Chapter 7
Twenty seven minutes late. In words twenty seven. Could have been worse.
"You're late!"
She didn't even knock. One hand was busy to fan some air in her face. The other was stemmed in her side. She wasn't prepared yet. Not one bit. The door flew open while she was still calming herself down. She was angry and hot and hadn't counted to ten yet.
"You took", breathe, "my car!"
Even though she had some time to catch her breath in the elevator there was still a lack of air in Bo's lunges.
"I hate waiting!"
She couldn't be serious. This woman just couldn't be serious.
"You took my damn car!"
Memo to herself: breathing through clenched teeth – less intake of fresh air. Okay maybe she should start counting. This went into a very bad direction.
One.
"You should work on your punctuality."
Two!
"And your tone."
Threeee.
Her Boss stood in the doorway with her right hand on the door knob showing off her poker face-like impression. The night before didn't even show its ugliness on her freaking flawless face. She could be a serial killer and totally pull off being Barbara the innocent.
Bo had her fair share of Barbaras for a lifetime.
As a student, there was this girl in class. She was the head of the cool-kids group. Something like the leader of the mascara-gang. Bo and Barbara had their… moments. Barbara loved to push other kids around and never got called out because unfortunately she also was the teacher's favorite. For a matter of unknown curiosities, or maybe because she never left out any discussion, Bo was quite the opposite.
So, no one believed her, when the brunette professed that Barb-dick was the first that started to pull her hair. Unfortunately, the knot of very badly bleached hair in Bo's fist and that racoon-faced crybaby of innocence told a different story.
No one saw that Bo's hair was totally out of place, too. Her carefully arranged ponytail took almost five minutes to look as if she just got out of bed. It's a gift. Well, for most of the time she did just get out of bed and sometimes her head was hanging off the mattress while she put the hairband in but that was not the point at all!
Also, this was a long time ago.
With another intake of breathe and the try to reach some level of calmness or rather non-rage -she shouldn't set the bar too high- the brunette crossed her arms over her chest.
"Have you ever tried to get from my part of town to your part of town by foot?"
Okay, child, breathe. And count. Three or was it four already? Couldn't hurt to repeat a number here. Or all ten for that matter.
"You're also dripping!"
Four.
"What?"
"My carpet. It's wet."
Five. This could actually work this time. She already felt...
"Well, Miss Lewis, it is indeed raining outside."
...less irritated.
"You couldn't have taken an umbrella?"
‚Six. You can do this. Just keep on going. Just like this one time after Franco spilled his blueberry juice all over your favorite shirt in high school. No biggie.'
"Well in my part of town it wasn't raining when I left. By foot. Cause surprisingly enough I couldn't find my car keys where I left them or anywhere else in my rather small apartment. But now there's the thing, as chance would have it neither was the car they belong to. And as a matter of fact, I don't own an umbrella."
On second thoughts. That Franco-story might have not turned out that well. She did calm down. She really did. Until she didn't anymore because that Franco dude wouldn't stop making stupid comments like Bo would have won the wet-T-shirt-contest and stuff like that.
So, it lasted as long as it did before Bo dragged him out of the cafeteria and into the girl's toilette. Bo for once got a new shirt that day. It had been easy to get him to taking off his Korn band-shirt. Smelled like aftershave but at least she looked great in it. Black was her color anyway. Franco on the other hand got a new girl cut shirt with blueberry juice all over the front. He wore neon pink and belly free that day. Wasn't the easiest year in school for him.
Seven.
"You know that rain is a very common thing in Toronto that part of the year? You should buy yourself an umbrella."
This is just not what Bo wanted to hear nor do after walking through the rain for an hour and a half. Using public transportation on a Saturday evening also wasn't the fluffiest pony in the barn. More like a short-bristled, old, grey and blurred eyed donkey.
Just like Mister Ed from that farm she went to as a child. She baptized him Mister Ed because she liked the thought of her being the only chosen one who could actually talk to a horse. Like in that TV series. Well, or donkey in that case. Could also have been that the donkey wasn't even male. But who cares about gender anyway?
"Where is your uniform."
Bo was jolted out of her time travel.
"My what now?"
The brunette had been eyed up and down by her Boss. Twice. And if she hadn't known better, she would have thought her Boss' glances lingered some seconds too long on that V-cut of her shirt. Soaking wet could be a nice sight when one wore the right shirt.
Boohya- high five to cleavage.
"It's my day off. I didn't think I had to wear my uniform when I wasn't working."
"So, you're here for some friendly visit?"
The blonde mirrored her driver's standing position.
