Bo had been sure about that. The brunette hadn't thought it through when she joined the conversation and before she knew what was happening she was the happy owner of said system but also found herself sitting in his dirty car on the way to some cheap restaurant for a date night.
Carlos had never tried to hit on Bo ever again when she performed her bitch-I'm-fabulous routine by ordering a menu of three courses only to recall it as unpalatable and bad as soon as the hors d'oeuvre had been served. The insistence to get a better dish to yet again refuse to eat it when the poor waiter got her the new one, because it wasn't what Bo thought 'medium raw' would be like. Some hysterical fit of laughter topped the restaurant visit and the night finally ended shortly after it had started with Carlos searching for the right words to excuse his date and for Bo to walk back home alone.
A heavier sigh filled the quite room. As exhausted as she felt right now, Bo knew sleep wasn't far. This job would challenge her in multiple ways. She had to keep herself together in every situation, stay out of any trouble and do whatever the heck this Lewis-Woman asked of her regardless of whether Bo liked it or not. She needed to stay focused. The Money, think about the money.
At least the car was a bonus. The agency told her to keep it for the week and return it for the weekends for cleaning and refilling if necessary. The only anchor she could hold onto. The weekends. Two days without being ordered around. This had only been her first day and her body and mind felt like working for weeks without a break.
How could a woman like that blonde Lewis-Person be so hot on the outside but cold as bloody Ben and Jerry's chocolate chip ice cream on the inside? Bo had caught herself more than once staring at her, sitting relaxed in the back of the car.
Another mystery.
The blonde seemed to tense up the second her right foot touched the concrete every time she left the car but would fall back into a sleep-like state as soon as she hit the seats and the door blocked out the world on the other side.
Closing her tired eyelids she felt her cat laying down next to her head on the pillow. His low purring sounds echoed through the air.
"Good night, little lion."
The week went by really fast. Bo was busy following orders, driving through thick traffic and the hardest part, keeping vicious remarks to a minimum or even the better trying to shut that damn mouth of hers completely. There had been at least one million reasons to call that Lewis-Lady names she wasn't used to hearing, especially from her staff, but there was one freaking good one to do otherwise. Staying employed. It was all about keeping the job.
So when Friday afternoon passed and the clock in the Radio slash Navigation-System slash Backup Camera switched to happy hour, Bo called the end of work day happy hour, the tight frown on her forehead disappeared and a small smile tucked on the corners of her lips. She would need a bath tub full of anti-aging plus Q10 creme to straighten those wrinkles.
Two hours left and you have the next fifty something hours to do nothing but chilly-vanilly.
Bo made a invisible list, on her invisible notebook, with her invisible black ballpen( she hated blue ballpens) of all the things she would do. Starting with a hot bubble bath tonight. She would buy a six pack of beer at Matador, maybe she could embarrass Carlos just a bit more. This job brought out the worst out of her. And she needed chips, she hadn't had chips for like ever and then she would snuggle up onto her couch with her favorite music filling her ears, her cat on her stomach and...
"...then you can get me at six pm tomorrow evening and..."
Wait what?
Bo stepped on the brakes of that monstrous vehicle and with squeaking wheels the Hummer came to a halt. When she turned around hectically she was met with an angry pair of almost golden orbs staring holes into her head. It reminded her of the eye of Sauron, that evil guy of Lord of the Rings. Her blonde tresses hanging in front of the woman's face like curtains. One simple move of Bo's right foot and the figure of pure perfection sitting in the back turned into a mess.
Like that one time she tried to paint her ceiling. She was dancing through her empty apartment painting and singing and didn't notice the little flask of red nail polish slipping from the windowsill into the white color after brushing past with her butt, still open from the nail-polishing-session the day before.
But that woman glancing back at her was a gorgeous mess nonetheless. Bo had to swallow hard and blinked about ten to- fifty times. She had never once seen this business lady without her sunglasses. Now the prompt stop caused them to fly off the blondes beautiful face and all the way to the dashboard.
Uh-oh...
She had forgotten what she wanted to say, let alone the topic of their last conversation. Those eyes took her breath away. The intensity glaring back at her made her palms sweaty. Damn, was she turned on? Again?
"What is the matter, Driver? Are you going to sit there staring at me the whole night or is there something you wanted to say? Clearly there must have been a deer in front of the car, in the middle of city, because I cannot think of a better explanation as to why you felt the need to push the breaks like that."
And boom, turned off. That calm and controlled voice again. Bo really thought, she would get some bum basting, not that she was into that, but...
"I- uh- I thought, I had the weekends off."
"Yes, well, change in schedule. I need you to pick me and my- colleague up at six."
Was she just degraded to Lewis little helper to get laid? Awesome.
"But the agency..."
"I am the agency."
Great. So this wasn't just any business woman she had to chauffeur, no, it was her boss of a business woman. That meant this L&L sign hanging above the entrance of the company she got those set of wheels stood for Lewis &- whatever, not Leave & Get Lost or Too Long & Luxurious or any other associations Bo's filthy, little brain had come up with when she saw those big balls and penis enhancements of cars parked in rank and file.
