Page 35 of Corporate Escapades

Vic debated hugging her but decided against it. He didn’t like Paris, and a hug would most likely be misconstrued. “Seriously,” he said, “you have to pull it together. Someone will be coming for us any moment. Do you really want them to see you cry?”

Paris looked at him, and the tears overflowed and ran down her cheeks. True to traditional Vic style, he was acting cold as ever. On cue, the door to the boardroom opened. Paris turned away, wiping the tears from her face. Luckily, the person retrieving them was Chase and not one of their family members.

“You may come back in,” said Chase as he motioned them toward the entrance.

Paris and Vic took their original seats and waited anxiously to hear what fate would hold in store for them.

“We’ve reviewed the week and made some decisions,” said Dom, as he ran his hand over his bald head. “You’ll be staying in Janitorial. Paris, we wish you a better week than last. It sounds like you’re lucky to be intact after the mishaps you suffered. Unfortunately, because of your financial indiscretions, we’ve decided that you and Vic will be moving to different housing.”

“We feel,” noted Jessamine, “that you’ll be more inclined to help one another succeed if you live in the same apartment.”

“No!” blurted Vic. “I can’t live with her!”

“Vic,” barked Dom, “you don’t have a choice. You’re to help each other succeed. That’s part of the deal. Right now, Paris is in trouble, and this is the best solution we could find. Contrary to your belief, we don’t enjoy treating you like children. Now show us what you’re made of so we can restore you to your rightful positions within the company.”

“Mya, Chase, please take the morning to help them move into their new places. We’ll call Janitorial to let them know their shifts will begin in the afternoon and extend into the evening.”

Paris winced at having to move in with Vic. While she knew living with him was a recipe for disaster, she kept her mouth shut because she also knew Jessamine was right. It was the only option at this point. She had thrown her rights away for a Chanel clutch and a new pair of Jimmy Choo stilettos. She had no one but herself to blame.

It only took an hour to gather their things from their current apartments and scoot on down the hall to their new combined home. It had been too much to hope that they’d escape the noise of the morning renovations. Vic assumed this was all part of their punishment, either that, or their parents were trying to hide them from the other residents.

The new place was larger, which was a relief to Paris. It had a large balcony with a table and chairs, as well as two reclining sun chairs. Decorated in shades of blue and green, it felt more tranquil than the last place. They each had their own bedroom, with closets incorporated. They would share a bathroom, but at least it was slightly larger and had built-in closet storage, a full-size shower, and a vanity with his and hers sinks.

The living room held a couch, loveseat, and one cozy overstuffed chair, all a cream-colored microfiber. They had a fireplace and a built-in bookcase with several books from all different genres. The television, mounted above the fireplace, appeared to be roughly forty inches. Not huge, but decent enough.

They even had a large kitchen with a breakfast bar and bistro table with chairs. This apartment had already been remodeled, which came as a surprise to both Paris and Vic.

“Not bad,” said Vic.

“This is an upgrade compared to the places we’ve lived previously,” commented Paris.

“Yeah, but we traded in our privacy,” he pointed out.

“You two need to look at it as a positive change,” stated Chase. “This doesn’t have to be a negative experience. Truthfully, I'm shocked they gave you one of the upgraded two-bedrooms since I know for a fact there are other apartments of the same size that have not been redone yet. They must have felt sorry for Paris and the week she’d had.”

“Honestly,” said Mya, “you’re lucky you weren’t further demoted in your jobs. Jessamine talked Mikel into moving you into this apartment together, over his intentions of forcing you to do community service and to request a loan to pay your rent at your previous apartments.”

“I’d choose this situation hands-down,” replied Vic. “Forced community service with a work-group would be highlyembarrassing for the company. I'm certain people would recognize us, which means it would only be a matter of time before it hit the newsstands.”

Paris said nothing. She was thankful that Jessamine had such a soft and kind heart. Her own mother, while loving, held no qualms about taking strict action.

“The only catch is that this apartment is slightly more expensive,” said Chase. “You now owe eleven hundred per month for rent, and as you know, Paris has no money to pay.”

“Yeah, I’m painfully aware of that. Paris, as a trade, you’ll do all the housework until you’re able to pay your portion of the rent and grocery bill. Sound like a deal?”

Paris sighed. “It would appear I have no choice.”

“No, you really don’t have a choice,” said Vic. “You’re not my wife or my girlfriend, so you’ve got to pay.” He added smugly. “As it is, I might have to see if Jack will spot me for the remainder of the month.”

The week progressed onward, and Paris and Vic tried to stay out of each other’s hair as much as possible, but Vic’s patience were wearing thin with Paris’s morning routine, and Paris was becoming quickly agitated with Vic’s evening routine. On top of it all, the remodeling noise continued at six in the morning, despite their requests to have it begin at a later time.

Each morning, it took Paris two hours to get ready. Vic would knock at the door and beg her to hurry up for fear they’d be late to work. She would refuse to let him in while she was doing her makeup and hair. In the evening, Vic would watch television until eleven-thirty each night, cutting into Paris’s ten o’clock bedtime. She frequently asked him to turn down the volume, tossing and turning as she tried to ignore the noise coming through from the other room. She tried earplugs, but they hurt her ears and only led to further discomfort and frustration. Withlittle sleep, she’d be abruptly jolted awake at six o’clock by the hammering and clanking up the hall.

On Tuesday, Paris discovered a leaking pipe in the eighth-floor ladies’ room. She was instructed to oversee the job and assist in any way necessary, which seemed easy enough. The plumber was fairly new and failed to recognize the compromised state of the pipe he was working on. As he tightened things up, the pipe broke loose, which caused water to spray out everywhere, soaking him and Paris. Screaming, Paris tried to escape the spray, but she tripped over the plumber’s tools and once again was propelled backward. She launched straight into an open stall and cracked her head on the rim of the toilet, which caused her to see stars.

“My goodness, you again?” asked Dr. Schuh. “What happened this time?”

She told the doctor what had happened and then requested to go home, but Dr. Schuh insisted on a CT scan to be sure she was okay after the previous week's incidents. The scan checked out, and she was sent on her way, with the familiar feeling of embarrassment. Dr. Schuh had been surprised that, in all of Paris's follies, she had only acquired one concussion. He proclaimed she must be one of the unluckiest or luckiest people he had ever treated. Paris was inclined to think it was the former, but was thankful she hadn’t suffered worse.

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