"Friendly vi-... well you wrote me a note."
"So, you are indeed working?"
Bo's right hand went through her wet strands.
"Uhm, to be frank, the last time I saw you, you were lying in some alcoholic dreamland in my bed and..."
"Shhht!"
Her boss waved her hands in front of the brunette, cutting her off in mid-sentence. Bo saw a picture she hadn't seen before and didn't think was even possible.
Not with her Boss.
Not Miss Lewis.
Always having the upper hand over her emotions. Although she also wouldn't have dreamt about her being in the state she was in yesterday, lying in Bo's bed. Well, maybe she did once or twice but who could sue her? Her Boss was hot.
"Shhht? Why? We're alone!"
So why was Bo whispering?
Bo looked around. The hallway was empty and the elevator doors long closed. That alert woman in front of her got a grip on Bo's left forearm and with a strong pull, the brunette wasn't prepared for yet again, the blonde dragged her inside and closed the door after them. With the back to the driver, the blonde's head was hanging low.
Silence. Silencio. Quiet-o.
"Where am I?"
Bo spun around slowly. It was some kind of hallway but one she had never seen before. The walls were tiled. From floor to ceiling. Correction. Everything was tiled. Walls, floor plus the ceiling. Black tiles shining with soap and water. No finger prints, nor foot prints. Just a trail of water drops that were still dripping off of Bo's hair and clothes.
The brunette was standing in the middle of the corridor. What was that about her Boss being a serial killer again? She had watched way too much Dexter.
Four lamps in every corner spent some light. Definitely not bright enough for slaughtering living creatures.
Or was it? Bo had never tried it, so she wouldn't know.
There was a heavy dark wooden door on her right and a one made of steel on her left side.
"You are about to enter my private quarters."
Bo jerked when she felt her Boss' breath on her still damp left cheek. The blonde stood close to her. There was still enough space between them but the way that woman lent forward with her hands behind her back almost whispering those words made Bo's heart speed up again. And not just because of dread.
That traitor.
"Uhu."
Get a grip.
Her Boss walked to the wooden door Bo was still looking at. She felt excitement growing inside of her when she thought about the fact that she's got a backstage invitation for the mysterious loft she hadn't been allowed to put one foot in for as long as she worked for Miss Lewis. Plus, she'd never been backstage.
Ex-ci-ting!
"Before I open that door," the blonde turned around and Bo almost crashed right into her.
"Sorry."
Bo's mind was already inside although her body clearly wasn't. Her Boss didn't back off. Yet again they were standing way too close. The driver could smell her Boss' shampoo and freshly washed clothes and in her head, she was back in that dirty taxi holding a sleeping blonde in her arms.
"Before I open that door I want you to know, that this is a onetime thing. I strictly separate everything work related from my private life."
There was that tone again. That tone Bo was used to hearing from her Boss. The blonde was back in her role. Well it was nice as long as it lasted to see some human-like reactions.
"Noted," Bo stepped back, crossing her arms over her chest again. Defensive mode on full charge.
Roleplay! Count me in, honey.
She knew how to roleplay. She freaking ruled roleplay. Like a Boss. Ever since Mother-Father-Child in fifth grade she knew how to stay in character. As well as she knew how to pretend as if she didn't give a flying unicorn that no one wanted to have her roleplaying with them.
Ever since this little incident in the middle of one of the fictive games, no one ever wanted to include her again.
Well it wasn't her fault that Tyler stepped on her imaginary tail. He could have been more careful. Bo took her role as the cat of the house serious and when someone stepped onto her tail, they had to bear with the consequences.
Her mother made her draw a 'Sorry'-card.
Twice.
She didn't know why her mum wouldn't accept a waving kitten with a 'better watch your steps' banner. She thought it was a well-meant advice. Instead she wrote 'sorry that I jumped you and bit your nose and scratched your neck'. Before she put it in the self-made envelope she added 'and better watch your steps next time' when her mum didn't look.
"Okay," with that Miss Lewis opened the door.
"What the..."
Bo's mouth fell open. She stepped inside a huge living room. On the left was a comfortable looking couch in front of a TV. Its size was perfect to cover that shabby view out of the windows at the brunette's place.
To her right some stairs led up to another door. Probably the bedroom.
Walking in a bit further there was the kitchen to her right. Nothing too big but enough space to prepare food and to not collide with the sink or stove. She touched her right elbow absentmindedly. Whole different story which is not worth mentioning any further right now so don't ask!
"Oh my... Do you play?"
Bo crossed the room to the other side. Her fingertips brushed over the coldish smoothly polished wood of a shiny brown grand piano.
