"Let me see the picture again," Shane muttered, waving his hand in front of Lorraine's face.
"Back off, Malcolm. I know she's pretty and all," Lorraine laughed, enjoying moments like this one. It was nice to see Shane worked up about stuff at work that wasn't business related. The man was annoyingly serious at work.
Shane kept on pacing, ignoring her reply. "I know that face, and the name."
"I didn't tell her it was you though. Don't want a crazed fan now, do we?" She laughed.
He ignored her again. "You know the funniest thing?" He stood in front of her, hands buried deep into his pockets.
"What?" She asked, biting her lip and hoping she hadn't messed up.
"I know that face from somewhere. When I was growing up maybe. Then the name, it's nagging at me. But I know it's recent," he snapped his fingers.
"Alright, alright. You want to meet her?"
"Yeah. Sure," he watched her pick up her laptop and then walk out, closing the door gently.
He knew the face and name was familiar.
He wondered if it was someone he had hooked up with at some time. It would be very awkward asking a hooker to marry him. Since they were the only people he slept with after Ava.
Ava.
The name held sweet and bitter memories for him.
Time had dulled the pain a little, but his heart still hurt from thinking about her. He rubbed his chest, trying to soothe the tightness growing there.
He kept seeing her in his mind, no matter how much he tried to forget her various features of hers kept popping up in his head. Her dark, long hair that had wrapped around him when they were in bed together, the hair he usually wrapped around his fingers as he fucked her from behind. It was the same hair that wrapped around Lucas's hands when he had caught them together.
He fisted his hands in his hair.
Forget.
Just forget her, his mind begged.
Maybe it was time to remember. He had never really dealt with her betrayal. Five years with him pushing it to the back of his mind was catching up to him.
He picked up a shot glass, and poured himself whiskey from the mini bar in his office. He drank the shot in one swallow, blinking back tears.
He laughed hysterically as he immediately wiped his eyes.
He remembered. Ava kneeling and crawling after him, all attempts to ask him for forgiveness. He remembered her trying to explain herself, saying it wasn't what he thought. As if seeing her heavy breasts bouncing as Luca fucked her from behind could mean anything else. He remembered yelling and throwing things, wanting to be anywhere but where she was. He'd acted like a bloody child, breaking things and trashing their apartment till she had cowered in fear.
He also remembered her taunting him that Luca was a better lover than him weeks after he'd stopped picking up her calls. She had left a string of annoying voicemails and he had promptly deleted them after the first one where she kept talking about how Luca treated her better. He blocked her number immediately after, it had taken a while to get over his bruised ego.
He remembered her laughing, saying she could play the field as well when she'd visited his office after he had blocked her.
He remembered her walking away after that and how he'd pathetically ran after her, ready to take her back. He had been ready to forget she had slept with the only person he had ever hated.
He looked down at his hand, wanting to drop his glass on the table before he ended up flinging it at the wall like he was tempted to. However, the glass was already in pieces, he had crushed it in his palm.
His palm was bleeding. He watched the dark liquid flow from one of the deeper cuts, pooling in his cupped palm.
He sighed, Lorraine would have a fit cleaning up this mess.
His door opened.
"She's here. Surprise surprise," she laughed. Lorraine was always cheerful.
"Give me a minute," he muttered, turning away from her.
"What in God's name did you do?" Her eyes widened in horror.
"I'm sorry. I was thinking about Ava. I don't know," he muttered calmly, gently picking a few pieces of glass from his hand and watched as the bleeding increased.
"Oh God! Go clean up," she groaned, waving her hand in the direction of his private bathroom.
He walked towards the bathroom while she cleaned up the mess he'd made.
* * *
Jocelyn fisted her hands and tucked them in her pocket. Her palms were a sweaty mess. She had called Lorraine after Mallory had fired her and the woman had directed her to this building. It was an office complex and she was currently in the tenth and top floor of the building.
S. MALCOLM had been on display in big, black letters above the building, so she knew Shane Malcolm probably owned the entire building. There were not many S. Malcolm's rich enough to have their names on the top of buildings, and she remembered reading about his interest in real estate.
