The Executive's Secretary, page 15
“What the fuck is this shit?” I asked looking up.
“Reports,” Glenda said, staring at me.
“I’m not doing them.” I picked up my box and started walking away.
“It’s your job, just because you’re screwing the boss now doesn’t mean you get to stop doing your work.”
I put my box down, walked back to the stack of reports she’d dumped on my former desk, and narrowed my eyes at the woman.
“What I do and who I fuck is nobody’s business but my own. I’m not doing your fucking reports because I fucking quit this piece of shit job, you fucking bitch.” I picked up the stack of papers and threw them in the air. The flew scattered around the office, landing everywhere. “Have fun picking them up.”
“What are you doing with that?” Alyssa called after me, picking up the necklace.
“Give it back to the dick and tell him to shove up his no-good ass. I don’t want any of his shit.”
“What do I tell him if he looks for you?” she asked.
“The truth. That I fucking hate his guts, I hope he and his fiancée die in a fiery crash, and he can go suck a fucking dick.” As the elevator doors were closing I popped my head out. “Oh and that I fucking quit from his fucking company.”
The elevator ride down took forever. I was pretty sure word spread about my scene by time I reached the lobby. Everyone stared at me as I sashayed my way out.
My phone was ringing by time I reached the parking lot. My email blew up by time I turned on my car.
I turned my phone off.
I drove home with the lump of betrayal in my throat. Before turning onto my street, I made a pit stop at the state store to grab a few necessities to make it through the week. I pushed the little cart around the store, staring at bottle of wine and booze through tears. I swiped at my cheeks every now and then, cursing Bryce and his harlot under my breath. Hatred bubbled in my gut, and I couldn’t stand myself for letting another man get to me the way he had.
Once the cart was full I went to the check out prepared for the scrutiny of the old sales man.
“Having a party?” he asked, eyeing up the vast array of bottles.
“No,” I said flatly.
“Restocking the home shelves?”
“No,” I repeated.
He stared at me mid-swipe. “You alright?”
“No.”
He furrowed his brow and continued to swipe slowly. I hoped that was the end of his questioning. I didn’t need some old man I didn’t know delving into my personal life. I didn’t want to share my personal life. I just wanted my booze.
“Well that’s going to be one hundred and twenty dollars, please.”
I handed over my credit card anxious to get home and open up a bottle of Shiraz. I bought three.
My apartment seemed colder and horrible with all the reminders of Bryce lying around. I uncorked the wine, poured half of it into a big glass, forgoing the proper wine glass, and dumped my belonging on the couch.
“Time to be rid of Bryce O’Connell,” I muttered to myself. “I wonder how many other women went on week long benders while cleaning out whatever remained of him in their lives?”
Taking two big gulps, I turned on my stereo and began the feat of tossing Bryce out of my life.
Pounding on my door brought me out of my dancing around the living room. The wine rushed to my head and I didn’t care I lost a man I fell in love with. At least I didn’t care at the moment.
“What?” I shouted through the door.
“What the fuck, Piper!”
“Go away. I’m not talking to you. Tell Robert he can pick your sh-shit up in the morning.”
“Alyssa said you quit,” he shouted through my door.
“I did, you piece of shit. Go home to your whore. I mean fiancée.”
“Piper…”
“I’m done. Go away, Bryce, or I’m calling the cops,” I slurred at him.
“Are you drunk?” he asked.
“That is none of your concern. Go away.”
I threw my glass at the door. Shards rained down on the ground as the red liquid splattered everywhere.
“Christ, Piper.”
I sank to the floor in a ball, sobbing.
“I hate you. I hate what you’ve done too me.”
I fell asleep there in a drunk little ball. I don’t know when Bryce left or how long he stood outside my door, but I didn’t care. He was engaged and it wasn’t to me.
The bastard.
Chapter Twenty-six
I turned my phone on after two days. Every beep, ring, and buzz irritated me. I wanted to through it out my window. I hated the entire world. The world was a bad place.
Two weeks went by before I turned my phone back on. I had two hundred and two voice mails. Three hundred and fifty-one text messages. I checked my email a few hours later there were four hundred unread emails.
Most of those were from Bryce.
The Asshole: Piper?
The Asshole: Piper? Answer me!
The Asshole: You don’t understand. Please answer your phone. Let me explain.
I couldn’t read the rest. What was there to explain? What could he possibly have to tell me besides good-bye?
Alyssa: Piper, are you okay? Everyone is freaked out about your scene here!
Alyssa: Hey! Are you alive over there?
Alyssa: Come on. I’m really worried about you. Please call or text me.
I deleted the messages. I deleted the emails. I deleted the voicemails. All of them. From Bryce. From work. From everyone. I didn’t want to interact with people. I wanted to remain a hermit in my apartment for the rest of my life. Tossing back the rest of the wine in the bottle on my coffee table, I flipped on the T.V.
I huddled on the couch with a box of Kleenex and a takeout container.
Food poisoning with a side of red wine. Delicious.
My phone vibrated over and over again on the opposite side of the sofa. I glared at it, trying to will it to burst into flames.