"And speaking of schedules, I need your mobile phone number, so that me or my secretary can contact you whenever your services are required. You left that part blank in your application papers."
Bo turned back around and steered the car back into the evening traffic.
"I don't have a phone number."
"Excuse me?"
Bo spoke up louder.
"I said, I don't have a phone number or a mobile phone, or any other kind of modern communication odds and ends."
"Where are you coming from? The Stone Age? I can't believe this."
Bo kept her eyes on the street.
No, you won't, Bo. Shut up, shut up.
"Better The Stone Age than Goat's Island."
"Excuse me?"
Shit.
Gripping the steering wheel tight, Bo waited for the inevitable to crash upon her. But looking in the back mirror she saw the blonde on the phone. She must have missed that goat remark. Hopefully.
"Yes, secretary, I need you to get a mobile phone and take it to my apartment building. Give it to that old concierge at the lobby- Bob? Who is Bob?- I didn't ask for his name. Just bring it in time. We'll be there in..." Bo's newly unmasked boss leaned forward to look at the navigation system, "twenty minutes."
Without any other words, she hung up and sat back in her seat. Bo had a hard time concentrating on the street while her mind was trying to process the new mixture of scents floating in the air after the blonde invaded her pilot-area, her cockpit. Within the blink of an eye, Bo was way too focused trying to analyze those aromas in her nostrils to care about the speed limit or that red light at the end of the street screaming at her to slow down.
"Driver, are you trying to get into the World-Records-thing for some kind of high speed road race? This is not a race track and you're not Michael Schumacher."
Bo shook her head and managed to stop the car just in time or the old lady with a walking cane would have been laying underneath the black beauty of a Hummer.
Had her Boss just tried to make a joke?
Two hours later, Bo was sitting on the kitchen counter, staring on the mobile phone in her hands. A Samson Galaxies or something. Yvonne, that was the secretary's name, gave it to Bo with some instructions of how to load it and how to receive a call. She whispered in Bo's ear to never ever turn it off or run out of battery.
Her boss walked right through the lobby to the elevator. No further orders or even a goodbye. She just went on.
Bo hated those cellphones. After her job in the call center she never would have thought she could hate these obtrusive little ringing-monsters more. But she did. And now here she was sitting at home, the enemy in hand.
"What am I supposed to do with something like that?"
Although she loved technology, she had never been taken to that smartphone generation. In her head, walking and typing stupid little massages with stupid little so called emojis didn't fit at all. The brunette not just wanted to see where she was going but she wanted to explore the places she went or drove through. The scenery, the landscapes, the people, the little things like the sunbeams shining through the clouds of the morning sky.
Bane jumped at the counter to crawl onto her lap. Bo, lost in thoughts, flinched and the phone slipped through her hands on the hard kitchen floor.
"Dammit! Bane!"
Pushing the cat aside, the brunette got on her feet and reached out to grab the object of reluctance. Holding it carefully in her hands, looking for any kind of visible damage.
Relieved when she couldn't make out any scares of broken pieces she pressed the phone to her chest. Bane eyed down at the scene. His bushy tail twitching an unsteady rhythm. His light brown orbs observed the brunette suspiciously. Bo looked up at him.
"Yes I know. We hate them. But I am forced to own this piece of cheap plastic and overpriced metal. Sorry for pushing you away. Come here you little ball of fur."
Bo got up and petted him behind his right ear. The area which got him all cuddly and purr-y. He nudged his head against the brunette's caressing palm and brushed his way along her upper arm to the other side of the counter. A quick estimate of the distance between counter top and floor, he leaned forward and elegantly dove down to land on his paws without much of a sound. With his tale held high he strode out of the kitchen to the couch.
Bo jumped when the phone vibrated three times and a high ping rang out, like a microwave signaling when the timer had run out. Looking at the dark screen, a small lamp was blinking in the right corner near the earpiece. Pressing the button Yvonne had shown her, the display lit up and revealed a numeric keypad.
"Password. Shit, what was it."
Holding the item in her left hand, her right one was patting over her working pants. Front pockets to back pockets, to the front again.
"I know you must be somewhere. Come on. Don't- hide, ha!"
A small crumpled piece of paper found its way to the counter. Bo placed the phone next to the sheet and straightened the wrinkles.
"2407? Very funny Miss Lewis. Very funny!"
After tipping the numbers on the touchscreen the black thin bar at the top of the display showed the time, the status of the battery, which was fully loaded and the quality of the connection, which wasn't the best from what Bo could tell. One bar wasn't much, so it must be a miserable connection.
On the other end of the black line, a small envelope waited desperately to be opened. Bo's forefinger brushed across the screen and the bar followed her movement. Touching the small symbol a massage popped up.
'Tomorrow, six pm sharp. Lewis'
"Well, thanks for reminding me, I almost forgot. That's going to be sooo much fun."
With an ironic smirk on her lips and an overly enthusiastic wave of her fist through the air in front of her, Bo headed into the bathroom to get ready for bed, leaving the phone on the counter. It would still be there when morning came and Bo had no intention of getting it anywhere near her that night anymore.
