Oh Stupid Heart (4 page)

A woman’s yelp drew
Carrie’s attention to the outer office. Grant mauled an all too familiar tall
blonde in an obscenely short skirt. Angela—no doubt shared the great news she
got the job. Odd, his expression held no hint of happiness for his girlfriend,
despite him taking advantage of their embrace to fondle her ass.

He probably hoped to
play the field at work. Carrie chuckled. If Coco had her way, he’d need to
become bi-sexual to achieve his goal since she didn’t intend to hire any
females.

Carrie pressed down
the intercom and sweetly reminded them, “This is a workplace.”

They both turned to
her, Grant glaring, and Angela smiling. A moment later, the beautiful woman
knocked on the door and entered, closing it behind her. “You’re the girl who
was with Mr. Lancaster this morning.”

Carrie nodded, not
trusting her. If she dated Grant, her mental health lay in doubt.

“Do you two live in
the same town?”

“No. Trent has an
estate in Long Island and a penthouse two blocks from here. I have a house in
Denville.”

“Then why was he on
the Morris line?”

My God, she’s nosy!
It was none of her damn business. “You’ll have to ask Trent, or better yet,
don’t. He might regret hiring you.”

“Why?”

“You sound rather
like an undercover writer for one of the trash magazines like
Gossep
.”

“They aren’t trash.
They’re legitimate magazines purchased and read by millions of people.”

Carrie had only been
dodging the truth, but the woman’s response made her wonder if Angela wasn’t an
undercover gossip columnist for the magazine. Given their unfortunate news
coverage during the last week, a publisher might want to know more about Trent
Lancaster. Thank God she headed to San Francisco for two weeks. She didn’t want
her personal life plastered on the newsstand.

Angela cleared her
throat to get Carrie’s attention. “May I use this space? No one seems to know
where the HR office is.”

Carrie’s head popped
up. Was she serious? “No. While it doesn’t look like it, this is the CEO’s
office.”

Her gaze went to the
broken cadenza. “Is the company going under?”

“No. The company is
fine. We’re having this area renovated.”

“Who’s handling that?”

She’d never met a
nosier person in her life! “I am.”

“That’s weird.”

“What is?”

“Grant said you
were…well, you know.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Transitioning out of
the company.”

Carrie snorted. “He’s
an idiot. And you can quote me. I’ve been promoted to change specialist to
engage our new employees and re-engage our old ones.”

Angela shook her head.
“Well, you’re going to need to work with Grant, so I won’t mention you called
him an idiot.”

“If he wants my help
in learning his job….” She sighed heavily. Even the idea turned her stomach. “I
will, of course, train him in.”

Angela choked. “No. I
meant about the office. He’ll have specific demands there. In fact, he’s
already got floor plans laid out in his design program.”

No way in hell would
she live with Grant’s preferences for the rest of her life. “Well, Trent has
already approved the floor plans and furniture.”

“Trust me. You don’t
want to do this.” She sighed. “I’m not trying to fight with you. I’m trying to
help. Don’t make Grant your enemy. He’s going places.”

Carrie wished he’d go
to them now.

Angela stepped
closer. “You’ve clearly made a bad start, but it’s not too late to turn it
around. Deliver his latté each morning with your best smile and do whatever he
asks.”

“Is that what you
do?”

She nodded. “And look,
he got me a job.”

“No, he didn’t.
You
got your job. The HR person didn’t want to hire you, but you impressed Trent,
so he hired you anyway.”

Her eyes rounded. “He
overrode my boss and hired me against her will?”

“Don’t worry, she’s
temporary.”

Angela’s mouth fell
open. After a moment of inarticulate squeaks, she rushed to Grant.

His voice vibrated
through the glass wall. “She doesn’t know shit! Stay away from her.”

Carrie closed down
her computer in disgust. She couldn’t work in here. She gathered her
belongings, exited Trent’s office, and locked the door.

“Excuse me.” Grant
held out his hand, palm up as if wanting money.

She snorted. “Do you
think you’re a toll booth?”

“The keys! Hand them
over.”

