A/N: Part III / 1-900-Richonne

Rated R

RICK POV

After my lunch hour, the rest of the workday took a slight decline. Back at the office, the first thing I noticed was Carol, she looked visibly upset.

"He has no right to fire me!" Her voice held a slight tremble that echoed across the lobby. She sprung up from her seat and ran over to me from behind her desk. She stood right in front of me, preventing me from proceeding down the hall.

"Fire you?"

"That was not my fault!" She went on, calling Shane all types of 'assholes' and I was quickly able to deduce he was the reason for her annoyance. Now it was time to figure out why.

"Carol, you'll need to back up and tell me what is going on?" I asked firmly and maneuvered, so I could make my way down the hall.

"He never told me who could or couldn't come in, for all I knew, he called them over for a threesome."

"Called who…Carol, what the hell are you talking about?" I asked she was on the verge of tears at this point.

"Why are you still here?" Shane stormed out of his office yelling.

He closed the door behind him, but not before I got a glimpse of the destroyed room.

"I'm not going anywhere until I talk to Rick," Carol opposed.

"Hold on," I snapped at them both, "Let's go to my office and talk this out."

Carol huffed and nodded. Shane gave me a disapproving glare. I pushed past them both and went the rest of the way down the hall to my office. I was seated all of two seconds when the noise began again.

"I can't believe Carol let those crazy bitches' storm in on me like that." Shane's grating voice seeped into my ear, his tone was ridiculously high pitched when he was upset.

"Hey, man-whore, don't blame this shit on me," Carol leaned against my desk crossing her arms. She was facing Shane so I couldn't see her face, but I didn't have too, I knew she was starring hot daggers, just as I was, my gut was telling me that Shane is the one who screwed up the most, "stop trying to date all the models in Seattle and maybe you can get your work done on time." Carol said her voice was downright scary.

"I don't tell you how to do your job," Shane hissed back, "Oh that's right, a capuchin could do your job."

"That's enough!" I sneered at them both, knowing exactly what transpired, "Now it's my turn to talk."

I stand from my desk and move to the middle of the room, standing in between them, "So let me get this straight, Carol let two, 'vengeful vixens' finesse their way into the office while you were on a conference call with the shareholders." I huff in disbelief while shifting my gaze to Shane, "Instead of escorting your uninvited guest out, you get into a big clusterfuck with them. The shareholders got an earful, some hung up and are done with us for good. When the dust finally settles, you thought it would be a good idea to fire Carol."

Shane looked positively stunned, his mouth parted slightly, I turn my stern gaze to Carol, "Carol, you're certainly not fired, but you need to do a better job screening onsite guest. No one should be able to walk into our office off the street without an appointment. If they won't leave call security immediately, Understood…"

"Yes sir," She took a deep breath in relief and promptly made her way towards the door.

"The least you could do is apologize," Shane tittered just as Carol walked past him.

"I'm sorry Rick," Carol added a glare in my direction and strolled away.

"Rick," Shane began, and I sharply cut his ass off.

"Shane, how bad is this?"

"I was on a conference call with Chen, Marshall, Vogel, and Myers, all of a sudden those crazy bitches Andrea and Jessica storm in giving me an ultimatum."

"That's what the little mute button is for Walsh," I pointed my finger onto his chest to emphasize on my point.

"I had no time, as soon as I told those stupid whores to fuck off, they both started having hissy-fits, throwing shit at me, breaking shit; Carol took forever calling security, instead of pulling those rabid beavers off me, she sat at her desk eating a fucking tuna sandwich the entire time."

I held in a brief chuckle, picturing the spectacle. My amusement quickly faded. Shane is holding something back.

"You didn't answer my question, how bad is it?"

"I may be able to get Vogel back, the rest of them are on board." His tone was too nonchalant and it pissed me off.

"What do you mean you may be able to Vogel back?" I felt my blood pressure steady elevating, "You do realize Vogel was one of our biggest investors."

He gulped; his eyes focused on the vein rising on my forehead.

