Chapter 4 – Disaster Strikes

Adeline shifted the car into park in his lot and exhaled a breath.

Last night had been bad. She wished she could tell him what happened – but even she only had a vague idea.

She'd gotten used to the panic attacks by now – at least, their presence. She hadn't gotten used to the feeling they gave her. She didn't think she ever would get used to that.

She knew that last night's attack had been building for hours before it ever happened. She didn't know whether it was the argument from that morning, the tournament, or his too-close-for-comfort crash-course lesson that had set the ball in motion.

His lesson – that was an experience. She really did hate the guy – but when he was so close to her, she couldn't describe accurately what she felt. She could smell his cologne and feel his breath on her neck when he was showing her how to hold the club. It was comfort, and this weird feeling in her stomach – fluttery, maybe?

Definitely fluttery. A lot like her husband had made her feel, before...everything.

But she didn't feel for him the way she felt for her husband. They could be the last two people on Earth and she couldn't see herself feeling that way for him.

At least, that's what she told herself. She told herself that it was only a symptom of the looming panic attack. She ignored the fact that she felt fine through the tournament after that. If she didn't have any feelings for him – and she didn't – that was the only reasonable explanation.

She still felt horrible for what she did, though. There was no way she would have made it through dinner with him, and it wasn't like she could tell him she was having a panic attack. Knowing his personality, he would have laughed at her. Either that, or he would have asked why she was having a panic attack, and wanted an explanation.

She would die before she gave him that.

Still, she needed to come up with something, because he would at least want an explanation as to why she had ditched him. She couldn't tell him the truth, but she had to come up with something. And she had no idea what that something would be.

The ding of the elevator she was waiting for alarmed her and made her jump. She still had a little anxiety left over from last night. She felt like she would jump out of her skin.

Why did he do this to her? Celebrities didn't make her nervous; this was her job, dealing with them. They could get a little cranky and demanding sometimes – granted, not quite as much as he had been, but he wasn't anything she couldn't handle. At least, nothing she shouldn't be able to handle. She allowed them moments to fly off the handle, because they were human too.

Although, she still wasn't sure whether she could consider him human.

The elevator jerked to a stop on the third floor, and her stomach lurched slightly. She only had a few steps before she would be in his apartment, and she still didn't have an excuse or explanation for last night.

She readjusted her bag on her shoulder and stepped off the elevator as its doors opened then closed behind her. She had no choice but to tell him she felt ill and be as vague as she could manage. At this point, it was her only option.

She walked slowly down the hall to his door, dreading this day. All she wanted to do was crawl back in bed and weep under the covers, then fall asleep and not wake up until everyone else was asleep. Despite it, she took a breath and unlocked his door.

Stepping into his entryway, she heard the silence in his house but to her surprise, she could already smell the coffee brewing.

Wow, she thought, he's up already. At least I don't have to fight that battle.

The minute she turned the corner and saw the blonde in nothing but her pink bra and panties standing in his kitchen, her keys and planner both dropped to the floor.

“Oh, hi!” the girl said, in an annoyingly cheerful voice.

Adeline was stunned for a few moments. The last thing she had expected to see when she walked into his house this morning was a half-naked girl. She was about to respond when he walked in the room.

“Hey, Ad,” he said, and smiled when he looked at her.

“Adeline. Please don't call me Ad,” she said as she picked up the things she had dropped.

“Sorry. Adeline.” He passed her and walked over to the girl with a smile on his face. “I see you've met Linda.”

She watched him wrap his arms around the girl's bare torso.

“Lisette,” she said, looking at him.

“Huh?”

“It's Lisette,” she said, countering his confused face. “My name's Lisette.”

“That's what I said,” he said, charming her with his tone of voice and the slick look in his eyes. “You didn't hear me right.”

“Really?” She looked at him and her eyes lit up, her mouth turning up into a stupid smile.

“Yeah,” he said. “Of course.”

Adeline raised her eyebrows.

“Wow. Okay. I should go and give you two a few minutes of privacy,” she said. “And maybe a few minutes to, you know, put on clothes.”

