Chapter 5
"What the hell are you doing?" Jason asked, when he stepped into his office at the warehouse to find Elizabeth seated behind his desk and typing away feverishly on his computer.
"What?" she responded all too sweetly, hoping he wouldn't notice the pile of papers she'd been printing off for the past two hours, or that she'd gotten into the supply closet for paper clips and file folders.
He kept track of everything regarding his and Johnny's company, down to the last paperclip and tiniest coffee bean. She always told him it was ridiculous and a waste of time, but he told her someone had to keep an eye on things, and he liked doing it himself. Heaven forbid he hired himself an assistant or someone to spend time counting paperclips and coffee beans.
"This," he said, poking a finger against one of the many stacks of papers as he tossed several spiral-bound record books down on the desk.
"Don't," she hissed, reaching out to smack his hand when he started to pick one of the papers up. "I have a system going here, and if you mess it up, I'll-"
"You're in my office," he interrupted, folding his arms across his chest and looking down at her.
She rolled her eyes, annoyed that he actually thought the shame face he often gave his employees would work on her. "I know that," she murmured, frowning briefly at the screen, and wondering whether or not to actually believe what she was reading. "Your name's written on the door in that hideous font I told you I hated."
"Stop avoiding the subject," he pressed, shifting his eyes to the papers and shaking his head. "What the hell is this?"
"Research," she groaned, sighing heavily as she leaned back in his comfy, leather chair and stared up at him. "I know I'm using all your printer ink, but like I'm always telling you, you need to get thrifty with the office supplies. Write that shit off as a business expense."
"This is obviously personal," he muttered, ignoring her comments as he leaned over to read a magazine scan with the headline, Face of Deception Launches New Spring Line.
"Of course it is," she grumbled under her breath, mocking his know it all tone.
"Why aren't you using your own computer?" he asked, poking through the papers until she leaned over and smacked him on the hands.
"I got a virus again," she replied, letting out a heavy sigh. "I swear, I turn the damn laptop on, and it just explodes."
"Stop downloading garbage," he offered, an amused grin spreading across his lips.
"Well, it wouldn't be a problem if you still had that little computer geek hanging around here," she said, scooting closer to the desk as she started to stack her files together, mostly to keep him from looking at any of it. "Whatever happened to him anyway?"
"Moved to Canada or something, I think," he shrugged, frowning as he read another headline, Laura Spencer Announces Partnership With Couture Magazine. "This is the last time I'm asking. What are you doing? Now answer the question, or I'll call security."
"Are you threatening to throw me out?" she asked, placing her hands on her slender hips and glaring playfully at him across the desk.
It wasn't like it would be the first time. She was infamous for causing trouble in the warehouse, especially when she had dated several of the guys much to Johnny and Jason's disproval. They threatened the men, who always broke it off with her, and she'd come down to their office with fury in her eyes and pitch a fit. Hell, there was a time when she tried to piss him off just to see how much he could take before having her removed off the property.
"Cause if you are, make sure it's Ritchie," she said coyly, biting her lower lip as she grinned. "He likes to frisk me, and it's kind of fun."
"Elizabeth," he growled, sitting down on the edge of the desk and shaking his head.
"I already told you, it's research," she sighed, slamming the files onto each other and straightening them so that the edges were all lined up.
"On the Spencers?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.
"Maybe," she replied, throwing her hands up as she sat back down in his oversized leather chair. It made her feel small and inadequate, but at the same time something about it was very safe. "Lulu is so perfect all the fucking time, so I figured I'd do a little googling-"
"Goog-what?" he cut in, looking at her like she was insane.
"Google," she replied, brushing away one of the curls that had managed to slip out of the messy bun she'd twisted her hair into that morning. "It's a search engine. You type in something like a name, and it pulls up websites. How are you so computer inept when you have your own business?"
"Did you let the nerd frisk you too?" he asked, yawning as he leaned back in the chair and propped his legs and dirty motorcycle boots up on the desk.
"I wonder what is says if I Google Jason Morgan," she replied, narrowing her eyes at him. She turned at the screen, pretending to type and looked back at him. "Oh, big surprise. Google says you're an asshole."
