Venom & Velvet

Chapter Two

Addison

7 am. s**t!

“Tell me you’re up, Addison.”

“I’m up,” I say, biting back a smile as I anticipate the impending storm.

“Dressed?”

I roll my eyes and push open the adjoining bathroom door.

“What the hell am I supposed to say to that?”

Cassidy heaves an exasperated sigh. I can picture her massaging her forehead.

“It’s a question, Addie, you’re supposed to say yes or no.”

“Oh-- Unfortunately, it’s a no, but I--”

“What the hell!”

I tug off my nightshirt and turn on the shower, stretching out a hand to check the temperature.

“We talked about this last night, the night before-- the--”

“I know! Come on, stop screaming, Cassie. I’m trying to adjust to the new day.”

“Well, you better hurry. That agency probably has loads of applicants waiting to take your spot.”

“Right. Are you on your way yet?”

“Just parked beside your car,” she replies, and then, she’s silent for a minute. I can hear the car's engine revving. “I’ll be up in a minute.” She says in a breathless tone.

“Okay. I’ll go wake Abigail up.”

“No, that’s my job. I’ll wake Angel up, prepare her for school, drive her to school, and pick her up later. You, girl, just focus on bringing the big bag home.”

“Alright, Ma’am.”

Cassidy chuckles.

"That's my girl!”

I laugh, drop the phone on the shelf, and step under the cold spray.

Cassidy has the keys, so I don’t have to get the door. The water rushes over my naked body. I sigh and tilt my face upward, shutting off the images crawling to the back of my mind.

On impulse, I trail my right hand over my belly, reaching for the one spot that hasn’t stopped tingling. The dream was so real. I can still feel Maxwell's slimy pre-c*m on my fingers. The thick length had twitched in my hand. The feeling had been so exhilarating.

“f**k!” I let out a surprised gasp as my fingers brush the clammy dampness in the apex of my thighs.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Oh, s**t! Cassidy is still on the phone. I thought she hung up?!

I scrunch my face, wondering if it’s okay to tell her about the dream she roused me from. Cassidy has been my best friend since I moved into my foster home at 8 years old. She was the first girl in the neighborhood that invited me to a sleepover and our friendship has blossomed throughout the years. She’s my ride-or-die, my soul sister.

My bedroom door opens. I can hear heels clacking on the tiled floor. Cassidy is coming in, her steps are frantic.

“In here!” I call out to her, shutting off the water and grabbing a towel from the hook.

“Are you okay?" Concern colors her words.

I towel my body dry. My hair is a bit wet, but it doesn’t need much work. I’ll brush it and pack the red curls into a neat ponytail.

Cassidy leans on the door, studying my every move with a scrutinizing glance. I toss her a small smile as I brush past her to enter my bedroom. “I’m fine. I just-- I had that dream again, and it’s quite disturbing.”

Cassidy furrows her brows and trails behind me.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I give it a thought. Talking about it is going to make me admit the effect it’s having on me. I want to shut that part off and focus on the long day ahead.

“No. I’d rather not.”

She heaves a sigh and reaches out a hand to pat my shoulder, massaging it gently.

"Honestly, I don’t want to listen either. Maxwell is an assohole."

I manage a chuckle.

Cassidy hated Maxwell Rodgers as much as I did. She was surprised when I told her what happened in the restroom at my 19th birthday party, but she didn’t judge me-- not even the tiniest bit.

When I found out I was pregnant, Cassidy held my hands and promised to stand by me. She stood by me when I told my foster family the news. They were supportive too, more than I ever imagined.

Max was right about that night being one I won’t ever forget. That single act has been haunting me for years, plus I have a five-year-old to remind me, too.

Cassidy gives my shoulder one last pat, then withdraws.

“I’ll go get Abigail ready for school. Call me as soon as you’re done. Maybe we could grab lunch?”

I give her a nod before opening the wardrobe to grab the dress I picked for today. It’s going to be my fourth collaboration with Vivid Design Agency, and I’m keeping my fingers crossed for another seamless and trouble-free experience, just like the previous gigs.

***

Apprehension tweaks my insides as I step out of the elevator. It's one of the biggest skyscrapers I've ever seen - sixty-two floors - and there's a sign outside for an underground parking lot.

I glance around the brightly lit hallway, a part of me expecting some sharp-tongued lady to step out from one of the offices and attend to me. Mike says I must check out the space and see if it's something I can do before meeting the rest of the team.

"Ms. Archers?" It's an older man with warm brown eyes.

Mike says the owner is one of the best tech engineers in Boston and his company is just 4 years old, two years older than mine.

"Hello." I start towards him, my lips curving in a warm smile.

"How long have you been here?" He asks as he covers the space between us, stretching out a hand for a handshake.

"It’s been barely a minute. I just got here. I hope I'm not late. Traffic at Downtown Crossing was crazy."

He chuckles as he releases his firm grip on my hand. Damn, he must be thinking I'm some nutcase that blabs nonstop about mundane things. I don't want to jinx this chance. I need to save more for a vacation with Abigail before the year ends. And there's the part about needing to revamp my office space and get new color switches, more fabric samples, and then a trip to the mechanic.

"No, you're right on time. I'll give you a little tour of the space before we go any further."

I want to ask him what he means by going any further, but I swallow back the words and concentrate on trailing behind him as he walks to what appears to be a reception, talking about the company with a proud grin etched on his face.

"I'm Carson, and I'll be showing you the floors you and the others will be working on." He tosses me a welcoming smile. "Do you have a camera? A notepad?"

"Both. I came prepared," I say with a grin that matches his own.

"Firstly, this is going to be your office space. Just you, Ms. Archers, and--” Mr. Carson says, then he pushes another door, three doors from the one he says will be my new office. “This is going to be for your team. It’s spacious, with a miniature coffee maker, so they don’t have to mingle with the others on this floor if and when they choose not to."

I survey the tastefully furnished space, marveling at the effort they’ve put into ensuring my comfort. It’s heartwarming and not an experience I’m quite used to. In the previous firms I worked for, I always had to shuttle between my office building in Newbury Street to wherever it was. This time, I was willing to make the short trip from my office to the Southeastern part of town every day. It’s about 15 minutes if my timing this morning was right.

But it appears I don't have to go through that stress. But why do I feel like something is lurking in the shadows?