Page 5 of The Shadow

“Hello, this is Aspen.”

My stomach drops when I hear Natalie, Mr. Blake’s new assistant, on the other end. “Hi, Aspen. Mr. Blake needs to speak with you. Can you step away from your desk for a brief moment and meet him in his office, please?”

“Um.” I chew my lip nervously, glancing at my ever growing inbox and the reports I still need to run before I leave for the day. “Are you sure it will be brief this time?” I’ve come to learn that Mr. Blake’s definition of brief is very different than most people’s definition.

“It’s not really a request, Aspen, but more of a demand.” Her tone is flat but I sense a tinge of sympathy. Even in the few short months since she’s been hired on, I know for a fact she’s already seen the real side of Connor Blake. It’s terrifying to see a man whom everyone else worships and loves snap and turn into a cold-blooded monster in the same breath that he’s praising you.

“Understood. I’ll be right up.” I hang up my phone and reach into my purse, grabbing the pills my psychiatrist prescribed me for the panic attacks I’ve been having. I stare at the bottle, my bony hand gripping it so tight the ridges of the cap dig into my flesh. I close my eyes, taking in a few deep breaths before deciding against taking one. The thought of being alone with him while under the influence of anything has my stomach in knots. I’ll never put myself in that position… again.

My anxiety manifests in tapping my fingers in a pattern against the flat front of my skirt, a fashion choice I’m now regretting. At least it’s long enough that when I sit down, it will still cover my knees.

I tug a stray strand of hair from my tight updo. Another nervous habit I’ve picked up lately. Maybe it’s because I usually wear my hair down. I love my hair, it’s my favorite feature about myself. It’s long and thick and it shines in any light. I love styling it in big, bouncy waves… loved styling it. I don’t have any interest anymore. The door dings and I pull myself from the dark corner of my mind that is full cobwebs I’m not ready to disturb.

“You can head right in.” Natalie offers a big, toothy grin framed by full red lips. “Mr. Blake is expecting you.” She looks like I did when I first started. Only, I don’t have that full of lips or nearly that large of breasts but I was her. Young and vibrant, ready to tackle my first real job and look damn cute while I was doing it.

I push open his office door. “You wanted to see me, Mr. Bla—oh…” I pause as he slides his suit coat on and grabs his cell phone before walking straight toward me. “I thought you were expecting me?”

“I am.” He flashes me that charming grin, that same I once believed meant something. “Walk with me.” He places his hand at the small of my back, something he did much more often when I worked with him. My body tenses and I want to slide away from him but his fingers almost dig into my waist as he ushers me into an empty elevator car.

“Is everything okay?”

“Of course.” He leans against the wall opposite me as he stares at my body. “What’s with your clothes lately?” He pushes away from the wall and steps toward me, his hands sliding on either side of my waist.

“Mr. Blake,” I gasp and push against his hands but it’s no use.

“You have such a tasty little figure, Aspen.” He steps closer until he’s pinned me against the wall behind me. “What happened to when you used to show it off for me?” He leans in, his lips at my ear. “Hmm?”

I’m paralyzed with fear and completely disarmed. I let out a nervous laugh as I slowly remove myself from his embrace. “I’m actually getting over the flu.” I touch my stomach and his face curls in disgust.

“Gross. Anyway,” he launches into his speech, not bothering to ask how I’m doing or why I’m at work if I’m still sick. “As you know, my bitch of an ex-wife is attempting to sue me for spousal support in our divorce.” He says it so casually as if I would actually have any idea what’s going on his private life. “And since the courts always side with females in this joke of a justice system, I know she’ll win.”

I attempt to hide the disgust that threatens to take over my expression. It’s bad enough I’m trapped working for a man who could destroy my entire life without lifting a finger, but now I’m trapped in an elevator, listening to him disparage his ex.

“I’m sorry.” I shrug. “I know that divorce is one of the most stressful things you can go through.”

“No kidding.” His hand is back against my body as he guides me through the lobby toward his waiting car. “But that’s where you come in, baby.” When we reach his waiting car, he gestures for me to climb into the open back seat.

“I—my things are back upstairs. I still have work to get done.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He winks, shoving me into the back seat and climbing in beside me as his driver slams the door.

“Sir, I’m sorry but I really do?—”

“Hey.” He reaches over and places his hand on my thigh that became exposed by my skirt riding up when he shoved me into the car. “I know the boss, I think you’ll be okay.” He pulls his cell from his pants and hits a button before holding it to his ear. “Natalie, yeah, go grab Miss Wilder’s things from her office and run them down to her. She’s outside with me.” He doesn’t bother with goodbye; he just hangs up and turns toward me. “Now, where were we?”

“I was just saying that I still have work to do at my desk so I really should get back to it.”

He doesn’t respond. He just stares at his hand that’s still on my thigh. “You know”—he slowly begins to drag one finger back and forth over my skin—“I still can’t get the taste of you off my lips.”

My stomach curdles and I glance into the rearview mirror, my eyes meeting Karl’s. I want to mouth help me but I know that he’s just a loyal lapdog who would happily do anything to please Mr. Blake, even if it meant getting rid of my body.

“I—I have a boyfriend now, Mr. Blake.” I croak the words out, his movements stilling. I half expect him to explode, to toss me onto the street and fire me… which might not be a bad thing, but I only have enough in my savings to cover about two months’ worth of rent. I definitely rented at the top of my budget, but it was the only way I could afford a doorman.

“That’s a shame.” He stares at his fingers as he slowly drags them up my thigh a little higher before pausing and looking up at me. “Karl, let’s take Miss Wilder home.”

He removes his hand from my body, but I’m still frozen as Karl pulls the car into traffic. Panic grips my chest. I’m not sure if I should tell him that I’ve moved or chance that he only plans to drop me on the sidewalk outside my old building. But I don’t have to ponder the question long because Karl makes a right turn, then an immediate left, letting me know that he’s, in fact, not going in the direction of my old apartment.

“What did you want to discuss with me, Mr. Blake?”

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