Jawbreaker

Amber Eyes

Fiona really didn’t elaborate on where I was supposed to meet mr billionaire's secretary, nor did she mention to me how large his penthouse was. I thought about all the problems this job might cause me after I agreed to do it. I really wish I had thought about this first, I am not even sure I know who to contact.

Truthfully, she only really gave me a small black business card, with a phone number written in white on one side. Oh and a set of keys, to his penthouse. Why would anyone have a set of keys to someone else’s house?

Guess I need to suck it up and stop asking myself so many questions I can’t answer. Before I get myself into trouble, like I always do.

I sigh and flip the business card in my hand over, looking for any other information for me to go off of… nothing. It’s completely blank on the back. Why does everything Fiona gets me involved in have to be so suspicious.

If the two of us were in a horror murder movie, we would be dead in the first five minutes. Fiona first, because she would probably be lured into a very obvious trap made by the killer. I would probably die trying to convince her out of her childish illusions.

I walk around the huge living room of this strangers penthouse, running my hand along the black leather couch. The cool air made me wonder what type of man Alexander Quinn’s brother is, to keep his home so cold all the time.

“Tch.” I sigh, clicking my tongue and leaning on one hip. I groan out of irritation, slapping my forehead and slumping down into the couch with a plop. “Guess I have to call this incredibly sketchy phone number now, while I wander around this incredibly sketchy apartment.”

I dial the number, and place the phone up to my ear as I tap the card on my leg impatiently. God, I need a drink. In fact, I need a few drinks.

It rings twice before a woman picks up, her voice very curt, and business-like. “Marianne Hansen, this is Mr. Quinn’s office. How May I assist you?”

“Hi.. um I was told there was an opening as a maid? Or gofer? How do I apply?” I clear my throat, trying to match her standards vocally. Epic fail. I totally sound forced and not at all professional.

“Ah! Yes. You are Miss Jones correct? Mrs. Evans mentioned she knew someone interested in the Job.” Her voice stays steady, with no sign of emotional change as she continues. Totally sketch. “When are you available to start?”

“When do you need me?” I ask, the cocky tone in my voice shriveled by invisible intimidation. “Or um.. when can I start?”

I hear a soft chuckle on the other side, deeper and slightly softer than her previous tone. The hair on my arms stood, startled slightly. Was that her, or possibly… someone else?

Like I said, this is absolutely, positively, 100% totally sketchy.

“The position is open Immediately, directly and remote depending on Mr. Quinn’s needs. You will start tomorrow, I assume you know the building number?” She questions, to which I reply a simple ‘mhm’… since I am currently sitting on the couch of said apartment.

“We require that all direct staff of Mr. Quinn lives as close to the residence as possible, in case of any emergency, so plan accordingly. Be there at 7am, I will be waiting for you with your paperwork, schedule, and instructions.” She speaks frankly, then the phone line ends suddenly as if she hung up. Shocked at the sudden actions, I freeze for a moment, wondering if that conversation really just happened.

‘… that’s it?’ I think to myself, dumbfounded at how easy and quick that conversation was.. for her. Sheesh, I am gonna have to clean up how I act for this job aren’t I?

I sigh, looking around the empty penthouse. ‘I guess I should head back and pack up my things, before I goto Fiona’s place.’ I stand from my little sunken spot on the dark leather, grabbing my things from the counter.

I leave the penthouse and lock the door, before making my way back to the lobby on the first floor of Fiona’s building. I exit, standing on the curb and gesturing my hand to catch a taxi at the worst time of day possible. I watch the busy street for a moment, continuing to gesture for a cab.

After waiting for awhile, what felt like 20-30 minutes, a cab finally pulls up. Hurriedly, I slip into the backseat… my hip bumping with someone else’s.

“Ah, sorry! I assumed the taxi wasn’t taken-“ I yelp, awkwardly fumbling as I attempt to jump back out of the taxi, backwards. My high-heels slip on the edge of the car door, and I fall towards the concrete at record speed, my purse spilling everywhere as I descend downward.

Before my body meets with the ground, a strong pair of arms wraps around my waist, someone’s warm body pressing against my backside.

“It’s quite alright,” A husky, warm voice whispers in my ear. A chill hits my spine as I frantically gather myself and pick up my things, stepping away from the man who just saved me from a few minor scratches.

“This is my stop anyway.” The deep, strangely handsome, voice continues as I brush my pencil skirt straight once more. My face burns hot with embarrassment, my stomach twisting with attraction to the sound of this complete strangers voice.

“Oh..” I look up, my eyes meeting with a pair of bright amber irises… the flush gold of his eyes met with a warm light brown in the sunlight, making me nauseatingly breathless.

I look him down, forgetting my words. His navy blue suit sleek, and folded in all the right places. He stood much taller than me, in fact significantly taller than me. I stand at five feet even, while this man had to be at least six feet tall.

This has to be the handsomest man I have EVER met!

His shoulders were broad, and *definitely* muscular. It was obvious he put lots of care into his appearance, even his hair was perfectly styled to one side with a gentle shine from hair product.

He suddenly clears his throat, and adjusts his tie with no expression. “Are you alright?” He looks at me, his eyes empty of emotion. I thought that his eyes sparkled for a minute, was it my imagination?

“Oh! I’m great, yeah.” I tuck away some of my dark strands of hair billowing in the wind as I blush further.

“Are you sure?” He furrows his brows, and points to my knee. I look down to notice that my pantyhose has a new tear, where a small cut had formed, bleeding lightly.

“As if I couldn’t handle a minor scratch, I will be fine. Thanks for your concern.” I laugh awkwardly, fumbling out tense words due to my gutted shyness. Wow, ok I totally sounded rude. What is wrong with me?!

He chuckles softly, before bending down swiftly to pick up a few of the items that scattered across the pavement when I fell. He looks up at me gently, grabbing my hand and placing the tissue and mascara in my palm.

His eye contact with me stays constant,my insides begin to do cartwheels at his stare.

“Hey, Lady! Hurry up will you!” The taxi driver screams at us through the open window of his cab, making me jump abruptly at his hostility. It pulls me back to reality, hurriedly I maneuver past the man and hop back into the backseat.

“U-um… Thank you!” I wave to him, before closing the door and putting my seatbelt on.

The man stands, tucking his hands in his pockets while watching the cab as it pulls away from the curb. He stays there like a statue, while I just oddly stare back at him until his figure disappears in the distance.

“Where to miss? I haven’t got all day, clocks a tickin’.” He taps his dashboard where a time has been started for the drive, when I dig around in my purse. Looking for my cherry flavored, bright red lipstick.

“Fuck..” I realize that it’s likely I lost it on the sidewalk, during that intense and strange confrontation. “Terry and third, The mitch park building please.” I sigh. I just bought that one too, it was my new favorite lipstick.

I slump back into the seat as the driver makes his way through the traffic filled city, disappointed by the whole situation. I pull out my phone, reading one of my saved digital books to pass the time spent in traffic.

Once we reach my apartment building, I pay the cab driver his fare, making my way through the front doors and into the closest elevator. The sounds of the metal elevator doors screeched loudly as they close, I flinch instinctively at the familiar yet startling sound.

“Haa…” I sigh, annoyed at my own uneasy nerves.

‘Why had that minor confrontation shaken me so much?’ I think, closing my eyes and concentrating on the movements of the elevator.

For a moment, his vividly amber eyes sneak their way into my mind.

My heart leaps in my chest.

‘What the hell!’