"Elizabeth," he pressed, rubbing two fingers against his temple.
"Look, I hate the bitch," she said flatly, having no qualms at all at admitting how she felt. "And I figure that no one is that perfect. There has to be some skeleton in her closet. Like fat camp or something."
"Fat camp?" he asked, letting out a chuckle.
"Not funny," she replied, grimacing. "You remember how I was a little heavy when I was ten, and how Johnny always teased me, and you had-" She stopped, raising her hand to her mouth and swallowing hard.
"It's okay," he said, sitting up straight in his chair, which suddenly looked entirely too small for his wide frame.
She smiled meekly, still not sure how to respond. She thought that after all these years, she would stop reminding Jason of the past he was there for, but doesn't remember, yet she always slipped up from time to time.
It was difficult when Johnny had first gone away, and she found herself alone with him all the time. They were close, but not too close, and she tried hard to find some kind of common ground, only to end up reminding him that there was a part of her life he wasn't there for. Really, it was all so complicated, and she hated that she made it worse.
She'd gotten better at it over the last year, simply because she was less nervous around him or worried about upsetting him. Johnny was always the good friend, the one who made Jason comfortable and relaxed, and she made him tense, or at least that was how it always felt.
Ever since he woke up from his accident, she always felt that he looked at her differently than he did anyone else. At first she worried he thought she was crazy. What kind of woman sat at a man's beside and fought to stay his friend when he tried so hard to push her away because he couldn't remember her?
"Are you going to tell me about this research?" he asked, pulling her from her thoughts.
"Oh, yeah," she replied, forcing an apologetic smile at him, to which he shrugged, letting her know it was already forgotten. "Well, I just wanted to know about her. I mean, Johnny's been in town for nearly a week now, and he's told us nothing. Or at least he hasn't told me anything about her."
"Me either."
"Don't you think that's strange?" she asked, twirling the free curl around her finger as she spun the chair from side to side.
"It's Johnny."
"Which is not an excuse," she said, nibbling thoughtfully at her lower lip.
"Well, did you find anything?" he asked, a hint of curiosity in his eyes.
"The question is what didn't I find," she replied excitedly. Leaning forward, she held up each file as she went through them. "She's part of fashion dynasty. Her mother owns Face of Deception, which is the leading makeup company in the world. It's more popular than brands like Covergirl and Maybelline. Kate Howard is her Godmother, and she's the editor of Couture magazine, which is the best fashion publication out there."
"I see," he murmured, looking at her wryly.
"See what?"
He shrugged, shifting in his chair. "Nothing. You're just talking about makeup and fashion. I don't think I've ever heard you get so excited."
"I'm a girl, Morgan," she snorted, rolling her eyes, "with a really bad soft spot for stilettos."
"How could I forget?" he replied sarcastically, and she knew he was referring to the boxes and boxes of shoes he discovered she owned, when he helped her move into her new apartment a few months ago.
"Asshole," she said, laughing as she shook her head. "Anyway, it's just so weird. She's connected to all of these brilliant and powerful people, and she ended up finding someone like Johnny O'Brien."
"He's brilliant and powerful," he pointed out.
"Yeah, but he's Johnny," she said, as if that made some kind of difference. "He drinks. He curses like a sailor. He's slept with every single woman in a sixty mile radius."
"None of which he does anymore," he reminded her, and she just looked at him. He almost sounded annoyed that she was prying into Lulu's life, but Jason had to see that something just didn't add up. "What are you hoping to find? Or rather, what are you going to do with this information?"
"Like I said, I just wanted to find something bad," she replied, frowning at the stack of facts in front of her. "There's nothing. Like you would think there'd be an eating disorder or her getting a five finger discount of some kind, but instead the Spencers are like the perfect family. She's the poster child of purity, and I just…"
"Wanted to find something that would run her off," he offered, shaking his head disapprovingly.
"Maybe," she admitted, continuing to turn the chair from side to side. "Besides, I need to know what I'm up against if I want to take Princess Purity down."