I grabbed the box I’d finally finished packing and tossed in the passenger side of my car. The last time I’d ever drive over to his house. The tears brimmed once again. His driveway seemed to be a mile long. I paused at the entrance.
Just dump his shit here. Someone will pick it up. Or think it’s a bomb. What if she’s here? What if she comes out? Just leave it at the door.
I took a deep breath and drove up to the massive house. It sat quiet as it usually did. I figured I’d be able to do a dump and run. Grabbing the box, I dashed out of my car and threw it on his doorstep.
“Uh, excuse me? This isn’t a thrift shop. Take your crap with you.”
Fuck me.
“It belongs to Bryce. It’s all the shit he left at my apartment.”
“I’m sorry?” the whore asked.
“It’s all of his stuff he’s left at my apartment over the past few months. I don’t want his crap in my place. You two can decide what to do with it.”
“Your place? You’re his secretary though.”
“Was. Emphasis on the was,” I mumbled.
I got in my car and backed it down the drive.
“I’m not done with you!”
“I’m fucking done with you,” I shouted back.
I hate him. The tears started again. My stomach churned, and my heart wrenched. I couldn’t believe the audacity of that woman.
My phone rang again.
The Asshole
I silenced the ringer.
My apartment felt empty. Very empty. I cleaned up the glass that still lay on the floor and wiped up the sticky liquor. I sniffed and wiped my face on my sleeve.
The Asshole: Why didn’t you talk to me at the house?
I need to change my phone number.
I picked up the closest to go menu and ordered enough food to feed a family of ten, then opened the second bottle of Shiraz.
I tore off the suit, showered, and put on my wallowing clothes. The comfiest pair of sweats and t-shirt I owned. I sat on the couch in darkness waiting for my food.
The Asshole: You can’t ignore me forever.
Watch me. I thought bitterly.
My food arrived right before I decided to make a bad decision and text him back. I tried to fill the void that had opened in my life with Italian and reruns of Veronica Mars. That chick got me. She had as many man problems as I did.
I fell asleep again, this time with a lasagna noodle in my mouth and my empty wine glass in my hand.
I felt gross.
As my phone rang I just pushed it away. I needed to get my life together. I had enough of a pity party. I wasted weeks of my life over nothing.
What’s wrong with me? Why am I letting this man affect me so much? I am a complete train wreck over a guy who was never mine! Piper, get a hold of yourself!
“Alright, Piper. It’s time to get going. No more crying into pasta and booze.” I tossed the half-full containers in the fridge, closed up the remaining liquor, and hopped in the shower.
I stood in front of the mirror staring at my red rimmed eyes. I threw my hair up in a ponytail and left the bathroom. I didn’t care how I looked. I wanted to drive around today. I needed ideas. I couldn’t live on my savings forever, and I was done being somebody else’s assistant. It was time Piper Troy took charge of her life and did shit herself.
“Good morning, Piper.”
“Morning, Mr. Charles.” I waved to the security guard as I ran by.
“It’s a beautiful day out.”
“I hope so,” I said.
Sitting on the driver’s seat of my car was the sapphire and ruby necklace I’d left on the floor at Bryce’s office.
Now he’s breaking into my car? Okay so I need to change my number and I need a new car. Stalker much? I wonder how his bride-to-be feels about his infatuation with me?
I tossed the gems on the seat beside me. They meant nothing. A meaningless trinket from a man who meant nothing. I hated him so much.
I drove around Shadyside, Southside, Squirrel Hill, Oakland, and every other part of Pittsburgh I could trying to get myself inspired, but my mind was a cloudy mess. Nothing seemed right. Nothing fit.
The ding of my low gas started. “Shit.”
Stopping at an Exxon, I ran inside to grab a drink and pay. Sitting right next to the register was a tabloid with Bryce and the blonde bimbo splashed all over the front. The newspapers had the big news printed all over the front page. The biggest name in the city was going off the market and apparently the blonde bimbo was heiress to a few winery’s around the world along with a handful of restaurant, a few hotels and resorts, and one of Bryce’s take overs belonged to her father.
“What the fuck,” I muttered under my breath.
“Is that all, miss?” the guy behind the counter asked.
“Yeah.”
I tossed the tabloid back and stormed out of the gas station. I couldn’t get away from him. No matter what I did he was always going to be right there.
The city skyline was gorgeous. Even in the middle of the day. The warehouses of Station Square were packed, and they would fill back up after the day crowd left. The cogs in my brain turned and I had an idea. It was crazy, but it was something I’d wanted to do for a long time. I parked off to the side and walked around the long row of bars. A giant billboard at the end was my answer.
I pulled out my cellphone and dialed the number. “Hello? My name is Piper Troy. I’m calling regarding renting one of the warehouse spaces in Station Square. Yes, the old spot of Buckheads is what I’m looking at.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
I ran home and changed. Two hours before my appointment with the real estate guy.
“Alyssa? You’re never going to believe what I’m doing.”
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m going to open a bar.”
“You’re what?” she asked again.
“I’m opening a bar. I’m getting ready to go meet with the real estate agent now,” I said.
“Wow. You’re really not coming back.”
“I can’t. I gave him back all his shit. I want nothing to do with him. He really crushed me.”
