Company Ink by E.L. Lewis

t w e n t y – t w o

Quickly picking up the documents, I whip my head back and forth looking for the Lexus. I swear I parked it here! Am I going crazy? Oh shit! What if someone stole it? Panic begins to overtake my body as I dash back into the complex. Maybe Luther saw something.

"Luther!" I exclaim, my tone shaky and anxious. "Did you see a black SUV parked out front?"

Luther sighs. "Yes, I did. It got towed ten minutes ago."

"What?!" I shriek.

"Yes," he says calmly. "I called a tow truck."

My jaw drops. "You called it? Why did you do that? That's my boss's car!" Towed? It got fucking towed?! My purse is inside! My jacket! Oh, my fuck, I left my phone in there too! This is not happening!

"Oh, that was your car?" he asks, sucking in a breath. "I didn't know, I'm sorry. That parking spot is for drop-offs only." He tosses me a tight smile. "You should've read the sign."

I grind my teeth together. Breathe! Don't spaz. Fucking breathe! "Did I hurt you somehow?" I ask, shooting a glare at Luther.

The Devil's Spawn rolls his eyes. "No, Miss Carrington, I was simply doing my job."

I run a hand through my hair. "I need that car! All my stuff is inside! I don't even have my phone."

"Well, the impound lot is only a mile and a half away. You can walk there."

I point aggressively to my feet. "In these shoes?! You must be out of your damn mind!" Blake said he needed the files by 2 pm. It's already past 1:30 pm, what the fuck?! "Can I use your phone to call my office?"

Luther hands me the telephone. "Be quick."

I begin to dial the area code and then remember I don't know the phone number off the top of my head. What is this day? "Umm...Luther?"

Satan's Child looks up from the computer. "What?"

"Can you please Google the number to Pearson & Associates?" I ask meekly.

Luther huffs. "Would you like me to smoke it for you too?"

I narrow my eyes. "Hah hah very funny!"

Luther types on the computer and then reads off the phone number as I punch it into the receiver. The line rings.

"Pearson & Associates, Matilda Bedford speaking. How may I direct your call?"

"Tilly!" I whine. "It's me, Cassie. Um...is Mr. Pearson available? I have a... situation."

"Cass?" she asks. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, it's nothing, I just need to talk to Mr. Pearson."

"Hold on, let me check his schedule." Tilly puts me on hold for a few seconds and I glare at Luther as anxiety-inducing plinky plonky music blares into my eardrum. "Hi, I'm back. So, it seems that Mr. Pearson is on a call right now. I can give him a message for you if you want."

I grunt. "Yeah, uh—can you just tell him I'm running late and I'll be back at the office in an hour?"

"Yeah, I can do that." She pauses. "Are you okay? You sound...weird."

"Oh, everything's great. I'll see you later, okay?" I squeal and hang up. "Here's your phone back, Luther." I turn my head and look outside. Are you freaking kidding me?! It's raining now?! I drop my head on the granite front desk and whimper.

"Here," Luther says, and I look up. He hands me an umbrella. "It's the least I can do."

"Oh, gee thanks." I give him a tight smile. "Where is this place again?"

Luther writes down the directions on a Post-It and passes it to me. "Have a nice day," he sings as I exit the complex.

"Fuck off," I mutter under my breath and open the umbrella. In order for the manila envelope to stay dry, I tuck it inside my blouse. Great, I have a rectangular chest now. Fantastic.

By the time I make it to Buster's Impound, my shoes are soaked completely through, creating suction sounds with every step, my pants are damp, and my hair is no longer straight.

"Hi, there—" I look at the attendant's name tag. "Noah." He looks like just a kid, shaggy unbrushed hair and crusties in the corner of his eyes. "I'm here to pick up a black Lexus SUV. It got towed here maybe like twenty minutes ago."

Noah scratches his head. "Uh—license plate number?"

Shit! "I don't know," I mutter, biting my lip. "It's my boss's car, not mine." I crane my neck trying to get a view of his computer, Noah tilts the screen away from me. Rude. "Can you just look up the latest cars that were impounded?"

"I guess I could do that," he replies lazily with a yawn, and begins typing away. I tap my nails on the counter waiting not so patiently. "Okay, yes. We have a black Lexus here. So—" He leans towards the screen. "That'll be $465.23."

My mouth drops. That's insane! Oh my God. "Fine! I just need you to bring me to the car so I can get my purse."

"Ooo—" Noah squints his eyes. "I'm not allowed to give you access to the vehicle until you pay the charge."

"Are you fucking with me right now?!" I exclaim. "How am I supposed to pay if I can't get my wallet from the car?!"

Noah takes a step away from the plexiglass counter, his expression almost scared. "I'm sorry ma'am but it's policy."

I clasp my fingers together and beg. "Please! Please! Please! It's right there! Come on, Noah!"

Noah shakes his head apologetically. "I can't, I'm sorry. I don't want to get fired. I need this job to pay for college."

My face falls. I feel bad for the kid. Taking a deep breath, I compose myself. "It's fine, Noah. I'll just come back I guess."

"I'm really sorry!" he calls out as I exit the lot. At least it's stopped raining which means the walk back to the office will be slightly more pleasant. Thankfully, the impound lot is only a twenty-minute walk from Pearson's & Associates. This entire afternoon feels like a fucking nightmare.

Stepping off the fifteenth floor, I make my way to Blake's office. I'll just give him the documents and go back and deal with his damn car. I am so defeated and pissed off right now. My feet are screaming, my nose is dripping, and I've sneezed seven times in the last half an hour. That can't be good.