She couldn't believe she was applying for a job as a stranger's wife.
Only last night she had planned to drop some of her lower paying job for the ones with higher pay, then she had been fired from her main source of income.
Okay, not fired entirely. Mallory had sugarcoated it a little bit.
Turned out she had taken more than the usual dosage of the sleeping pills which resulted in her being two hours late for work. She had almost called to report that she was sick, but that meant a day's pay would be deducted, especially as she hadn't made up for skipping work the other day. At this point, every fucking cent mattered to her.
She had hurried as much as she could to work, then proceeded to change into her work uniform. Mallory had chosen that exact moment to walk in. Jocelyn had hoped the woman wouldn't notice her late entry.
"No need to change, Jocelyn," she had smiled at her, shocking the girl. Jocelyn had been surprised that Mallory actually knew her name.
"I'm really sorry, Mallory. I promise to make it up..."
"Its okay. You can't work with us any longer," she cut Jocelyn off.
"But..."
"I watched the news about the orphanage, I know how you feel about it. But we don't want people we can't depend on working here. You took yesterday off, and left work early on Tuesday. This is just the beginning. Who knows what will happen when things becomes intense for you at home," she went on, ignoring Jocelyn's pleading. "Meet my secretary. She has your check ready. I paid you two months advance," Mallory had added then walked away.
Jocelyn had stood there, frozen. She had considered her remaining options. The library, gym and pizza shop couldn't pay her bills and support the orphanage.
She had dug out her phone then called Lorraine Henley.
Which was the reason why she was sitting in front of this office, sweating profusely.
Her only consolation was that she had enough to house the twenty four kids in an apartment for a month.
"Sorry for the wait, Ms Williams. Mr Malcolm will see you now," Lorraine Henley said, bringing Jocelyn's thoughts to a standstill. It couldn't possibly be the same Malcom. She hadn't even considered it might be Shane when she'd seen his name on the building, or even when the elevator had opened to MALCOLM ENTERPRISE written boldly on the wall behind the receptionist.
Ms Henley was impeccably dressed in a black form-fitting suit. She was very pretty, and had the figure of a runway model. Jocelyn looked down at her cheap jeans and T-shirt, it was not exactly what a future Mrs Malcolm would wear. She wondered why he didn't just marry his assistant, especially since her looks dulled compared to Lorraine's.
"Ms Williams? Are you okay?" Lorraine called out when she realized that Jocelyn hadn't followed her.
Jocelyn nodded her head, then stood up and hurried to catch up with her. "Wait, Is this Mr Malcolm by any means Shane Malcolm?"
Lorraine considered her for a few seconds, before she nodded. "Any problems with that?"
Jocelyn shook her head. Shane didn't even know her.
"Okay then. I wish you luck," she said, then stopped in front of a shut wooden door. She motioned for Jocelyn to go in then walked away.
Jocelyn knocked on the carved wooden door.
"Come on in," his voice wasn't slurred like last night. Instead it was a calm and steady baritone. She hoped he didn't remember her.
"Good morning, Mr Malcolm," she greeted walking inside and towards his desk.
The office was richly furnished. Dark walls and bright drapes, an interesting contrast. To his right was a top to floor length glass wall that showed an amazing few of the city below. Shane Malcolm had an interesting view. No wonder he made billions. The view was enough inspiration to work hard.
"Sit," his voice brooked no room for argument. He was probably used to giving orders and people following.
She sat, not wanting anything to cost her the job.
He finally looked at her face, he had been focused on the computer in front of him when she walked in. "Josie? Josie bear?" He asked, a smirk on his face.
Her face tinged with red, embarrassment eating at her, of course he remembered her. "Its Jocelyn," she corrected, looking at her hands that were folded in her lap.
"That's not what you said last night," his left eyebrow rose. "Let me save your time. You can't get the job," his gray eyes flashed in what she assumed was anger.
Jocelyn flinched.
No! She screamed in her mind.