She dropped them in
her purse. “If you need access to Trent’s office, you will need to get it from him.”
With a flash of teeth pretending to be a smile, she left.

“Come back here!”

Carrie ignored his
bellowing and hurried to the elevator.

Once safe inside, she
called Sam.

“What?” he demanded.

“Are you busy?”

“I was working out
the meaning of life, the universe, and everything, only your call made me
forget it all.”

She grinned. “I like
Douglas Adams, too. His writing is one of the few things crazier than my life.”

“Not by much. Did you
call for some reason?”

“I hoped you would
take me to the hospital so I could check on Jack.”

“Have you noticed
those yellow cars stopping and picking people up? Those are taxis.”

“Yes, and the mostly
foreign people who drive them get very grumpy if you try to give them a credit
card for the fare
. Never mind that the
mayor says they have to accept them.”

“You still don’t have
money?”

“No, which is why I
want to visit Jack. Until he gets better, nobody gets paid.”

“Fortunately, I’m on
a payroll system run by Mars.”

“Which one?” Trent
had two butlers called Mars. She mostly dealt with Mars, the penthouse butler,
but Sam evidently reported into the other Mars at the Long Island estate, as
well. She couldn’t imagine having two bosses. One Trent was more than enough.

“Which Mars do you think?”
Sam asked in a tone that suggested her question was stupid. “The ancient
mariner or the too-young-to-be-a-butler with an office you wish to replicate.”

“Man, are you lucky.
I bet nothing ever gets screwed up with your paycheck. Once I received a negative
paycheck because accounting had input the tax withholdings at a hundred and
twenty-eight percent, instead of twenty-eight percent.”

She smiled as she
exited the building and saw Sam’s limo parked outside. Despite his grumpiness
on the phone, Sam got out and opened the back door for her.

Once he returned to
the driver’s seat and pulled away, he responded to her payroll horror story. “I
would have quit this job a thousand times if not for Mars. He could do so much
more with his life. I’ve no idea why he works for Trent. It’s not an easy job,
you know.”

She laughed softly.
“Taking care of Trent and his belongings has to be the hardest job in the
world.”

He stared at her
through the rearview mirror. “You know, this thing between the two of you isn’t
going to last.”

“No, I don’t know
that. But I’ll grant you it’s a possibility. But I’d say the same for any
relationship, personal or professional. Nothing in life is certain.” Having no
wish to discuss her personal relationship with Trent, she switched topics. “So
what did you and Dawn fight over?”

“You.”

“Me? Why would I even
appear on the radar?”

He rolled his neck.
“I mentioned your name, and she flipped out.”

“Sounds like she
overreacted.”

“Exactly!”

“What was the
context?”

“None of your damn
business,” he barked.

“Fair enough. You
wouldn’t believe the personal shit the new employee asked me.”

“Like what?”

“First, let me begin
with this morning before she became an employee. While we were looking for you
and the limo, she waylaid Trent and told him what a great man he was for giving
a poor woman two one-hundred-dollar bills.”

“Did he want the
woman murdered during a robbery?”

“Actually, that
almost happened, but let me get back to the nosy new employees. Anyway, so the woman
interviews and gets hired even though Coco doesn’t want her. An hour into my
day, she shows up and tries to oust me from Trent’s office because she wants to
work there. She asked me why he rode the train with me this morning. Oh, and
she’s the girlfriend of the jerk Coco hired.”

“Are you making stuff
up? Because it sounds a lot like a soap opera.”

“It does, doesn’t it?
I told her she sounded like an undercover reporter for a gossip rag.”

“How’d she respond?”

“She informed me
millions read those magazines and they weren’t rags.”

“What does she look
like?”

“Your type. Tall,
blond, and easy.”

“I don’t have a
type.”

“Right, you like
whatever Trent likes.”

His eyes narrowed.
“If you believe that,
you
should be worried, since I have absolutely no
interest in you. Ergo, Master Trent must not either.”

“Below the belt. Five
minutes, penalty box.” She tried to push the switch to close the privacy glass,
but her arm wasn’t long enough to reach the button on the panel above her.
Refusing to ask Sam to put himself in the penalty box, she unbuckled her seat
and stood up.