"She's a beauty, isn't she?"
The brunette looked up and back to a smiling blonde leaning against the wall to her left.
"Yeah, she is."
Bo did mean the piano, but seeing her Boss smiling and more relaxed than ever in her white business blouse with the last two buttons left open and those black suit pants fitting just perfectly, weren't half bad either.
Bo walked around the piano and pushed one of the white keys down. The sound echoed through the silence up to the high ceiling. She pushed another key and another one.
"It sounds amazing."
"For sixty three thousand Canadian dollars she better does sound amazing!"
Bo's finger slipped down over three white keys when her brain had processed what those numbers meant. Was that a waterdrop on the polish? Is that dust or did she break one of the black keys? Did she even touch the black ones? She swallowed hard before she turned around to face the chuckling blonde.
How adorable her Boss could be?
Bo shook her head.
"Well, it does sound amazing."
"Yes. Steinway and Sons know how to build a body to create a unique sound. The room has the perfect shape to make every tone sound like its very own symphony. It's amazing."
Bo nodded. As if she knew anything about pianos. Or the shape a room should have. Or about why she starred at her Boss like she did which was probably not appropriate for an employee and she should definitely stop right about now and swallow that saliva-lake back down, thank you very much!
She could easily find an excuse like that she just loved to listen to someone who knew what they were talking about. But to be honest here, a beautiful blonde business woman, rocking an outfit like that as well as being smart and talking with that adoration? Who could blame a young brunette in her best years, who was lacking an intimate life for more than… whatever.
"Nice apartment. Although..."
The brunette looked around.
"… you're lacking windows."
Actually, there was no window at all. Nowhere. The room was made of four walls. Three of them were cream-colored and the one right next to the piano was all black.
Well, tastes differ, so they say.
"Oh."
The blonde pushed herself off the wall and walked to the opposite side of the room.
"When I came home I actually didn't feel the need of daylight."
Next to the front door was a touchscreen the size of Bo's microwave with a lot of different symbols on it. Her Boss pushed some combination and a second later the black wall next to Bo disappeared.
The brunette couldn't believe what she was seeing. A huge windowfront appeared. From floor to the ceiling. All the way from one side of the room to the other.
"This is..."
Bo cleared her throat.
"Not bad, Miss Lewis. Really not bad."
Her Boss was standing next to her now, looking outside the window watching the sunset over the skyline of Toronto. Of course, the rain had to stopped after Bo arrived. Now it was the most beautiful view.
"Yes, it is."
Bo stepped closer to the glass and looked down. Good thing she wasn't afraid of heights. She tried to make out the concrete of the street and moved closer and closer until her forehead banged against the window.
"And high up."
Rubbing her skin, she went back to her spot next to the blonde.
"Not that I'm not excited to see how you live, believe me I was wondering how it looked like in here..."
Bo looked around. She did imagine a lot. From little-worms-in-salad plantations to robots working on tiny implants to simply a bed and a table.
"…but why am I here?"
All of a sudden, the air in the loft seemed to grow freezing cold. Her Boss looked tense and switched back into her role like it was some kind of protective shield.
"Right."
The lightness and adoration Bo heard and felt radiating from the blonde when they were talking about the piano and the view were gone. Back to emotionless. Back to Casino-mode.
"You may sit down. I'm back in a second."
With that she was left alone. Her Boss left the room out the front door and closed it behind her.
The brunette clapped her hands on her thighs, not exactly sure about where to sit on or what to touch afraid to ruin it. She's pretty sure her insurance wouldn't cover clumsiness. Neither conspiracy of fate and karma. If she had an insurance that was. So, she decided to just keep on standing on that very spot she called dips on.
Turning her head to the right she saw a small stature on a small table next to the kitchen counter. She knelt down in front of the table, eye level with the small grey stone stature.
Damn curiosity of hers.
It was a person kneeling with a big ball on their back. Holding it in a seemingly uncomfortable position. Bo's forefinger reached out to the ball, which looked like earth. She could see the shape of the continents. The second she touched the ball the front door opened again and her Boss walked back in. Flabbergasted, Bo lunged sideways to the left and the ball flew to the right.
"Damn."
Bo got up and straightened her still very wet clothes.
"I'll pay for that."
Her Boss flipped through a pile of paper while walking through the door.
"Pay for what?"
Bo kicked the small ball that was rolling towards her left food into the back of the apartment.
"Nothing."
Snappy, Bo.
They sat down on the couch and yes, her ass had never ever touched anything like that before. And here she thought her Hummer was comfy.