"Well, I got everyone back on the conference call, I presented the proposal, we discuss contribution numbers, profits and everyone was on board...Everyone except Vogel. He called me back and said he was offended by what he heard and started preaching to me about morals and scruples, and all that bullshit, not sure I can win him back…"

He shrugged and I about lost it.

"Win him back, we need his money," I whispered in a deep breath. I took a step back and distanced myself from him, the urge to punch him was tempting.

"He said I need Jesus and he wants me to go to church with him and his family." Shane let his eyes roll and he shrugged his shoulders again.

The image of Shane in a church was hilarious, but I was too pissed off at this point to even laugh on the inside, "Then go, get baptized, join the choir, get ordained, whatever it takes to win him back!"

Shane's eyes widen at my response, he knew that's what he had to do. He'd always be my friend, but this is his job and I expect him to deliver. Shane's commitment is unquestionable, He immediately called Mark Vogel on my office phone. I was impressed, he's going to go to drive to Tacoma and go to church with Mark, his wife Karen, and their twin boys.

Before I left the office, I got more bad news. My other business partner and district manager Spencer Monroe would be out for a week or so, his wife was in a terrible car accident while visiting her family in Portland, he'll be out of town for several weeks to be at her side. I gave him my best wishes and ordered flowers for his wife.

By the time I left the office, I was in full panic mode. Tomorrow is open-interviews for the latest store opening. Now, that Spencer is out, I'll have to spend my entire day tomorrow helping the General Manager interview people for the store that's scheduled to open in two weeks.

Luckily after that, things got a little better. My cousin, Aaron, stopped by, as he often does. Aaron Ross is related to me from my mother's side. Out of my five cousins, Aaron and I have the most in common, we're the same age, the only child and still single. He's lived in Seattle most of his life and is the reason I chose Seattle for my 'start over' place. As kids, we spent every Thanksgiving and Christmas together. He's also my silent business partner and investor.

Tonight, I'm hoping that he'll become my temporary district manager.

We had a few shots of our favorite whiskey and reminisced about the times we'd sneak shots of alcohol when our moms were in the kitchen talking and our dads were watching football in the den. Aaron is a reminder that not everything from my past was painful.

"I thought my hefty investment would prevent me from having to work." He chuckled and took another shot, "I was planning on just sitting back and reaping the benefits."

"Please Aaron, there's just not a lot of people I trust and know to conduct interviews. Shane is just too busy right now, but if you say no, he'll have to do it."

After a few more shots and several more pleads, I get my very reluctant cousin to agree to help me next week.

I was still on my own for tomorrow, it was just too short of notice. But at least I don't have to rely on Shane so heavily now.

The rest of the evening was spent watching some old home videos and we ended up falling asleep on the couch. I woke up a few hours later before I knew it, it was nearly 2 AM. I tried waking my cousin, but he was out. I covered him with an afghan and headed to my room.

I shut my door behind me and once I made it to my bedroom leaned against it, taking a few deep breaths. This time last night was spent talking to that heavenly angelic voice who calls herself Michelle. I'd promised her, I would call her back, and damn, I would love to do just that.

But I can't risk it, not with Aaron in the other room. So, I tried my best to go back to sleep. The moment I closed my eyes, the strangest image surfaced. It was a mixture of the woman I'd saw at Abe's and a young beauty I had a crush on years ago.

Back home from college for summer break, I snuck into my house a little after midnight. That way I'd avoid my parents just in case they're not getting along, which was often the case. I went upstairs and noticed the guest bathroom upstairs was being remodeled. I got inside my room and stripped down, grabbing a towel and headed to my bathroom. Flipping on the light, the first thing I saw was a pair of lacy white panties. I avert my gaze, something inside me jolted and I remember my mother telling me about Mrs. Anthony's daughter. I felt ashamed of being attracted to a 15-year-old. But I couldn't help it. She was gorgeous, mysteriously quiet, and quick-witted when spoken too, that always surprised me. Curiosity pulled me to the guest room nearest to my room. I never knew who's going to be there on any given weekend. The light was off, but the door was slightly cracked open. I was about to walk away as a faint noise coming from inside caught my attention.