“Oh,” the blonde said. “It's okay, I was getting ready to get dressed and leave for work. It was so nice to meet you Adeline.”

She walked over and held out her hand, and even Adeline had to mentally coach her eyes to focus on the girl's face instead of her near-bare chest.

“Yes, it was nice to meet you too – I think.”

'Lisette' – or Linda, Adeline was too stunned to keep track – walked away from her with a moronic smile plastered on her face. Adeline wasn't sure she could hide her eyes as wide as dinner plates – and judging by the smirk she caught on his face, she figured she wasn't doing a good job at it anyway.

“Coffee,” she said, more to herself than him, as she walked to the counter. “I need coffee.”

“Surprise, sunshine,” he whispered as she walked past him.

They were quiet – she poured her coffee and he grabbed a muffin and sat down at the table. She leaned against the counter and tried to gather herself. As if last night wasn't enough to throw her mental stability off a bit, now she had to contend with this. She knew he was an ass, but she didn't know he would stoop this low.

After a few minutes, the mystery girl walked back into the kitchen wearing a tube top and mini skirt, with a tiny purse thrown over her shoulder.

“I left my number on the night stand,” she said, looking over at Lance. “You'll use it?”

Adeline couldn't help but look off to her side and roll her eyes.

“Of course,” he said, not bothering to look up from his book.

She was about to roll her eyes again when the girl looked over at her.

“Well it was nice meeting you again, Adeline,” she said. “I hope your surgery went well, too.”

“Surgery?” Adeline said, confused.

“Yeah. Lance told me you guys had dinner plans last night but you had to cancel because you had to have emergency surgery. He told me you sat on a sharp stick and had to have it removed.” The girl chuckled. “Color me stupid – I didn't know that could really happen.”

Adeline smiled, holding back her gritted expression, and looked over at him.

“He told you that, did he?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I think it's amazing that you're already out and back at work after a huge surgery like that.”

“Yeah,” Adeline responded. “Pretty amazing what they can do these days with medical technology. I'm sure they can even remove sharpened pencils from jugular veins.”

Lance finally looked up at the two of them.

“Let's hope so anyway,” Adeline said with a smirk in his direction.

“I hate to run,” the girl said, “but I have to get to work.”

“I'll walk you out,” Lance said. He stood up out of the chair, but his eyes never left Adeline's face until he walked out of the kitchen. When he disappeared, Adeline felt her anger rise up to her face from where she had stuffed it down into her stomach.

She wasn't sure why she cared so much. She had ditched him. She had done it suddenly and without explanation, and she had even screamed at him in the process. He had every right to go out and find solace with someone else – even if comfort for him came in bubblegum pink lace panties, she shouldn't care.

But she did care. She cared so much that she could feel her cheeks flushing and even her pulse racing. Where had he found her? Was it only a one-night stand? Could he have even paid her for sex? Did he even care about her? Did it matter? He was only her employer.

Unfortunately, she couldn't say that it didn't matter.

He appeared in the kitchen entryway and walked immediately back to his seat at the table, sitting calmly.

“Well, that was charming and classy,” she said, refilling her coffee. “Judging by her work clothes – stripper?”

“She sure ain't no accountant,” he said with a sway of his head.

She couldn't see his face since his back was turned toward her, but she could imagine the smile plastered on his face. He was getting enjoyment from this.

“I'm not a betting woman but I need to get in on the pool of which STD you have now. My money's on chlamydia.”

“Is somebody jealous?” he said in a child-like, patronizing tone.

“Not in the slightest,” she lied, sitting down next to him at the table. “Good for you, asshat. It's good to know that there are still women out there with low enough self-esteem who are so desperate that they'll sleep with men like you. Everybody needs someone to love.”

“I'm the asshat?” he said. “I'm not the one who ran out of the car screaming and freaking out last night. What the hell was that all about?”

“I didn't feel well.” She lowered her head and focused on her coffee, hoping he couldn't call her bluff.

“You didn't feel well? That's the best you can come up with?”

“Is it really any of your business?” she asked, suddenly feeling defensive. “What do you care anyway? You don't even like me.”

