Page 18 of The Fool

It’s almost comical, as well as a welcome relief when Sam leaps back sheepishly and begins scratching at the back of his neck. Conversely, I remain frozen solid on the spot, probably looking as though my father has just caught me with a boy in my room.

“Need I remind the both of you that office relationships are forbidden and will not be tolerated?! Now get your fucking hands off one another before I fire you both on the spot!”

“It’s not what it looks like, Mr Carter,” Sam says in a fluster. “We were just messing –"

“I don’t give a shit! You have no right to use a business trip as an excuse to fuck each other, do I make myself clear?”

The way he’s barking at us, together with everything else that’s come to pass over the last few days, causes something to snap inside of me. My shock and humiliation turn to rage and the angry bull inside has me refusing to back down, so I cross my arms and narrow my eyes in challenge. He looks back at me with a cross between fury and mild confusion over my defiant stance, quirking an eyebrow in question over my refusal to look meek and mild before him. I simply tip my head to the side, as if daring him to take one more step closer. I daren’t open my mouth to say something for I think I really would lose my job if I allowed the running roll of expletives to fall from my lips. Still, he looks on at me, trying to work out if the usual mouse of a woman is really going to challenge him.Hold your ground, Beatrice Summers.

“Y-yes, Mr Carter,” Sam stutters, looking to the floor like a good little employee. Nathaniel continues to glare at me before finally slamming the door and stomping up the stairs.

“Oh, my fuck, I thought I was going to piss my pants,” Sam laughs. “What a dick! Hey, are you ok?”

“No, Sam, I’m not ok,” I tell him before directing my anger toward him. After all, the little stunt he just tried to pull ended in me being crapped on by my boss once again. “And yes, you did come across too strong.”

Before he can say anything, I about turn and walk into my bedroom. I’m so over this trip.

Chapter 7

Bea

An overnight flight back home has me begging to fall asleep. Alas, I am unable to. Truthfully, I haven’t slept properly since Nathaniel shouted at Sam and me on Wednesday night. I’m beginning to think Leah and my brother are right; this can’t go on. Something needs to give or else one of us is most likely going to end up murdering the other.

As soon as we step outside the ‘Arrivals’ building, with the early morning sun looking exactly the same as when we were leaving, nearly a week ago, I let out a sigh of relief. I then plaster on a smile for Leah, who is already sitting on top of her bike, waiting for me to come and hop on behind her. Seeing her brings up a lot of emotions I didn’t expect to feel, but I do know I am beyond thankful to be going home. Without so much as a goodbye to the others, I begin marching in her direction. I don’t even know if I am expected to work today; there are still a whole load of business hours left.

“Beatrice?” I recognize Nick’s voice shouting out to me before I can escape completely. I could pretend not to hear him and tell Leah to drive on regardless, however, guilt stops me in my quest to get the hell away from my boss. After all, Nick has been the only one of them to not treat me like crap.

“Sorry, Mr Clayton, I forgot…I’m…”

I realize I have no idea how to even form a coherent sentence after my lack of sleep, or the shed load of stress from the last few days. In the end, I blow air through my lips and simply shake my head.

“Don’t worry, I’m pretty jet-lagged too,” he says with his charming smile, “and please, call me Nick.”

“Sorry…Nick, what time should I come in today?” I fake smile, praying I’ll be given a reprieve from work today.

“Don’t worry about coming in until next week. I’ll square it with Cameron, as well as your idiot of a boss,” he says with a serious expression I don’t often see him wearing. “Trust me when I say, we don’t all feel that way about PAs. You guys do a stellar job and if he can’t see that, then that’s his flaw, not yours.”

I offer him a nervous smile, suddenly aware of his hand resting on my arm and its heat spreading out over my otherwise numb limb, for I’m that tired. Before I can even thank him, Nathaniel and Sam walk up from behind. Nathaniel is frowning over our exchange, but I’ll take what Nick’s offering and let him deal with it. I cannot imagine for one minute that Cameron will care, so I nod my thanks to Nick, then race over to Leah before Nathaniel can get involved and force me to go in. I’ll let Monday me worry about having to deal with him.

Nate

“When did you tell her to be in today?” I ask Nick as we watch Bea ride away on her friend’s bike.

“She’s not coming in today, Nate,” he says with a sigh laced with disappointment. “Perhaps you shouldn’t either.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I snap, already knowing what it means. I lost my cool yet again.

“Mr Clayton, if it’s ok with you, I’m going to head home and get changed,” Sam says, avoiding all eye contact with me. Good, he should after what I saw the other night.

“Sure, Sam, I’ll see you on Monday,” Nick says with a warm smile for his PA, something I haven’t given mine since that first meeting. A pang of guilt hits me and I begin to wonder if what Cameron had said is right; have I been projecting my own doubts onto her?

“Are you sure? I’m happy to still come in today,” he says, showing genuine willingness to come in and put in the extra mile for Nick. Beatrice couldn’t wait to get away from me.

“No, you take the day,” he replies, “couldn’t have done London without you, Sam, I really appreciate it. Go and enjoy a long weekend; work can always wait.”

“Thank you,” Sam says with an embarrassed smile, though he is clearly reveling in his boss’ words. He then turns to face me, and I step back, shocked that he would acknowledge me, particularly with such a serious expression. There’s not a hint of intimidation or, dare I say it, respect.

“Mr Carter,” he says, sounding as confident as he can, “what you saw the other evening was completely innocent. Yes, we had been drinking, but I was telling Bea about an ex who…Look, never mind, the point is, it was nothing. I respect her too much to try and get with her under the influence of alcohol. I know you don’t think a lot of her, but you should. Even I can see she’s only living half a life, and every time you chip away at her, she lives it even less. From someone who grew up in extreme poverty, who never knew when he’d get his next real meal, you don’t know what life someone’s coming from when they walk into work that day.”

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