Chapter 10: Making the Call

Next Tuesday

I stared at the cardboard mess in my new living room. Feeling a tightness in my chest, I rubbed my sternum. Impatiently I waited for the moment I would feel relief from moving out, but it was hard to do when I watched my life fill a new space in containers. Why didn't starting over feel good? Maybe it had something to do with my lack of sleep. I'd been restless for the last week and at work, I became accustomed to walking in wearing a defense I had hoped to leave buried with my old employers. No, everything felt the same. Even when I was moving forward with my life, and things literally moved around me, I felt the fucking same. That's not true.

I lost my boyfriend and my friend. Things were not the same, and now that I lived by myself, I couldn't deny the chill I got from the empty spaces inside of me. What I perceived as sameness felt a lot darker.

My head ached, and I needed my stomach had yet to stop growling after having a cup of coffee hours ago. I was starving, and I frowned because such a menial task like feeding myself reminded me of that asshole who dared to interfere with my personal life. Him daring to tell me I didn't know how to take care of myself was the straw on the camel's back.

I felt the headache worsening as I thought about him. But then I refused to give him credit for that. It was more than likely the lack of food or the fact that Cinna Buns hollered incessantly in her crate. I felt bad, but she had to stay in for her own safety.

"Ms. Young, where do you want us to put the desk?"

"Over there. I'll just move it later."

"Are you sure? We can just move it where you want it now,"

I thought about it. When would I want to move this desk later? Never.

Pointing to the right of the room, he nodded and left my rolling chair outside the door. Lucio and his two brothers were a godsend for this moving day. My original moving company made a mistake in scheduling, and I had yet to hear any quotes from two other companies in time. When I went to the online markets, Lucio had four-and-a-half stars, great reviews, and was prompt in communication. We began the day at 8 AM and now it was close to noon. Right around noon, I thanked and shook hands with Lucio and his brothers and paid them in cash with generous tips.

Finally, I released Cinna Buns in the bathroom with her litter box. I sat on the closed toilet and watched her explore the bathtub before steering her away from exploring dangerous corners throughout the packed apartment.

I sat down on the hardwood floor and looked around. This was it. This was our new home, but I didn't want to touch anything despite being unable to stand the clutter. I wiped under my eyes with the cuff of my t-shirt before looking up to the ceiling. Is someone hammering or dribbling a bowling ball?!

"Ada. Look on the bright side," I coached. "You moved out, can afford to live on your own, you don't have to hear Greta have bad sex with her potentials, and I get to come home to just my cat and walk around my apartment naked... after I get some damn blinds."

I approached the window and looked out to see the ceiling of a shorter building in front of me before the street to the right. The view wasn't that bad, in fact, it probably looked incredible at night.

Hearing a buzz from in my kitchen, I hurried to see who was calling. I was expecting a call from my mom or another close friend who promised to call after she saw I posted on social media for the first time in months. Posting online, so soon, was probably a bad idea. I would have to explain why I'm living solo which would lead to explaining the fuckery in my life that did not match my smiling selfie online.

I checked the number, and just like that, my little high disappeared. I didn't recognize the number but seeing the area code match the handful of digits belonging to the state, I had to answer it if it was someone from Lucio's team or from the apartment complex. It better not be no damn telemarketer or robot. I will scream at both.

I cleared my throat to do a little code switch. "Hello?"

"Ms. Young?"

My eyes narrowed before I scoffed, "Mr. Leoné. Wow. Um, yes?"

"This call is to check up on you and–"

"No, I did not use Christian's Moving and Storage Service."

"I'm well aware of that as my account wasn't charged."

I stuck my neck out. "W-what? 'Account wasn't charged'?"

Did he mean to tell me he also intended to pay for the service? No way. You know what, he was a smart businessman. He surely figured out some loophole to make it so he could charge an employee moving as a business expense.

Nah, I don't think that's possible girl.

Despite what I said, he thought, I would be weak enough to give in. Or maybe he felt I wasn't financially stable enough. No, he believed this. He said this to my face. Why on earth does this man treat me like a goddamned child? I hated it!

"Anyway, it has been over a week since our last... conversation and I do believe it is important for me to stay abreast of my employees."

I grinned. 'Conversation', he called it. "I'm not on the clock right now, so..."

"So shall we expect you back in the office on Thursday or do you need to take that Friday as well?"

"Thursday." I needed the hours.