“That doesn't mean we shouldn't try to spend time getting to know each other. It looks like we'll be stuck with each other for a long time.”

“I don't have to be,” she said. “I'm not even sure I'll keep this job.”

“I don't think you have much of a choice. Stephanie told me you needed this job pretty badly.”

“Not for monetary reasons. I could go back to Los Angeles and find a hundred other spoiled rich brats that need my help just like you do.”

“Spoiled rich brats?” he said with a scoff. “I'm not the one who's married to a Hollywood director, honey. I worked for all my money – like all those other spoiled rich brats you think you take care of, whether you like to admit it or not.”

For a moment, she was stunned – and quite heated.

“Are you insinuating that I don't work for my money?” she asked.

“I'm not insinuating that you don't work; I'm insinuating that you're hypocritical. You think you're better than the people you work for but your husband makes as much money as any of us do – and you know as well as I do that you take advantage of it.”

She could feel her inner temperature, both literal and emotional, rise. She wanted to punch him, but she figured that he would be unabashed about hitting back, or at the least, calling the cops and pressing charges. She thought about pouring her full cup of hot coffee into his lap; but she didn't want to drive him to the hospital with first-degree burns, and she knew he would make her wash the stains out of his clothes.

But dishing out the same kind of verbal assault that he dished out to her every day – that would be worse. It would hit him hard.

“You know what you do?” she asked. “You use words to make people around you feel as miserable as you always do. You pick up stupid, blonde bimbos with bad pick-up lines and have meaningless sex with them because you're totally empty inside. You have a big, fat hole in your heart that your fiancee left when she threw you to the curb.”

The minute it came out, her mouth almost dropped to the floor. She couldn't believe it had come out of her. She was generally nice to people, and she knew she shouldn't have said it. But he had taken her last nerve and grated it into a fine powder. Just because she knew she shouldn't have said it, didn't mean she didn't stand by it.

“What'd you say?” he said, surprisingly calm.

“You heard me. If you'd look closely at yourself and how you interact with people, you might understand why she left you.”

He stood up from his chair, turned his back to her and started walking to the kitchen counter.

“Cancel everything for today, get your shit, and get out of my house,” he said.

She scoffed.

“You can't be serious.”

“Oh, I am,” he said. “You're lucky I'm only asking you to leave, instead of firing you.”

“Lance, I --”

“Get out!”

The volume and seriousness in his voice startled her, and she jumped. She stood still in her seat for a moment, shocked by his outburst, watching him lean against the counter with his back to her. She had watched him size her up, knock her down, throw his tantrums, and be a general pain in her ass – but he had never screamed at her.

“You really want me to leave?” she asked quietly.

“I really want you to leave,” he said, his voice low but stern.

She felt her heart drop. She grabbed her coffee cup from the table and stood up.

“Fine,” she said, carrying it over and placing it in the sink. “I'll leave.”

He was silent, but he craned his neck slightly to watch her grab her jacket off the chair and her bag off the table, placing them both around her shoulders. She lingered a few moments before she slowly walked out of the kitchen, and he heard her shut the door behind her.

When she left, she didn't hesitate at his door; she could already feel her emotional side taking control and she wanted to get home before it took over completely. She rushed to the open elevator, avoiding looking in the eyes of the woman getting off, and pushed back the urge to tear up.

Once inside, she pushed the button to close the doors three times, and once she was safely alone inside, she exhaled a breath.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, she chided herself in her mind. He's an asshole, but he's still a human.

The elevator stopped on the second floor and when the doors opened up, a man in a business suit stepped on. He smiled at her as he turned around and the doors closed.

Totally unacceptable to bring up his girlfriend, she thought. It was unprofessional. Unethical, really...and just damn mean, too.

“I am an asshat,” she whispered to herself.

She didn't realize she said it out loud until the man looked back at her wide-eyed. He stared at her a few moments, and all the while she wished she could melt into a puddle and evaporate.

“Sorry,” she said, smiling. “I guess I forgot that I wasn't alone.”

She sighed as he raised his eyebrows and turned to look back toward the door, still bewildered.

Make that a huge asshat, she thought to herself.