Page 31 of Corporate Escapades

“I spent all of my leftover money. It’s completely gone.”

“Well, return something,” he demanded.

“I can’t,” she replied. “Non-returnable.”

“Paris, what sort of store are you shopping at that you can’t return items to?”

“Not a store,” she sighed. “An auction.”

“Oh, man,” he said as he dropped the food on the coffee table. “When I said buy something, I thought maybe a cute shirt, or a new purse, not a bunch of random auction items. Where’s your restraint?”

“I have none!” she cried. “I didn’t think I’d actually win the bids.”

“I can’t bail you out,” stated Jack. “Our parents made it clear that no one, except Vic, is allowed to give you money. I also have to tell Mya and Chase about this.”

“What? No! You can’t!”

“I have to. I don’t have a choice,” he replied. “I’ve been instructed and threatened basically that if I don’t report to them, I’ll end up in the same situation as you and Vic.”

“This would have been helpful information before you followed me home!” hollered Paris as she threw her unopened burrito at him.

“Hey, watch it,” he replied. “I know you’re feeling vulnerable, so I’ll let it slide this once, but if you ever throw anything at me again, I’ll report that as well.” Grabbing his bag of food along with the burrito Paris had thrown at him, he stormed out of her apartment. Rushing after him, Paris slammed the door in his wake.

Vic had only been home for fifteen minutes. Long enough to tear off his clothing down to his generic boxers and pour himself some Scotch, when he heard the commotion from next door. He really didn’t want to deal with it, but the noises and the voiceshad piqued his curiosity. It sounded like his younger brother and Paris arguing.

With resolve, he pulled on his sweatpants and proceeded to drag himself over to Paris’s. She answered the door, but only after he yelled for her to, “Open up!”

“What do you want?” she hissed through her tears.

“I heard yelling, as well as about your incident today, and I thought I’d check to see if you were okay.”

“I’m fine,” she replied. She wasn’t fine, but she didn’t want to deal with Vic.

“Did I hear Jack?” he asked. “There’s a beer bottle on your table, and he’s the only person I know that drinks that crappy brand.”

Paris turned to look at the telltale bottle she’d left sitting out. “Yes, Jack was here, but only because he’s the reason I fell off the ladder. He demanded I allow him to accompany me home and stay with me until he felt I would be okay. I tried to say no, but he’s very persistent,” she complained.

“You aren’t dating him, are you?” asked Vic as he eyed her suspiciously.

“Why are you so paranoid?” asked Paris. “No, I’m not dating him, but what if I wanted to? Is that so wrong?”

“Yes. He’s my innocent little brother,” replied Vic through gritted teeth. “And you’re a hungry harpy who tears men apart.”

“A harpy? Really, Vic? That’s what you liken me to?” Paris’s chest ached at his comment. He could be so mean, and she couldn’t believe he thought so low of her. She rarely dated, and she didn’t sleep around. “How can you say that?”

“I’ve seen how you work. I just know it’s true. Besides, you’re into things I don’t want my little brother to be a part of,” he added.

“Like what?” she demanded.

“Drugs, for starters. Oh, and stealing,” he said as he pointed a finger at her.

“Don’t point your finger at me, buddy,” her voice had raised an octave. “And for the record, I may have tried a couple of things, but I’m done with that.”

“Stealing, or drugs?” he asked.

“Obviously, I’m referring to the drugs. I haven't touched a single pill since Mya ground them in my disposal.”

“Oh, so you’re not done with stealing?” he asked.

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