"Blake?" I knock on his door.

His voice looms from inside. "Fine! But this is a mistake!"

I open the door slightly to catch him slamming the telephone receiver down aggressively, his furious eyes dart up at me. Shit!

"Where the hell have you been?!" he barks, standing up. "You were supposed to be back an hour ago. What happened?"

"I—uh…" I stammer. Fuck, he looks so pissed off. "Here." I hand him the manila folder.

Blake snatches it from my hands. "Why is this damp?!"

I chew the inside of my cheek. "Okay, here's the thing. So, I went to Mr. Wagner's and parked out front to quickly run up and get the documents, but then he asked me to stay for a coffee, and I couldn't just say no, you know? But then, when I got downstairs, your car was gone, Luther, that's the concierge, had it towed and it had all my stuff in it, like my phone and purse, so then I went to the impound lot and they wouldn't let me have access to the car unless I paid, which I couldn't do because my wallet was in the car, so then I walked all the way back to the office to give you the files—"

Blake's eyes darken. "You let my car get towed?!" He shakes his head in disbelief. "Thirty minutes, this entire thing should've taken you thirty goddamn minutes, Cassandra!"

I stand there frozen. I've never seen Blake so worked up before. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean for this to happen."

"Oh, of course, you didn't!" he fumes. "Such incompetence."

"I—I'm sorry..." Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

"Why did my car get towed?" he asks in a deep, strained tone.

I swallow. "Because I accidentally parked in a drop-off zone."

Blake closes his eyes, his jaw tensing. "Was there a sign?"

I look down at my feet. "Apparently but uh—I didn't see it."

Blake takes a deep breath, walking back to his desk. My knees go weak when he looks up at me with his cold eyes. "Go get my car. I don't care how you do it. Just...go!"

I bite my tongue in an attempt to prevent myself from crying. Why is he being such a dick? Maybe this is what Kitty and David were trying to warn me about. "Okay," I mumble and rush out of his office.

I keep running down the halls until I get to the staff room, tears escaping my eyes. I need some water. I am so overwhelmed right now. What the hell was that? It was an accident! I'm not incompetent...I'm not.

"Cassie!"

I turn around, a glass of cold tap water in hand. "What?" I sniffle, trying to blink away the tears.

"What's going on?" Adrian frowns when he scans my face. "Are you crying? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I mutter, wiping under my eyes. "I'm fine."

Adrian takes two strides towards me. "You don't look fine. What happened?"

I let out a frustrated sigh and explain my whole shitty afternoon to Adrian.

"So, the car is still at the lot?" he asks, a pained expression capturing his features.

I nod. "Yeah, I can't get it unless I pay first."

Adrian wipes a tear from my cheek. "Okay, let's go then."

"What?"

Adrian grabs the water out of my hand and puts it in the sink. "I'll drive you there and we can pay off the fee. Just please stop crying."

"Aren't you busy?" I ask, meeting his rich brown eyes. "I was going to ask Kitty to drive me."

"It's fine, Cassie," he says smiling. "I have time."

"Are you sure? You have a meeting with—"

"Yes, I'm sure. I'll reschedule it."

I'm not going to argue with him, I don't have the energy. "Okay," I murmur and then immediately sneeze. "I think I should change my shoes first."

Adrian's concerned gaze flitters down to my feet. "That's a good idea. I'll wait for you by the elevator, okay?"

"I'll be quick, I promise," I say as we leave the kitchen.

Adrian's fingers lightly graze my hand. "Take your time. I'm not going anywhere," he whispers before disappearing down the hallway.

I change into a pair of workout sneakers and pop an Advil. My head's starting to hurt, and my throat feels a little tickly. Great, I'm getting sick.

Adrian's leaning against the wall when I emerge from the office. "Nice shoes," he chuckles.

I scowl at him. "Not a fan of the runners/pencil skirt combo?"

Adrian shrugs, smirking. "Somehow you manage to pull it off."

I roll my eyes. "You're just saying that to cheer me up."

Adrian calls the elevator. "Is it working?" he asks, tilting his head, his suddenly bright eyes scanning my face.

"Yeah," I admit, grinning in spite of myself. "A little."

When we get to the impound lot, Adrian demands that Noah calls his direct manager so he can discuss their no-access until payment policy even though I told him on the drive it wasn't a big deal. Noah does as he's told without hesitation and passes Adrian the telephone. I smile sheepishly at Noah.

"Am I going to get fired?" Noah asks nervously, side-eyeing Adrian, who's standing several yards away from the booth and yelling into the receiver. "Your boyfriend doesn't look happy. I was just following protocol."

"You won't get fired..." I bite my lip. "And he's not my boyfriend. He's, my boss."

Noah's eyebrows knit together. "Whatever you say, ma'am."

Adrian walks back to the attendant and hands him back the phone. "Thank you, Noah," he says dryly then turns to me. "Car's all yours now, Cassie."

"I'll pay you back," I say as Noah exits the booth.

Adrian tilts his head. "You'll do no such thing."

"Are you su—" My question is cut off by a loud sneeze.

"Maybe you should go home after you drop the keys off," Adrian suggests.

I wipe my nose on my sleeve. Classy as ever. "Might be a good idea."

"Take care of yourself, okay?" Adrian gives my elbow a light squeeze and then heads back towards his own car.

"Boss, hey?" Noah asks from behind me, his voice laced with speculation. "Where do you work again?"

Oh my God, he probably thinks Adrian's my pimp or something.

"Just lead me to the car, Noah."