"Rick…"

I froze as my name hit my ears. A sensual breathy moan caused my body to react. I placed my fingertips on the doors pressing lightly, I needed to confirm with my eyes what I thought I was hearing. The door moved slightly enough for me to see her on the bed, covers shoved to the side. The moonlight shone on her tiny half-naked form, she wore a little white tank top and another pair of those lacy white panties, just like the ones she left in my bathroom. Her legs were parted, one hand inside her underwear and the other teasing her hard nipple.

I froze, my heart stuttered at the sight; blood pumped to my cock and I became instantly hard.

"Rick…" she moaned. I watched her writhe and arch her body as she started to come.

It took a few moments but I snapped out of the visual wonder and rejoined reality. I jolted away from the door and quietly hurried back to my room. I let out a growl of frustration as soon as my door was shut, willing myself to forget what I had just seen.

An entire decade later and I still haven't forgotten.

MICHONNE POV

The rain bore down mercilessly upon the heart of the city, falling steadily without let up since I got home this afternoon. Something about this rain has me more relaxed than I've been in days and I'm in no hurry for the clouds to vanish. My shoulders relax and my mind quietens and I sink deeper into my chair, waiting for a call. I sit and listen to the rain grow heavier and more confident until I'm sure that this is the only thing I should be doing with the rest of the night. I sifted through my sketchpad, stopping on my picture of the Black-Eyes Susan flower. I peer at the inspiration sitting on the window-sill and the images come flooding in.

Memories are a gentle reminder of something passed. I slide over to the plant and take in the aroma. It brushes through the subconscious, recalling recollections that bring out the deepest spark of nostalgia of the soul. They say that the strongest link to sparking a memory is through one of the six senses - not sight, taste, or touch, not even sound, but -smell. My mom and I had a garden full of 'Black-Susan's' back in Atlanta. My beautiful, wise mother Audrey Hill married my father Marvin Anthony when she was 18, she had me at 21 and our family was happy for many years after that.

I'm not sure when or what lead my dad down the dark path of addiction, but I know first-hand what it does to families. I often wonder what my life would have been like if my mother had not worked herself to death for a man who constantly took advantage of her love and trust. I dismiss my rueful thoughts of my father, knowing that they only lead to self-pity and I'm beyond that. I've overcome so much and I don't plan on giving up until I've made something of myself. I flip through the pages and smile at the half-drawn picture of Rick.

"Rick," I said his name aloud and before I even realized it, the image of my childhood crush began to ebb and flow in my mind. I began to draw, filling in 'phone Rick's' hair with the soft loose curls of 'crush Rick'.

Richard Grimes was 20, too old for me back then, and even if we were the same age, we were from two different worlds. I was the daughter of the help and he was the son of a wealthy mogul. I can count on one hand how many times Rick and I briefly conversed. I'd be at his mansion on weekends and he'd be there on a break from college.

Despite the age and social class difference, I still wondered what it would be like to be with him. Rick's eyes seemed to bore into me every time he looked at me, he seemed to lose himself. That was the most unforgettable thing about him, those stunning, deep blue eyes. His cerulean gaze held truth that his face could not hide. Rick seldom smiled with his lips, but I could see a mischievous smile when he peered at me. I could also see the loneliness, longing, desire; there was something solemn swimming in his eyes.

A call beeped in, taking me away from my thoughts.

"This is Michelle, what's your fantasy?" It was a few minutes past midnight and this is my first call, a perfect indicator of a very slow night.

"Oh, hey there Michelle!" I recognized the voice, it was one of my regulars, 'DJ', I flipped through my book and found my sketch of him and we chatted. A few hours later I found myself fiddling with my headset, spinning my pencil between my fingers, just waiting.

"What am I doing?" I scoffed out loud while rubbing my tired eyes. It's after 2 AM and it's obvious Rick is not going to call. I feel silly waiting for him; I should have gone to bed an hour ago. So, I logged off and did just that.