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He eyes me suspiciously. “Where did Zav find you?”
I roll my eyes. “I used to take his coffee order.”
“And now you’re here?”
I nod.
“When I ask you a question, use your words to answer me, Savannah. Let’s try that again. And now you’re here?”
“Yes,” I force out. “Is that better?” I flutter my eyelashes at him.
“Much better,” he growls. “Don’t forget who’s the boss.”
His tone pisses me off. I don’t care if he is the boss; I’m not his little bitch.
I stand up and walk around to his side of the desk. I perch on the edge of it, right opposite him. My skirt rides up a little, and it doesn’t go unnoticed.
“I am not your child. Don’t demean me like that again,” I order.
He looks at me like he wants to devour me, but I don’t know if it is lust or anger. He leans closer and whispers, “You need someone to teach you some fucking manners.”
There is a thrumming everywhere in my body. It’s a pulse that is getting erratic the closer we get.
“Is that going to be you?” I whisper back.
His hand grips my thighs with force. “I’ll fuck the manners into you. I’ll have you sayingpleaseandthank youover and over again,” he murmurs.
Iwhimperat his threat. I can’t work in proximity with this man. It will kill me.
A voice forces us away before I can think of a witty comeback.
“What is happening here?” Xavier looks between us with wary.
I can only imagine it looks exactly like it is – me with my skirt ridden up and him sat between my legs, our hot breath mixing as we fight our urges.
Huxley sits taller and pushes his chair away from me. “Just reminding Savannah about boundaries and limits in the workplace.”
I give Xavier a smile. “Yeah, Huxley was telling meexactlywhat he wants from me. You know me,” I laugh, “always following the rules.”
6
“Howareyou,Savannah?”
I smile at Nurse Edith before giving her the baked goods I picked up on the way. “Exhausted. You working mornings or nights this week?”
“Nights. Wish me luck!”
I chuckle at her as I walk away. I know this nursing home like the back of my hand. I have been here every other day for four years. The place before this was horrid: grey walls, a draft that never seemed to go away, mean nurses, and food fit for a prison. Moving to this place is worth every penny.
The home doesn’t smell like a hospital or death. The murals painted by the patients bring joy and light every time I walk past them. There are numerous activities and day trips for the patients. And the food isn’t half bad!
I knock on her door before entering. She is sitting in her reading chair, staring out of the window. She doesn’t notice me until I tap on her shoulder.
“Hi, mum.”
Her eyes are blank for a few seconds before she smiles. “You’re back. They sent you back!” She leaps out of her chair and squeezes me too tight. “Did those bad men hurt you?” She scans over my body, looking for any wounds.
“Nobody took me, mum. I’ve been busy.”
