THE Phone Call...

In hindsight I really shouldn't have let my Grandma talk to Mr. Payne. I will admit that is my fault knowing how she is with...people, but he didn't have to react in that manner. Who brings a woman to the point of orgasm and then walks away like nothing happened? Assholes, that’s whom!

“Grandma answer up! What did you say to Mr. Payne?”

“Sweets it was nothing really.”

I stand, too ramped up on hormones to sit. Taking a deep breath I try to calmly talk to my grandmother.

“You obviously said something.”

“Did that man diddle with your middle?”

How...how on earth does she know?

“What?” The high pitched reaction does a poor job at covering my surprise.

“Oh sweets, he did. I warned him not to do that. Your Mr. Payne seems like a sweet young man, I don’t want him to be hurt by you.”

My hormones dissipate and confusion takes over. I lean back on my desk that only minutes ago helped in the sexual unification of two warring parties. Maybe we aren't at war, but he does piss me off more than Russia ever irritated the United States, just saying.

“Warned him? What did you say Grandma?”

“I told him you are a challenge. No man has conquered your Himalaya. Finally I told him I would be surprised if a man, even one as nice as him, could take you. Oh and I think I told him to imagine Taming of the Shrew, something along those lines.”

“You called me a shrew? Grandma, first of all men have concurred my ‘Himalaya’ as you call it. I told you I...AM...NOT...A...LESBIAN! Secondly and most important you made me out to be some barbaric cave woman who needs a man to bat her over the head with a club. I love you Grandma but please don’t set me up as a sexual challenge to my boss. I don’t need help getting laid. Jesus! I never thought I would be having this conversation with my grandmother.”

I can hear her sigh on the other end.

“If you didn't want me to help you Morgana, then why did you have me talk to him?”

“I thought you would stick up for me like you always do. Tell him not to treat me so bad, that sort of thing. Instead you made it sound like he should be afraid of me.”

“Trust me sweets what I said helped even if you can’t see it now. I have to go. My tanks running low. Need to find gas before I run out. I don’t want to be stuck in the desert.”

“I thought you were in Wyoming?”

“No not until spring. Staying down south for the winter. Love you sweets. And don’t worry about your Mr. Payne. I think he will wise up soon enough. Are you sure it’s Mr. Payne and not Ms. Payne because even though he has a deep voice I know hormonal treatments can do that to a...”

“Bye Grandma, love you.”

I hang up before she continues on her quest to turn me gay. I can become gay as well as a homosexual can turn straight. Putting the phone into my purse I decide to call it a night. Before I leave I pick up the pink post-it’s scattered on the floor. Most of them are the usual stuff about client meetings, etc. The last one I grab states that I need to pick up his dry cleaning and deliver it to his home. It has the address of the cleaners and his home address on the back.

Really? I will get his paperwork. I will read his emails. I will even get his coffee, but I won’t pick up his dry cleaning. I am not his personal assistant. He needs to be reminded that I work for Mimir, not just him. If he needs a favor from me to do his personal fetching then he should have thought about that before teasing me to the point of orgasm and then walking away.

I crumple the note in my fist; snatch my coat and purse before marching to the elevators.

“Lucy, you have some splaning to do!” I yell at the open elevator door and walk inside pushing the 28 button.

Once I’m on the 28th floor I head toward his office and see his door slightly ajar with light filtering out. His voice floats out as I get closer.

“Is he okay, just let me know?”

My body goes rigid and comes to a halt as I notice the hurt in his voice.

“He’s breathing. Oh thank god. Was the surgery successful?”

I creep closer to the door without making my presence known. Yes, I know I am eavesdropping but wouldn't you? This is like something out of a soap opera.

There are a lot of “uh uh’s” coming from him.

“Well, when will he wake?”

I sense a sneeze coming on and pinch my nose to hold it back. It doesn't work and it feels like my head imploded. Luckily he didn't hear anything. Unluckily I don’t have a tissue and keep rubbing my nose on my scarf.

“He’s in a coma? You never said anything about a coma?”

My curiosity is going crazy and I have to whip it back like an old fashioned lion tamer.

“Wait. Wait a minute. So, there is a chance he may never wake up? I came to you because you are the best Neurosurgeon in this country and now you are telling me, not only may David never walk again but he may never wake up?”

Oh god! I look at the crinkled paper in my hand. Suddenly picking up his dry cleaning doesn't seem like a chore anymore. I drop the paper on the floor feeling like a selfish ass.

My thoughts are interrupted with a loud crash coming from inside his office. Then another crash followed by a large boom. I race inside to see Mr. Payne’s chest moving up and down wildly as he stands by an overturned chair. There is a fern that is no longer in its pot lying in the corner and next to it his phone scattered in several pieces.

“Mr. Payne are you alright?”

His eyes flicker an intense gaze at me. Without a word he turns his back and strolls casually past his desk to the wall of windows putting his hands in his trouser pockets.

“Ms. Drake please contact housekeeping and arrange to have someone clean this up.”

“Of course sir. But are you alright?”

He turns to face me and gives a tiny chuckle which I barely hear.

“No Ms. Drake I’m not alright. I haven’t been alright for a long time. Now just go home and have a restful weekend. I’ll see you first thing on Monday.”

Did he just tell me to have a restful weekend? That is so...nice. Woo, something is seriously wrong if he is being pleasant to me. This isn't right. I’ll talk to him; bring him back from the edge he is nearing.

“Mr. Payne something is obviously bothering you. I hear it helps to talk about it?”

His shoulders tense as his gaze narrows causing me to suck in my breath. Even with his hair disheveled and muscles tight from stress the man is still sexy as hell.

“I am not seeing a fucking therapist!”

Wow, cowboy! No need to get eye stabby.

“No, I mean me. Sometimes we need someone to just listen as we let it out.”

For the first time since I have ever known Mr. Payne he looks vulnerable. There is a moment when the expression he flashes is one of innocence and hurt, but it quickly disappears being replaced by his usual. Derek Zoolander has Blue Steel, well Henrik Payne has Dark Thunder. Made that one up myself!

Dark Thunder intimidates people and causes some to cry in fear, but for me it makes me smile. Because I know it’s his little protective barrier to the world. Everyone has a shield of some kind that helps them deal with things they are afraid of, it’s what humans do. This is Mr. Payne’s safety blanket and it’s telling me he’s okay, for now at least. Though it would make me feel better if he confided in someone.

“You are my assistant, not my therapist.”

“Yes, you made that quite clear down stairs in the Sales department.”

He winces and walks over to the couch to sit. Mr. Payne sighs placing his head in his hands to scrub his face and then lays it back so he is staring at the ceiling.

“Yeah, about that. I’m sorry Ms. Drake. I have a bit of a problem when challenged.”

I walk over and sit down on the other end of the couch and arrange myself to face him.

“So that’s why you did it because you were challenged by my Grandma?”

He turns, bringing his leg up on the couch to face me and rests his head in his hand. Mr. Payne smiles a devastatingly handsome smile.

“That’s partly why Ms. Drake.”