"Okay. Good luck with your moving ventures and I uh... that's all. We'll see you in the office Thursday morning," he said, tapering off in volume.

"Okay, see you then, Mr. Leoné." I hung up.

What was the point of that call? I was good about updating my calendar whenever there was a shift in my schedule. Again, he was being a controlling asshole who needed to force a chat from someone who isn't kissing his ass.

The next day, I forced air out my mouth after climbing the last step to The Tower. Once again, I ran on empty. I had to stop going to bed so late with my anxious thoughts. Three hours of sleep wasn't enough, but had I been feckless about my sleeping schedule. Every time I was confident I would go to bed before midnight, I was up until 3 AM.

Randomly, I felt a bit of gravel fall into the side of my heel. With my bags, I carefully carved it out before approaching the entrance. The transparency of glass obviously lets us see through into the other side, but what I didn't like was when it revealed the reflection of a familiar man catching up to you. I'm not even inside yet!

My left nostril twitched after I wrinkled my mouth. I grabbed the handle to a door, switched my head around, and greeted brightly, "Good morning, Mr. Leoné."

"Good morning, Ms. Young," he answered with an arched brow.

He wouldn't move, and neither would I. Holding onto my warm expression, I asked, "Is there anything wrong?"

His attention shifted from my hand, holding the door, to my face. He gestured that I go ahead, but I mirrored him and widened my smile. "Oh no, you go ahead."

I heard the growl in his throat before he mumbled, "Ada, please go through the door."

"Okay," I said, immediately grinning the second I turned away. I knew something as simple as holding the door would bother him. For some reason, it felt like instinct to troll him even for a little bit. There were only about five months left of my contract anyway. Naturally, it would be harder to leave Chris, Renee, and DeShawn behind but this mad man wouldn't dare to be an afterthought on the same level.

The machismo types were the easiest to read. Therefore, I was already prepared for what was next. He would ask me how I'm doing or how moving went, I'd keep it short and sweet before he asked if I had any help again, I'd tell him 'no' just to see him be bothered by my independent ass. Then because he can't stand how weird I am to him–the irony– he might bark at me for something that comes off as weirdly caring. Yell at me... I dare you.

I'd been so angry for reasons I couldn't always identify, so I would be happy if he gave me any cause to yell at him. We weren't alone in our ascent, but I rubbed my hands together internally after he began, "How are you, Ms. Young?"

"Fine." Bring it!

A few stops up, and he and I were alone for the remainder of the ride. While pretending to read a spam email on my phone. I shot him a fleeting glance. Why did he have to be good-looking? And why did I have to develop a weakness for a man in a suit? And he stood there facing the door... like a goddamned maniac. Okay, sis, that's a little bit of a reach.

The silence was unnerving, as I watched the numbers climb on the console. He didn't ask the next question on my list. Was he leaving me alone for a change?

"Ada, may I offer you a proposition?" He didn't turn when he addressed me.

Nope, he wasn't leaving me alone.

I charged up and shot back, "I meant what I said when I said it."

He almost faced me, but he quickly caught himself. "It's not pertaining to your employment."

But my plan! I looked around and slid my phone away. "Okay?"

"May I ask what is your availability?"

My lips parted and I felt all but my shifting eyes freeze. Wait a minute! Think fast girl!

"Um," I started curiously. "For?"

"Lunch."

Knowing his contrived self wouldn't fail me, I smiled for a moment, seeing little Adas doing the Alf dance around my head. Boy, you thought!

I answered calmly but firmly, "Since I've been out for a few days, I think I'll have too many tasks to catch up on so–"

"I meant this weekend or the following." He turned, finally, to see me and my long blink.

"I'm sorry?"

"Lunch," he repeated.

Where is the perpetual scowl you wear, sir?! Ooh, he gets on my nerves! He can't even be predictable long enough!

My eyes fluttered in panic. Now, I saw the little Adas running around launching Molotov cocktails and flamethrowers around the stacks of foreseeable actions I collected about him. The answer flew out of my mouth before I really unpacked what he said. "Sure."

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Is Ada rightfully mad about what he did with the movers?

Would you want to go to lunch on a weekend with Mr. Leoné? What do you think is his MO (mission objective) with this proposition?

Chapter 11 Releases - TBD (I have to finish the manuscript (rewrite) for "The Mute Mistress" >:) I'm almost done and this chapter will be up before 4/10)