“I figured since nobody has been able to get ahold of you all week,” she mumbled.
“I’ve been ignoring everyone pretty much.”
“I guessed that. She is a horrible person. She’s been in and out of his office for the past week.”
“Alyssa, I don’t care. He can be miserable with that horrendous wench.”
“Are you really over him?” she asked.
“Of course not. I wallowed in self-pity, I drank a few bottles of wine and some booze, I ate take out, but I won’t be over Bryce O’Connell for a long time. He’ll be the love I never had.” The tears pooled in the corners of my eyes once again. “Dammit.”
“Will you be okay?”
“Eventually. This is the first step. I just wanted to call and let you know about my big plan.”
“Good luck, Piper.”
“Thanks.”
I ran out the door for my appointment. For the first time in years I was excited about something. I stood in front of the empty building waiting. Who I saw approach me was not what I expected. He was tall, broad shouldered, and rocked the shit out of the grey suit he wore. His smile widened when he saw me, slack jawed and all.
“Piper Troy?”
“Yes. Scott McConnell?”
“That’s me. How about we get inside and buy you a nightclub?” he asked, unlocking the door.
“Sounds great.”
“Have you ever ran a restaurant or bar before?”
“No. I’ve worked under Bryce O’Connell for the past few months and have a degree in business. I should be alright. Plus I do plan on hiring experienced staff.”
“Good, good,” he said, leading me through the tacky entrance. “The space is enormous. You can do pretty much anything you want.”
“That I like. So I’d be able to knock down walls, build new bars, and whatever else I could think of?” I asked.
“Yeah. Whatever your imagination comes up with.”
“I see the potential here. Well I’m just going to jump in head first. Let’s get started shall we?”
He arched an eye brow at me. “Alright. This is probably the quickest I’ve ever gotten started with a sale.”
“I’m a determined woman.”
“A woman who knows what she wants is a very attractive attribute,” he said, pulling out a bunch of paperwork.
“I just realized I need to take care of me first and worry about everyone else later. Now this is what I want. I’m doing it. No looking back.”
Once he finished going over everything and I signed the initial papers, I handed him a check for everything in my savings. It was more than the asked for down payment.
“Would you like to get a drink to celebrate?” he asked.
“Oh. A drink? Um, sure. Why not?” My heart actually hurt. This man wasn’t him. He was good looking sure and successful, but he wasn’t the man I loved. What could a drink hurt though?
“Anywhere you prefer?”
“No. Gentleman’s choice.”
He grabbed my hand and led me out of my soon-to-be nightclub. His car was plush and comfortable. Scott tossed his briefcase in the backseat and offered the passenger side to me.
“After you?”
“How about I follow you?”
He shrugged his shoulders as I turned to my own BMW. The bar he took me to was rather upscale than what I normally went to, but it was a welcomed treat. We took an intimate table near the windows and ordered a few martinis while discussing the property.
After the second round Scott closed the folders.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“That’s enough shop talk for today. I think we’ve covered everything pretty well. The only left is to get a loan from the bank, which sounds like that will be no problem, and get things set up for you.”
“Okay?”
“Tell me about yourself. Are you married? Kids?” he asked.
“Not married and no kids. I’m about as single as they come right now,” I said.
“Oh? How is that possible? You’re beautiful, intelligent, financially stable, sane. You’re everything a man would want.”
“I’m recently single I should say. I thought I had found the man I’d spend the rest of my life with, but I suppose I was the only one taking the relationship seriously,” I replied.
“What happened?”
“He had a fiancée and didn’t tell me about it.”
“Oh. Wow.”
“Yeah, but a week of wine and take out helped a lot. I realized I just needed to move on and do something major with my life. This seems like a good idea.”
“This is definitely a major move and change. If you don’t mind me asking, what did you do before?”
“I worked for Bryce O’Connell.”
“The Bryce O’Connell?” he asked.
“Wealthiest bastard in the city. The one and only,” I muttered, throwing back the rest of my martini and motioning for the waitress.
“Isn’t he getting married?”
I closed my eyes slowly and looked out the window. “Yeah, he is.”
“I’m guessing you didn’t know.”
“The fiancée kind of sprouted from the depths of hell. Nobody knew about her until the circus started,” I grumbled.
“That’s rough.”
“Enough about me though. Tell me about you.”
“I was married briefly. It took us two years to realize we really weren’t meant for each other.”
“Two years?” I asked.
“Yeah. We tried to make it work. We went through counseling, tried different things in the bedroom, I even tried to change who I was for her; In the end though it just didn’t work out. She wasn’t happy. The marriage really ended when I found her in bed with another man. Our neighbor.” He shook his head and took a long swig of his martini.
“Guess I’m not the only one with a fucked up relationship.”
“Hardly.” He laughed bitterly.
My heart felt like a hand grabbed hold and squeezed it. Hard. Bryce walked past the bar with that horrible woman yanking him along.
“I have to go. I’ll stop at my bank tomorrow to get things started on the loan, please let me know when everything else is ready to proceed.” I grabbed my purse, tossed down a twenty dollar bill, and headed for the front door.