"Princess Purity?" he snickered.
"I never said it was the most genius name, but then again, what kind of name is Lulu?" she spat, frowning as her eyes drifted towards the computer screen.
"Well, whatever kind of Webber scheme you're dreaming up," Jason muttered, getting up from the chair and walking around to the other side of the desk. "I want no part."
"I don't dream up schemes," she replied, leaning back in the chair and looking up at him. "I concoct, I put into action, and I conquer."
"Only because you have my help," he teased, grabbing the back of the chair to stop her from turning it. He leaned down so that his face was next to hers. "And I am not helping you run her out of town."
"I never said I was going to run her out of town," she replied, her mouth falling open as if the idea appalled her. "I just want to make her sweat, and let her know that O'Brien was once mine, and I'm not going to give him up that easily."
His jaw tightened briefly, and she knew he was thinking that Johnny was already gone, but she refused to let herself think so negatively. After all, if Lulu Spencer wanted to be a part of Johnny's life, she had to take on Elizabeth and Jason too.
"Do not make a mess I have to clean up," he pleaded, motioning for her to get up from the chair.
"I won't," she said firmly, getting up and grabbing her files. "But if I need your help-"
"No," he cut in, sitting down in the chair and waving her away.
"Oh, please," she replied, leaning against the edge of the desk, a silent refusal to be waved away. "You're my best friend, and I know you would pull through for me in a heartbeat."
"Don't give me that shit," he said, reaching for the record books. "I have real work to do."
"You hate her as much as I do."
"Do not," he replied flatly, flipping open one of the books.
"Aren't you the least bit sad that once he's married, you'll lose your partner in crime?" she asked seriously. "Think about it. No more nights of picking up women at the bar or trading rude gestures and watching boxing and all of that manly stuff."
"Elizabeth," he sighed, tilting his head towards her as he grinned. "You do all those things with me, so who needs Johnny?"
"That's not the point," she replied, rolling her eyes as she clutched the files to her chest. "You need a manly friend."
"I do?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. "Well, maybe you need a lady friend. I'm sure Lulu could-"
"Asshole," she interrupted, as he turned towards the computer. She glanced at the screen, realizing that the webpage she'd been looking at when first walked in was still up.
"Oh, let me get rid of that," she cried, throwing the files down and leaning across his lap as she reached for the mouse.
"Hiding your research?" he asked, snaking his arm around her waist to grab it before she did, as he tried to peek over her shoulder and see what she was hiding.
"No, this was personal," she replied, clutching the mouse as he tried to pull her away.
One of his hands gripped her waist, pulling her away from the desk as she clicked desperately around the screen. She squealed when the webpage changed seconds before he tugged her into his lap, forcing her to let go.
"Ha!" she said, giving him a satisfied grin.
He grunted, nodding at the computer as he laughed against her shoulder.
"What?" she asked, leaning forward and staring at the screen. "Oh, hell."
"Yeah," he replied, nodding as he continued to laugh. "How To Have Sex In An Office Chair? Personal research, huh?"
"Oh, you know that is not what I was looking at," she hissed, as he scooted them closer to the desk, reading softly to himself.
"Check the chair's bolts and screws," he muttered. "Who has time for that?"
She stiffened, shifting his in lap so she could look him in the face. "Wait. You've done that? In this office?"
He just looked at her.
"In this chair?" she cried, jumping out of the chair and giving him a disgusted face. "Morgan, you should have more tact."
"It's my office," he replied, glancing at the screen again. "And it's fun…You know this is pretty accurate, minus the whole checking the chair for stability thing….So, were you going to let Ritchie frisk you in my chair?"
"I wasn't looking at that," she hissed, clenching her fists against the files as she walked around to the other side of the desk.
"I'm surprise you and Jax never-"
"I'm surprise you actually let things get a little messy in here," she interrupted, gathering her purse and jacket from where she'd tossed them down on an end table by the door. "Who knew that Jason Morgan had time to play during the business day?"
"Oh, I always have time to play," he called after her, as she hurried out the door and slammed it behind her, briefly thinking she really needed more women in her life.