So naïve.
"So, I prepared everything. You only have to sign here…"
The blonde handed Bo the papers and tipped on a thin line singed with an ‚X'.
"…and here…"
She flipped onto the next page. They felt warm and smelled freshly printed as well.
"… and here."
Bo nodded. Only because she had manners and was taught to do so because she understood the words and what the blonde asked her to do. Until she started shaking her head because her logical mind took over and she didn't get shit.
"What am I looking at?"
Bo scanned the paper and flipped back to the frontpage.
"Conspiracy of silence?"
The what of what now?
"Yes. You can read it through if you need to but to summarize the important facts, you sign to keep your mouth shut about everything that happened or what you heard last night and in exchange you get this."
The blonde placed a thick envelope on the coffee table. Bo didn't know what to say or think or if this was a set up. She had heard from this one girl that was pressured to sign some papers because she needed the money and in the end, she was on some ship sailing across the ocean to some harem. Or maybe that was a movie but anyway, stuff like that never turned out right.
Bo shook her head and blinked in disbelieve.
"So, what you're saying is you pay me for not telling anyone that you were drunk like a skunk."
"I would have chosen different words but yes."
The blonde stared into Bo's eyes. A cold brown. Bo would never have thought that brown eyes could look that way.
"Okay wait a second."
Bo placed the document on her lap and stared right back into the hazel eyes in front of her. Her Boss was sitting upright with her hands folded in her lap. She seemed like that business woman she was and Bo wondered if the blonde was only playing it cool or not.
She tried to read that face, those eyes but did come up with nothing.
Bo felt frustration crawling up her guts again. Frustration and anger. Her wet pants clung to her legs and the couch did its best to suck her ass dry. Bo couldn't care less if she ruined the expensive interior.
"You pay me?"
"Positive."
Bo looked at the envelope.
"How much?"
"5000."
Bo's throat felt as dry as Uncle Brad's citrus cake. It also tasted the same and there was no overly sweet herbal tea to swallow down the unpleasant sourness.
The brunette went through her hair. It was silent in the apartment. If there had been a clock on the wall, Bo was sure the clock hand would have played a drum duet with her heartbeat by now for everyone to listen to.
"5000?"
The blonde nodded.
"For my reticence?"
"Exactly."
Bo took in a sharp breath. Money was rare in her pockets at any time. The month would already start with red numbers. Although being a personal driver these past weeks had made it a bit less stressful. At least on the money-front.
She placed the papers next to the envelope on the table stood up and straightened her black leather jacket.
"No thanks."
Her Boss raised herself from her spot on the couch.
"If you try to squeeze more money out of this, I have to disappoint you."
The blonde remained her controlled self. It drove Bo crazy. So, she tried to do what was best in this situation. She breathed in, breathed out and gathered her thoughts before she stepped forward until she was directly in front of her Boss. With her eyes focused on the brown orbs she spoke up as calmly as possible.
"I already am disappointed. I might seem needy and I might be broke, but I will not let anyone buy my loyalty. I'm not for sale, Miss Lewis. So… keep your money."
Bo was proud of herself. Seemed there was a first time for everything. She felt lighter. Facing her Boss and addressing the obvious without any verbal assaults.
‚Take that Motherfuckers.'
The brunette walked on passing that statue of a Lewis when she heard the blonde's voice in her ears. There was a sharp edge to the words and Bo knew she had hit the right spot.
"Everybody has a price. I'm long enough in that business to know that."
Bo slowed down her steps. She didn't turn around even though she knew her Boss was looking at her.
"I'm not everybody, Miss Lewis."
Proudly she kept on walking and made it to the front door when she felt her Boss' hand around her left wrist.
"Wait."
Bo stopped in tracks and looked down on that hand around her jacket-covered arm.
"Please, …Miss Dennis?"
Please, Miss Dennis? The heck? How dare that woman playing that card now when Bo had already planned her very own winner-party in her head? With milk and toast and that chocolate bar she kept in her fridge for special occasions.
She wasn't prepared for that pleading tone in the blonde's voice. Neither to hear her real name anytime soon coming from those lips again.
Delicious lips indeed.
Don't go there Bo! You randy old devil!
When she turned back around she also wasn't prepared for that look in the blonde's eyes. She seemed desperate. The coldness was gone and replaced by something sincerer.
"What do you want, if not my money? What else can I offer?"
The blonde was still holding Bo's arm. Her eyes seemed to search for answers all over Bo's face.
"First of all, a towel would have been nice, but now that I already marked my space on the couch I guess we can skip that."