The car abruptly
slowed and she tumbled into the backward facing seat. Certain he did it on
purpose, she refused to complain. She scrambled back to her seat, hit the
switch for the privacy window, and buckled in.

When five minutes
ended, she made no attempt to lower the glass. If he wanted to be a jerk, she’d
rather not talk to him.

Still, he spoke the
truth. She didn’t come close to Trent’s type. What’s more, she started the
hits-below-the-belt.

She removed her seat
belt, lowered the privacy window, and sat down before he could slam on his brakes
again. “I’m sorry for my comment about you liking only what Trent does.”

He made no response.

“It was uncalled for
and below the belt.”

He pulled the car
over and got out.

For a moment she
thought he’d abandoned her, but then the back door opened. “We have arrived at
your destination, madam.”

She climbed out.
“Thank you, Sam. I appreciate it.”

He handed her a
twenty dollar bill. “Flag a taxi when you want to leave.”

For some reason, Sam’s
desire not to drive her about town made Carrie’s eyes water. She wanted to
refuse the money and storm off, but after her scare with the “bad boss pimp”
who’d wanted to force her into his harem, she never wanted to be stranded
without money in the city again.

“Thank you. I’ll pay
you back.”

“Don’t bother.”

She met his angry
glare with no animosity on her side. “I will bother. You shouldn’t have to
provide charity to people you don’t like.”

Carrie turned to
leave, but he snared her arm.

“I don’t dislike
you.”

Could have fooled me.

“I’m reevaluating my
life. Things aren’t turning out like I planned, and it’s making me cranky.”

She nodded. Her
efforts to get new and better employees shouldn’t have resulted in Coco, Grant,
and his nosy girlfriend. “I’m cranky too. I met the new EA today, and he’s a
total ass.”

Sam’s forehead wrinkled
like a shar-pei. “That’s your title.”

“Was. I’ve been
promoted to change specialist temporarily.”

He stuffed her back
into the limo and climbed in after her. Taking the seat across from her, he
rested his elbows upon his knees. “Talk to me.”

Carrie spilled her
guts, desperate to share this with someone who knew Trent. She needed assurance
she wasn’t being an idiot.

She chewed her bottom
lip as Sam digested the information. His worried brow remained, which left her
with a queasy stomach.

He ran his hand
through his hair. “How much has Trent told you about his past relationship with
Coco?”

“He told me his
father made him get engaged to Coco, and he was relieved when she broke it
off.”

Sam remained silent.
His sudden case of lockjaw worried her.

“Was that not true?”

“Not my impression.
I’ll talk to Mars and get his opinion.”

“No, don’t. It’s the
past. It doesn’t matter.”

His eyebrows rose in
challenge.

“I can’t let Trent’s
history influence our future. He has promised to fire Coco the moment we’ve got
the new people.”

“People who are so
far treating you like shit.”

“Just one.”

“Two, by my count.
The girl wasn’t poking around for information on Trent; she sought dirt on you.
And you gave it to her. By tomorrow, everyone will read you’re sleeping with
Trent and presume that’s the only reason you have a job. If you’re lucky, she
doesn’t work for a gossip magazine, but I think your instincts are good there.
I’ll ask a friend of mind to check her out, but from the cheap seats, your
moment with Trent looks done before it ever started.”

Carrie’s stomach
roiled.
Oh God, what if he’s right?

He returned to the
driver’s seat. Before she could gather the strength to get out on her own, the
limo eased into traffic.

“Wait. I haven’t seen
Jack.” Just because her life might be falling apart was no excuse not to check
on the guy she’d almost killed.

“If Dr. Lenard sets
eyes upon you in your current state, he’ll check you back in the hospital. When
was the last time you ate?”

“Joey bought me
dinner yesterday before he decided he wanted nothing more to do with me because
I didn’t want him arresting Trent’s gardener and the fellow’s wife.”

“I’m glad you gave
them time to escape arrest. Carlos is a great guy.”

