Chapter 7: First Real Day

I walk into Ocean Tech feeling small. Maybe it's because I had to ditch the heels and wear flats. Maybe it's because I only had enough time to find a new shirt to pair with the same slacks from yesterday. Maybe it's because I can't shake the overwhelming feeling that I've sold my soul to Saz for the second time in my life. The security gates fall with a flick of my badge, and I walk forward to face my doom. The elevator dings and all too soon I'm back face-to-face with those oak doors. Last night feels more like a dream than an actual experience. The banquet of food left me in a happy little food coma by the end of the night. Did he really feel the need to walk me all the way to my door? Like I haven't walked home by myself before. I take a deep breath and grab the handle, creaking open the massive door to my first day as a research assistant.

Saz stands busy at his desk wearing a long-sleeve button-up and staring at the papers spread across his desk. His jacket is draped across the back of his chair, the morning sun gleaming off the white shirt outlining his arms. He removes the pencil tucked behind his ear and looks up, his lips curving into a smile as he sees me.

"Allie. You made it."

He stands up and walks over, extending his hand. I shake it firmly, locking my eyes with him. "Did you think I wasn't going to show?"

"It was a gamble," he admits, motioning me to follow him. "Let me show you your new desk." He eagerly walks over and presents a desk on the far left of the room. He pulls out the chair. "Come on. I don't bite. Hard."

A nervous laugh escapes me, and I cross over to my new desk, sitting in the plush office chair. I look up and see a sleek new computer screen staring back at me. I have the perfect view of the bay and Saz's desk all at once. I look down and notice a pencil holder with fun erasers and colored mechanical pencils inside. Just like the kind that I had in high school. I take one with a smiling strawberry and smell it.

"Strawberries." I look back at him. "Did you remember my pencil case too?"

"I just wanted you to feel welcomed." He smiles. "Let me show you some of the tools you're going to be using. Here." He leans over my shoulder, reaching for the mouse. Of course, the only shirt I could find on short notice had to have low sleeves. The warmth of his arm leaning up against my bare shoulder radiates across my entire body. Why did he feel the need to be so close? Does he not understand personal space? Or is it because of the history we share that he feels like he can touch me whenever he wants? I want to put him in his place and tell him to stop using me as a human crutch, but every slight movement he makes sends sparks down my body. He scrolls through various programs and databases. Pearl this. Java that. My mind is barely keeping up with all the terms he's using.

"Oh." He releases my shoulder, his hand reaching for something farther down my body. He bends down and opens a drawer from the desk. Was he preparing something? His hand rests on the arm of the chair and he takes out a manila folder. "The project is called Operation Waterpark. Lame name I know, but I'm open to suggestions if you come up with any."

He holds it out to me and stands up. I numbly take the folder from his hands and open it up, hiding the burning shame steaming off my face. What is wrong with me? This is the same thing that happened yesterday in the car. I need to get a grip and stop acting like this. He's my boss for crying out loud.

Saz laughs and peeks over the folder. "I appreciate your passion, but you don't have to absorb all this information in one day. Take the day to get familiar with the project. Organize yourself and come up with a list of ideas to present to me by the end of today."

I drop the folder away from my face, now composed enough to speak. "Are there any specific parts of the project that are giving you trouble?"

"I tabbed the sections that have less information on them than I would like. Start with those."

He's all business. The soft nature that he held last night at dinner is still there, but something else is there too. A man who takes charge, who knows what he wants and gets it, no questions asked.

I nod and look back at the different tabs open on the desktop. Saz nods back and walks back towards the papers on his desk. I crack my knuckles and begin the task at hand, studying files and programs like a madwoman. An hour passes. I glance up at Saz who stands over his desk deep in thought. He's immersed in a world all his own. Just like when he was in school. The oak doors bang open. I turn to see a curvy blonde in a solid green dress, her arm strapped with a designer handbag with shoes to match. I remember her face from the employee profile page. Zelia Riviera. The daughter of the CEO. Zelia walks right up to Saz and kisses his cheek.

"You work too much, you know that."

He grabs her hands and gives her a quick kiss. "Well soon, I'll have a bit more free time. Zelia, I'd like you to meet my new research assistant, Allie Demarco."

She looks my way as if noticing me for the first time. "Oh. Hi there. She's cute." I wave back, but she turns back to Saz as if I'm a show that just lost her interest. "Ready to go to lunch?"

Saz looks at his watch with a chuckle. "It's ten-thirty in the morning."

"Yeah, and we have a car waiting for us downstairs to go to that little spot in Palm Beach for reservations at noon. You promised we'd go today."

Saz glances at me from across the room as I snicker. Another little place, huh? Zelia looks back at me, annoyed. "I don't see what's so funny. Maybe you should stay focused over there. Okay, Demarco?"

My face falls, eyes ablaze and ready to set her on fire. Saz spins Zelia to face him completely and works his charm.

"I'm so sorry I forgot my love. Let me just clean up this mess and we can be on our way."

"Just have her clean it. After all, what do we hire the help for?"

Zelia glances at me over her shoulder before kissing Saz, cupping his face in her hands. I avert my gaze and go back to typing. Where Saz can live all over the world and still have the courtesy to ask about a man's family, this Zelia woman seems to have been raised by ignorant Miami snobs and can't seem to see past her own entitlement. Lovely choice Saz. You guys should do great together if you just focus on the dollar signs in her eyes. A girl like me just can't compete with dollar signs.

Zelia pulls away and struts back across the room, pushing the doors out of her way without another word. Saz quickly straightens up his desk before grabbing his jacket. "I'm sorry that Zelia talked to you that way. I will have a talk with her about it in the car."

I nod, unsure what to say that wouldn't make the situation worse. She was rich and I clearly shopped out of the bargain bin. Saz leaves out the doors and the office automatically feels larger without him in it. Like I'm not supposed to be here. I sigh and return to my work, my curiosity for his love life officially leaving out the door behind him.