A joke. Usually a joke was made to loosen the tension. But as it turned out sometimes it could make it even more awkward. Stand-up comedy wasn't one of Bo's strong points it seemed.
A sigh left the brunette and with a swift move she stretched her arm, grabbed the blonde's hand that was still holding her wrist.
"Listen."
Bo unpacked her most empathetic voice.
"You were drunk yesterday and I happened to be at the same place at the same time. I could have walked away but I didn't and now we're here. End of story."
The blonde hissed and draw her hand out of Bo's hold. She looked at the ceiling when she spoke up.
"I learned very early in my life that trust is a joy that comes with a high price. Trust is unpredictable. You can't control trust."
Her voice was meant to be calm and controlled but came out a bit shaky in the end.
"As well as the weather forecast and still people choose their clothes depending on that."
The blonde looked back at the driver.
"You have no idea what you're talking about."
"Well then, enlighten me."
With a sigh, her Boss turned around and walked deeper into the room until she stopped next to the piano.
"I'm in a position where I cannot be seen like I was yesterday. I don't even know what made me go that far. I barely go out unless it's business related…"
"Yeah and we know those are fun."
Bo had to think about that Harry Gremlin. Gosh she hated that lecher. Shaking her head, the brunette walked towards her Boss.
"You need to understand that my father is a very powerful man and any kind of miss-step, every failure has to be paid. I'm his only child. I'm the future face of his company. He already planned the rest of my life and there's absolutely no space for misbehavior."
They locked eyes and Bo could tell the blonde wasn't joking.
"This here…"
She pointed around.
"This apartment is the only place I can be the person I want to be."
"I see."
Bo took the blonde's hand back in her own. She tightened her grip when she spoke.
"Maybe it's unusual for you but I don't want to be paid to do the right thing. I won't deny that I really, really could use that money, but not like that."
Bo felt a strong pull inside of her that drew her closer to that woman in front of her. She stepped further into the personal space of her Boss.
"You asked me what you could offer."
The blonde stared back at Bo and nodded. The brunette was sure that this energy that she felt, that electricity between them, was written all over the other woman's face. Bo could read. She was an amazing decipherer and she was certain that the blonde could feel it.
The spell.
"Remember my name."
"Excuse me?"
Her Boss looked confused.
"When we first met you said you would call me Driver, 'cause people come and go. So, if there was anything contract-like to make me keep that secret it would be that you remember my name and use it."
The brunette tried her best to stay focused. She needed that job and that person in front of her, was her Boss. Her very, very attractive, great smelling, soft skinned Boss.
So, she closed her eyes, took another breathe of that sweet scent of what was Lauren Lewis and stepped back. Bo let go of her Boss and stretched her hand out for the blonde to shake.
"So, is that a deal?"
The blonde looked down on the offered hand and back up to meet a pair of waiting eyes. With a soft smile on her lips Lauren Lewis mirrored the gesture and sealed the deal.
"Alright, Miss Dennis."
Bo flinched.
"Miss Dennis is my mother."
Actually it was ‚Misses' but that's just semantics.
Her Boss laughed quietly.
"That's all you get. I'm still your Boss."
"Very well… I take what I can get. There's just one thing…"
Still shaking hands, Bo couldn't stop but wonder.
"You didn't drive here this morning I hope. After last night, you were in no condition to drive. Please tell me you didn't drive."
"I actually haven't driven a car ever since I got my driver's license anymore. It's just not what a business woman like my father wanted me to be does. So, no, I didn't. I called for my concierge."
"Bob?"
Her Boss shrugged.
"If that's his name."
"He has been working for your family for ages now."
Bo stopped shaking and let go of the blonde's hand. In the end, she was that person again. That person that got under her skin. And this time it was not attraction or her hormones longing for something sparkly.
"Anyway, I let him drive me back home."
Bo nodded. There was an uneasiness that filled the silence and Bo knew the time was right to make an easy exit.
"Well, okay, Miss Lewis. If you gave me the keys back then, I could leave you to…"
Bo looked around and shrugged.
"...whatever it is you do."
"The key is downstairs at the reception."
"All right."
Bo felt anything but easy right now. She walked backwards, hoping her body would find the way to the door without knocking down anything of fortune.
She just rejected a shitload of monetos and she just couldn't afford having to get a loan to pay some broken porcelain. With a thud, she found that wooden barrier that would release her from that thick aired room.
"Miss Lewis."
She opened the door.
"Miss Dennis."
She closed the door behind her.
What a day. What a frick-frack of a day. She couldn't wait to tell Bane.