She nodded.

“So what’d Joey buy
you?”

“Salmon and
vegetables.”

“And how much of it
did you eat?”

“A quarter. I had a
long walk ahead of me, so I needed the strength.”

“Hold on, this had to
be before we arrived at your house, yesterday.”

“Yes, and before you
pry it out of me, I haven’t eaten since. Trent was hard to wake up and dallied
about when he did, so cooking breakfast fell out of the time schedule. I had
hoped we might eat something at his penthouse, but all the house servants have
quit.”

He entered the
penthouse garage.

“What are you doing?
Trent promised Mars we wouldn’t bother him for two days.”

“You’re here as my
friend. As such, you will not ask Mars for the time of day. I am the only
person you will speak to.”

“Are you going to
feed me?”

“Yes.”

“Will it be something
nutritious? I can’t eat junk food.”

“Why not?”

“It lacks the
nutrition I require to stay alive with my tiny stomach.”

Through the rear view
mirror, she saw his eyes roll. He, no doubt, thought her explanation stupid. “You
ever think about growing your stomach?”

“Bad idea. I’m too
short to put on weight. Twenty extra pounds on me would be like a hundred on
you. Dr. Lenard says I need five tiny meals a day. But life’s been so crazy
recently, I keep forgetting to make myself mini-meals to take to work.”

He parked the car and
opened her door. When she got out, he gripped her hand and led her to a
delivery elevator.

She moved away from
the filthy walls as the rusty iron crate crept upwards, groaning with every
inch.

“Is this rust bucket
maintained?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Not
that I’ve ever seen.”

Fifteen minutes later,
the doors slowly opened and she followed him out into a dingy, narrow hallway. “That’s
got to kill your commute time.”

“Yeah, it takes
longer to go up forty-six stories than to drive from Brooklyn.”

“You should take the one
in the lobby.”

“I do on occasion,
but the grief I get puts me in a bad mood all day.”

She stumbled as they
walked down the dingy corridor. He gripped her arm. “Easy.”

“There’s a crack in
the hallway.”

“Yeah, maintenance
doesn’t bother with the servants’ areas.”

“I’m pretty sure a fissure
in the floor of a high rise should bother everybody in the building.”

He shrugged. “You’re
probably right. Fortunately, I spend most my time in the car.”

Once they passed
through two security doors, the environment finally looked like Trent’s home,
only from the opposite view. She stared across the sunken living room to the
door she normally entered.

Where was Mars? He’d
always been standing by the front entrance when she arrived with Trent.

“How does Mars know
when Trent arrives?”

“A buzzer goes off
when anyone activates the penthouse floor on the main elevator.” He glanced at
her and chuckled. “What? You thought he stood there all day, like a dog waiting
to go for a walk?” He led her into the servants’ area.

The thought of Mars
being any sort of a dog set her to giggling. The sudden clearing of a throat
sobered her at once. Mars stood at the door of his office, his brow heavily
furrowed.

Sam’s chin rose in
defiance. “She’s not here as Master Trent’s toy, she’s here as my friend.”

Carrie didn’t appreciate
Sam classifying her as a toy, but declaring her a friend warmed her soul. Given
his intense scowl, she gathered Mars didn’t approve of their friendship.

Sam led her to a
comfortable living room she’d never seen before. She especially liked that the center
of the floor didn’t sink three feet. One less thing for her tiny legs to trip
on.

“Sit. I’ll get us
both food.”

“I can do it.”

“No! You are to stay
away from the kitchen. Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

Carrie sighed and relaxed
on the couch. She located the remote control and switched the TV on to a soap
opera she hadn’t watched since her bout of flu in college. As far as she could
tell, the actors’ problems remained basically the same, but everyone had
swapped partners.

Arriving with two meals,
Sam set them on the coffee table, and disappeared back into the kitchen. She
checked out the sandwiches. Fresh, soft pita bread covered spinach leaves,
tomatoes, and a thin slice of chicken breast. Her stomach growled its
appreciation.

Knowing she could
never eat both halves, she placed her second half on his plate. The moment she
took a bite, her life brightened.

