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I toy with that idea while I finish my tea and go take a hot shower. I run my hands over my body, remembering how he touched me. He was so rugged and manly, plying my body to his will. I sigh softly in the shower and swallow hard, drooling slightly at the thought of having him again.
I wonder if he would?
Maybe I could pull him aside at work tomorrow to see if maybe there was something or if this was just a one time thing, something we did while we were drunk and was never to be repeated.
I suddenly feel nervous. What if that’s all it was? I dry my body as I try to think of the right words I can use to say to him without sounding like an idiot. Eventually though, I’m too exhausted to think so I decide to head to bed. I sink into my blankets and Miko curls up near my head. It doesn’t take two breaths and I pass out.
I try not to think about JJ on my commute to work. I don’t want to think about him because I am so confused. I don’t know what he expects, a relationship or a one night stand, and even more confusing is that I don’t know what I want. It just happened and it was amazing, but I’m still healing from Jason, and I don’t know JJ well enough.
I shift my focus to my work. I am busy designing a big piece for an out of town client who is coming in today to do it. It’s pretty much done, but I feel like something is missing. I take out my phone and open the last photo I took of the design. The client liked it, but I still felt it was off somehow. Call it designer’s intuition.
I stare at the perfect skull in the center at the top, ribbons flowing down the side with a day of the dead woman’s face underneath the small skull. There are skeleton ravens flying away from her and I’ll add splashes of colour in the empty spaces to fill those. At the bottom I have a ribbon banner running underneath that says ‘SOME THINGS DIE AND DON’T STAY DEAD.’ Apparently it’s from one of his favourite authors and he wanted something unique designed for it. I read the book in question to get a feel for what he would like, and it was a good book for someone who wasn’t traditionally published; if you’re a horror fan she’s the kind of author people would enjoy.
It clicks in my brain as I think and I smile to myself. I know exactly what’s missing. I have just the face and neck of the day of the dead girl, but in that space to the right of her face I need a hand. It’ll look like a normal hand, with a skeleton tattooed on top of it like artwork. It’ll look amazing!
Satisfied, I put my phone away and look around. It’s my stop and I get up and climb down the stairs. The studio is already unlocked when I get there, and there are two clients waiting patiently outside. I greet them with a smile before I head inside and start setting up my booth. I take out the design and start working on the hand immediately.
The clients are let in while I’m busy and my artists attend to them. I’m so sucked into finishing this design that I don’t realise that Sheldon has been standing behind me for some time trying to get my attention. Only once I am done do I see him and jump slightly.
“Sheldon! You gave me a fright!”
“Sorry Lyra, it’s just, you told me to take messages for you.” He swallows.
“Don’t be scared, be confident Sheldon,” I comment with a smile, “What’s the message?”
“It’s from JJ, he says he can’t come in today. He needs to take a sick day.” He turns and leaves to go back to reception as another client walks in, and I feel my stomach sink. What the actual fuck?
Was having sex with me so bad that he can’t even look me in the eyes today? Sick? Please! He’s making fucking excuses. My sinking feeling turns to anger, anger at how stupid and immature he is being. He’s not sick, he’s hungover and he doesn’t want to deal with the aftermath of sleeping with his boss. Well, he has no fucking choice.
I reach for my cell phone and search for his number, dialing it and pacing in my booth as it rings.
“Lyra?” JJ answers, recognizing my name.
“JJ,” I say coldly, “What’s this bullshit that you’re not coming in?”
“I asked Sheldon to let you know I need a sick day,” he says calmly, “I’ll probably be in tomorrow.”
“Everyone is hungover, JJ,” I snap, “But everyone is at work. Get over yourself and get your ass here. You don’t get to take a sick day for whatever entitled reason you think you have.” I hope he gets my meaning; having sex with me doesn’t give him any special privileges.
“Lyra,” JJ says quietly, but I cut him off.
“I mean it, if you skip work today because you’re hungover, you’re fired.”
“I signed a contract,” he says and I can hear the anger rising in his voice.
“And in your contract it states that I have the right to terminate your employment if you give me reason to. Skipping work for no reason is more than enough for me to kick your ass out of here. Either come get your stuff or come work. Pick one.”
I hang up, feeling smug and satisfied with myself. I am happy that I put him in his place and that he knows who is boss here, no matter what transpired between us. He mustn’t think that this once-off thing between us warrants him anything other than the orgasm he got last night.
I watch the time pass. I don’t know how far away JJ lives, so I’m not sure how long he will take to get here. I decide to give him an hour and a half because I’m feeling generous, but if he’s not in by then, I will pack his shit into a box and throw it outside.
I decide to do stock take while I wait, wanting to keep myself busy. JJ might come in guns blazing, and there might be confrontation and I want to steel myself for that. I need to stand my ground so that the other artists know I’m not to be trifled with. No matter what happens with JJ, whether he stays or goes, I need to ensure that I stick to my guns and set an example.
I hear the door open and close and hear JJ greet the others as he walks in. I take a deep breath and stride out of the back room to see him, stopping dead in my tracks when I see who is with him.
He has walked in holding the hand of a little girl, she must be seven or eight, and from the resemblance she is unmistakably his. She looks miserable though, there are dark circles underneath her eyes and her face is flushed, and I realize that when JJ needed a sick day it wasn’t for him, it was for her. And I feel like absolute shit now. All the fight I had in me, all the anger and defiance, is gone and replaced with a huge amount of guilt.
The artists who are not busy with clients all rush to coo over the little girl and JJ smiles at them appreciatively, but he doesn’t look in my direction. He hasn’t acknowledged my presence at all.
