Page 11 of Abel

After everything is safely tucked away in their rightful place, I roll my chair out, take a seat behind my desk, and pull out my planner.

Running through my schedule for tomorrow, I see what my day looks like. That’s what I have an assistant for, but I like to be prepared. I have a couple of newbies coming in, that should be fun.

Grabbing a pencil, inputting the necessary notes into specific dates, I barely notice when my door swings open.

Emily, my assistant, pops her head in, looking nervous as ever. “Excuse me, Abel, you have a walk-in.” She says, dropping her head low, avoiding eye contact.

I notice she does this quite often, especially when she has to tell me something she thinks will upset me. I can never reassure her enough that she’s not bothering me. “Em, it’s fine. How many times do I have to tell you that?” I say, pushing my chair back to stand. “I welcome anyone that comes in now or later. How long have we been working together?”

Pushing the door open a little wider, she stands tall. “I know, sir, it’s just, I don’t know… You kinda intimidate me.” My eyebrows squish together.

Intimidate her?

Good, she ought to be scared of me. She has no idea the type of man I really am outside of work.

“You should never let your guard down just because you think you know someone.” She’s still not looking at me, but shakes herhead yes. I’ve gone from confusion to being slightly annoyed. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I look at her and ask, “What really scares you about me, Emily?”

Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she finally looks up at me. “You’re a rather large man who could bench press me or kill me.” I smile because she isn’t wrong. “You walk around with a scowl on your face when you think no one is looking.” I do. “And you never talk to me besides work stuff.” We aren’t friends, why should we talk outside of work? “I don’t mean to sound like an insecure child, but I have no one. I was disowned by my family when I decided to run from an arranged marriage and make a life here in the US.”

“You’re not from the US?” Now, I feel like a piece of shit.

“No, I’m from Peru.”

“Huh. Well, Em, I’m so sorry for being such a shit boss to you. Maybe we can find a way for us to be friends as well as associates.” I say, truly meaning it. “Do you drink beer?” I blurt out before I can stop myself.

Dude, chicks don’t drink beer. I’m mentally slapping myself for that one.

Casting a look at her, I see she’s back to chewing on her bottom lip. I recognize it as a nervous gesture she does quite often around me.

She surprises me when she mumbles, “I do.”

“Great. You can come over to my bar this weekend. I’ll introduce you to the guys and we’ll go from there.” It looks like she wants to say yes at the same time she thinks she should say no.

I watch her at war with herself before she releases her lip as she says, “Sure, it could be fun.”

“Fucking-A it’ll be fun.” Shit, tone it down, Abel. “Great, sounds like a deal.”

“Solid.” She turns to leave, but I call her name. “Yes?”

“I want to know more about this arranged marriage, and who I have to kill for even suggesting something so ludicrous.”

Her face turns bright red, her soft brown eyes widen in fear. “Kill? You don’t mean that, do you, Abel?”

“I mean everything I say.” I wink at her as she scurries out of my office.

I try not to get involved in anyone else’s life, unless you’re a part of my crew, and I have my reasons. Just like Emily should be aware of her surroundings and not let her guard down because she thinks she knows someone, I do the same.

These are two different lines of work that I plan to continue doing until I no longer can.

A moment later, Emily comes back into my office with a worried look on her face.

“Is there something else, Emily?”

“I forgot to send the walk-in… In.” Shit, I forgot about that myself.

“Oh, right, send them in.”

The rest of the day comes and goes. Before Emily leaves, she pokes her head in my office. “Should I get the address from you now or-” She lets her words trail off. I realize we’ve never exchanged phone numbers. It’s not something I normally do, but my mama raised me right. I should have put workplace rules aside when it came to Emily, especially with the information she just shared with me.

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