Page 15 of Damaged

“Thanks,” I mumble and turn before I say something stupid. Then I’m out of the conference room door and racing to take off this sweater. I don’t want to go to the bathroom. It’s just as hot there. I won’t be able to properly cool off before starting my shift.

I go to the delivery door again. It’s in a small garage that is already thirty degrees colder than the office. We’re not taking deliveries today, and I figure the piece James bought last night will remain in the gallery since he owns the building now, too.

There’s nothing here but tools and some sculptures that need restoring, currently covered in tarps.

I strip my sweater off.

I haveboobsweat. And I don’t have a lot of boob. It usually takes an August day of being stuck in the sun for that. I look over my shoulder at the door.

I doubt I’ll have company. Plus, I don’t care if Richard catches me. If he fires me for airing out my breasts, I’ll take it to the Supreme Court.

Where yes, I’ll lose. But whatever. I unlatch my bra, sling it like a black bat over a tarped sculpture, and sigh in relief.

I lift my breasts and then stretch my arms to the ceiling to let the cold air hit my pits. I stay like this until my nipples start to swell and point from the cold. When I get my first shiver, I reach for my sweater, but at the same time, the door handle behind me turns.

I don’t freeze. I dart into a crouch like a big stupid spider behind a wall of sheeted sculptures.

“Yes. Smooth as can be.” I hear a man’s voice.James’svoice. He’s talking on the phone.

I close my eyes.Fuck.

“I don’t think any of the employees will be a problem.”

I suddenly go from naked and afraid to curious. He wouldn’t have come back here if he didn’t want somewhere private for this call.

“Let’s give it a few weeks. Months, even,” says James. “We don’t want swift action raising any eyebrows. Let it correspond to the marketing push and my connections. It’ll be easy.”

James is quiet for a minute as the person on the other line talks. I can hear their voice like a faint static, but I can’t pick any words out of it. I lean closer to try to hear better.

I’m so close to making out what they’re saying.

I think the man on the phone just said something about trees. Or maybe it was the bees? I can’t see James from behind the sculptures. I close my eyes and put my ear out just a little more.

Then my eyes go wide. The sheet that’s hiding me is moving. I think for a fatal second that James is pulling it, but then I realize the sculpture I’m leaning against isfalling.

“No!” I say aloud. I dive and hug the statue. I can’t keep it from falling, too, but I can protect it from the concrete floor.

We both hit the ground with a dull thud, and I’m suddenly face-to-face with the shined black leather of James’s dress shoes.

“I’ll call you back,” he says calmly, like me falling out of the woodwork wasn’t completely unexpected.

I can’t bring myself to move. I’m naked from the waist up. My boobs are at least hidden, as they’re pressed into the sheet.

“A little privacy, please,” I finally manage to say. I look up at him. He looks even taller when I’m lying on the floor. Who woulda guessed?

His eyes travel the length of my bare torso briefly. I can feel my skin prickle where he rests his eyes. Eventually, after he’s gotten his look, he turns away.

“You’re the one snooping on me.”

“I come back here all the time. This is my chill spot,” I say like I’m a kid who found it first. I’m forgetting that James is now my boss’s boss. He’s the official owner. I can’t talk to him this way. But I can’t help it.

“So why are you naked?”

“Why are you still here?”

He bends and snatches my sweater from the floor. He hands it to me. “I’m genuinely curious.”

“It’s a million degrees in there if you haven’t noticed.”

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