Sam retrieved a green
tea for her and a beer for him. He grabbed the control and flipped to a sports
channel.

She hated when men
acted as if God gave them first rights to the remote. “I was watching that.”

“Bullshit. The woman
was crying her eyes out, and you’re smiling.”

If he’d walked in on
crying, she couldn’t argue with his conclusion. Nor could she recall why she’d thought
something amusing either. The answer popped into her head and she smiled again.
“Oh. I’d realized given the limited population of actors the writers have to
work with, they have to eventually use every possible coupling of the actors in
order to keep the story fresh.”

The moment she set
down her plate, feeling happy and full, Mars spoke from behind them. “Miss
Carrie, when you have finished your meal, please see me in my office.”

She smiled at a
worried Sam. “He’s advising me on getting Trent’s new office built.” Having put
Sam at ease, she finished her green tea and made her way to Mars’ office. He
sat at his desk, sorting papers.

“How’s the hiring
going?” she asked, leaning on the doorframe, admiring the perfection of the room,
yet again. Beauty and functionality joined seamlessly to create the perfect
workspace.

Mars glanced up. “It’s
done, but I still need several days to train them properly.”

“I won’t say a word
to Trent.” If he knew Mars had a full staff to wait on him, he’d be back here
in a second. She was pretty certain his agreement to stay at her house was a
knee-jerk reaction he would wiggle out from if given a chance. No way in hell
did he wish to hike and fish. No matter. People in love didn’t have to do
everything together. She’d take him to the Thomas Edison Center instead.

Mars rapped his
fingers, then pointed to the pair of chairs on the other side of his desk.
“Please sit.”

She took the right
one and met his stern gaze.

“Sam’s bar cannot
support him. He requires a fulltime job.”

Why was he telling
her this?

Mars rose and paced before
the window for a long moment. Finally, he stopped and stared at her. “Is it
your intention to get Sam fired?”

“No!”

“Good.” He returned
to his chair and handed her an envelope. “A car and driver awaits downstairs to
take you wherever you wish. There’s two hundred in small bills inside the
envelope to ensure you get home.”

Wow! This has to be
how a new whore feels.

He’d earlier assumed
she’d seduced Trent, and now he thought her after Cranky Sam? “Mars, nothing’s
going on with me and Sam either.”

His expression
remained determined. “That’s not entirely true. Something is going on.
Otherwise, you would not be here.”

“I was hungry. I
hadn’t eaten since yesterday.”

“No city on earth has
more places to feed you per square block than New York.”

She almost protested
she didn’t have any money, but she did. The twenty dollars Sam had given her
and her new business credit card with no limit Trent had surprised her with
yesterday.

“What’s so wrong with
Sam being my friend?”

“It will cost him his
job, and while I believe he needs to move on, the choice must be his, not
Master Trent’s.”

She pushed the
envelope towards him. “I’ll take the car and driver, but I don’t need the
cash.”

“Thank you.” He rose
and escorted her to the front door. Just as they reached it, a loud buzzer went
off.

“Damn it,” he cursed
beneath his breath.

“I’ll take her.” Sam
pulled her back to the servants’ living room and slipped on his driver’s
jacket. “You still have the twenty?”

She nodded.

“I’ll take you down
the freight elevator once I verify Master Trent isn’t going to need me. If he
does, Mars will lead you out.”

“I remember the way.”

“Good, then get out
while Mars and I play our subservient roles.”

“Sam,” a familiar voice
bellowed. Sam hurried to the beck and call of Master Trent.

Carrie froze when she
heard a detestable chime of laughter. Despite all the promises she’d just made,
she crept to the door Sam had just gone through and opened it a crack.

Coco had her arms around
Trent’s neck, her body pressed against him. Carrie could not see his face, but
without question his arms circled the bitch’s waist.

A part of her wanted
to burst inside and confront him, but it wouldn’t change the truth and might
even get Sam and possibly Mars fired. She made her way to the two locked doors
which thankfully could be opened without a key. Her heart pounded in her chest,
as if she’d barely escaped alive.