Cinderella Man

Day two at work wasn’t any easier. If fact, Aubrey’s stack of papers had grown again. She pressed the tips of her fingers to her forehead, massaging her temples. She was already stressed.

She arrived promptly at seven and as she glanced at the clock, she noticed it was only noon now. She had five more hours before she had to head off to her night class.

Her phone rang and she quickly picked it up. “Hello?”

“Aubrey?” the voice on the other line was all too familiar. Her ex.

“Michael, how the hell did you find this number?” Her voice was stern with an undertone of fear. Last time he abruptly entered her life, she was left with a broken heart. Her wounds had not managed to heal and here he was cutting them open again with just the sound of his voice.

“Bre, I miss you. I’ve been lookin’ all over for you.” His velvety voice rang through her eyes, sending familiar chills down her spine. She had loved Michael so much, and still did, but she refused to be his toy. He always came running back to her when some random chick screwed him over.

“Look, Michael, I’m at work. I can’t talk-“

“When can we talk?” he asked, ignoring her statement.

She paused, deliberating on her answer. “It’s over, Michael.” She quickly hung up the phone, exhaling deeply. His voice was enough to bring back heated nights of passion and the bittersweet tears she shed every time he left. Not anymore. She had to grow out of this habit of taking him back.

She buried her face in her hands, her mind racing with memories. ’Get a grip,’ she told herself. She took a deep breath in, exhaling calmly. He was still a fresh wound.

She glanced at her watch. It was almost lunch time. She picked up her phone while searching through a phone book. She found the number of the restaurant she was looking for.

…

Marshall sat at his desk again, his eyes studying the white paper he held in his hand. Should he go? Did he want to? He weighed the pros and cons. Cons: too many people, too hot, he was very busy, he hated MTV. Pros: Aubrey in a bikini.

What? Did you expect something else?

He put the paper away as a knock came to his door. It slowly creaked open. Her curly brown hair popped in first, followed by her slender body. She was wearing a white halter top that hugged her full breasts and her black knee-length skirt outlined the curves of her hips. Her feet were adorned with black five inch heels to make up for her lack of height.

“Ah, if it ain’t the devil in heels,” he chuckled as he watched her struggle with carrying the food. She shot him a glare before setting down their meal. She handed him a box and a Dr. Pepper bottle. He opened the box, staring down at the strange concoction. “What is it?”

“Chicken piccata and artichoke gratin from Mama Mia’s,” she replied as she sat down in front of his desk, opening her own box. She took a slow, deliberate bite, closing her eyes as she savored the flavor. The way she ate it made it look like the best thing on earth.

He poked the chicken with his fork before deciding to take a bite, finding the food much to his liking. He continued eating as he watched her. She sat across from him with one leg crossed over the other. “What are you doing next week?” he tried to sound casual, but he noticed the arched eyebrow she offered.

“Reading through stacks of papers, ordering food, booking interviews- the usual stuff I do for someone who is too lazy to do it themselves,” she retorted. What else would she be doing? She was stuck working while everyone else went off to some exotic beach for spring break. She had hoped that Marshall would have agreed to the MTV appearance. She always wanted to go to the Bahamas.

“Touché,” he took another bite. He chewed slowly as his eyes lingered on her tense posture. It was cute to him how she always tried to act like he didn’t faze her. “No spring break plans?”

“Nope, my bank account is in a recession.” Her honey glazed eyes shifted from her food to him. Oddly, she found the man before her quite handsome. With his bad boy attitude put aside, he could pull off being a gentleman. Gorgeous blue eyes and a smile to melt an iceberg were more than enough to put him on the top of Hollywood’s list of leading men. But his starter cap and loose sweatpants and matching hoodie set him back miles away from anything remotely similar to a gentleman.

Although, Aubrey had always been attracted to the bad boy type. There was something wild and erotic about an uninhibited man who broke the law. Even if it was just smoking weed. If he could break the law, just imagine what he could do in the bedroom.

Michael was the bad boy she fell for in her freshman year of high school. He was the senior who didn’t care about anything and his rugged ways attracted her even more. His dark hair was short, spiked in an interesting manner. His hypnotizing green eyes held allure, mischief, and danger. His clothes always fit loosely around his toned body. He reminded her much of the man that sat before her now.

He was her first and her only. She fell for him hard and there was no stopping it. He introduced her to all the things the world had to offer, shattering her good girl image. Cigarettes, weed, beer, ecstasy- you name it, Michael got her to try it.

She snapped out of her trance as Marshall’s voice reached her.

“Now ya do.”

She rolled her eyes, “Yeah, I already knew I was working, Sherlock.”

He chuckled, “No. I’m goin’ to the Bahamas’ and since you’re my personal assistant- where I go, you go.”

She gulped down her bite of food she had been chewing on. “Holy shit, really?” A vacation, even a work related vacation, would be perfect. She could get her mind off from school and focus on herself. Soak in the much needed sun and enjoy the tranquil atmosphere the ocean offered.

Her remark caught him off guard. “I take it you neva been befo’?”

She shook her head, “No, but I’ve always wanted to go.”

“Good,” he took another bite. “Since this is a vacation, you gotta pay fo your own stay or,” he smirked, “you can just repay me. I accept nude pics, videos-“

“Can’t I sue you for sexual harassment?” she cut in.

He snickered, “It ain’t sexual harassment if you like it, sweetheart.”