Paying Her Debt (3 page)

“Just what?”

His voice was deadly, and the words Andy wanted to say died in
her throat. She opened and closed her mouth, fumbling around for some idea what
to do. Could she really stand here and tell this man the truth? Adrenaline
flooded her, and she bit down hard on the inside of her cheek.
Surely a
little shame is worth it, Andy, to keep your job? To pay those fucking debts.

“You were going to explain yourself?” Iannou prompted. “I’m eager
to hear it. Give me some reason to excuse your behavior.”

Andy shook her head. All the little speeches died a quick death.
Iannou stood over her by several inches and with his arms crossed over his
chest he was the most forbidding man Andy had ever seen. How could she possibly
explain the fuck up that was her life to him?
There’s only so much shame one
woman can take.

He waited, glaring at her, whilst the other man watched silently.
“I’m sorry.” She said. It was inadequate, stupid—but nothing else came to mind.
More than anything Andy wanted to curl away in a corner and cry. The tears
she’s held at bay for the last year were threatening with an intensity the
likes of which she’d never felt before.
Not in front of him
, her mind
screamed.
You promised yourself you’d never cry in front of a man again
.

“Where is the employee lounge?”

Blinking away the treacherous moisture, Andy pointed in the
direction of the staff area. Iannou made to take her wrist, clearly to steer
her in its direction, but the moment his skin touched hers Andy jumped and
pulled away.
What the hell was that?
“I know the way,” she protested, confounded
by the odd spark jumping along her skin.

Ignoring her words he grasped her upper arm, where the thin
fabric of her shirt was enough to prevent their skin touching, and dragged her
along with him. He opened the door to the employee lounge with an audible thud.
“Which is your locker?”

Andy’s heart dropped to her feet and despite herself she could
feel the tears pooling. She wrenched herself out of his grasp and moved towards
her locker. “It’s that one.”

His intention was obvious and Andy had more pride than to allow
him to humiliate her any further.
But the debts.
She cut that thought
off with the same ruthlessness she used with other depressing ones. She
wouldn’t think about that now, she’d think about it later, once the whole
awfulness of this situation faded ever so slightly.

“I’ll just get my things.” Andy opened her locker door and grabbed
the handle of her bag. It was huge—had to be to contain all multiple uniforms—and
as always, got itself stuck in the narrow locker. She gave it a good tug, and
it hit the floor, its contents spilling everywhere.

Andy felt the color flood her face again and bent down
immediately to pick everything up.
Oh my God, is that a tampon?
Yes, of
course it was, and it rolled directly in front of his feet.
He also bent
down, picking up the thin packet, and depositing it in her open bag. Andy’s
eyes caught his, and for one moment, they locked. An odd feeling fizzed through
her body, her cheeks burned, and the weird adrenaline spiked. Looking quickly
away Andy did not think she could be any more embarrassed, because despite the
awfulness of the situation, it suddenly occurred to her what the fizzle was.  

Alexander Iannou was devastatingly good-looking. Her over-frazzled
brain hadn’t had time to take it in earlier, but it took it in now, and she
shivered slightly. His hair was inky black, his skin tanned and smooth, and
those eyes… she gulped.  They were the darkest brown she had ever seen. Her
nipples hardened, and her pussy clenched, and Andy almost jumped in shock. Such
reactions were not normal for her, shockingly handsome or not.

He straightened up, his arms crossed over his wide chest, an odd
look on his face, almost like he was surprised. But how could he be. Andy
suspected every woman he met fell at his feet.

Andy took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and looked down at
her bag. Her maid’s uniform spilled out the side, the name tag obvious.

“Moonlighting, too?” Iannou asked.

Gritting her teeth, Andy stuffed the uniform back in the bag, on
top of everything else. Iannou would never understand the necessity of having
two jobs. How could he? The man was richer than fucking Croseus.

“I’ll just get the rest of my stuff….” Andy scrambled around on
the floor, her whole body burned with shame, as she gathered up notebooks and
keys. She had a nasty suspicion that her skirt was riding up her thighs again,
so she batted it down. She hoped neither he, nor the other man who’d now joined
them, noticed.

Bag packed, Andy stood up and eyed both men warily. Her heart thumped
like a metronome, and she felt ever so slightly sick. This was her last chance
to plead her case—she wished she didn’t have to, not least because of how
jittery he made her feel. Y
ou’ve been more shamed in the past, Andy, more
humiliated than this.
And wasn’t that the truth but
now, more than
ever, it occurred to her she was at about her limit.

“You have nothing to say?” he asked, as if reading her mind. “Any
way to explain yourself? Or are you just going to take your things and run off?”

Andy would have liked nothing better than to have an explanation
but nothing came to her overwrought mind. She clamped her lips shut, desperate
to hold in the panic that was threatening.
Jesus Christ, say something Andy!
“It would never happen again,” she whispered.

“But why did it in the first place?” he prompted.

Tell him about the debts. Tell him.
But she couldn’t. For
a year, Andy had spoken to no one about that awful time. How could she break
that vow with him? The most forbidding, and damn it, attractive man she’d ever met.
She just couldn’t.

“I was a stupid mistake.” The words came out as nothing more than
a faint whisper, and Andy knew she’d lost whatever chance she might have had.

His mouth hardened, the angry glint in his eye becoming even more
pronounced. “You sleep on your own time, Miss Jones, not mine.”

Clamping her lips together again, Andy handed across the employee
card, the one that gave access to the staff area. She asked one final question
even though it humiliated her to do so.

“I know I’m fired, Mr. Iannou. I know I deserve it, but will I
still be paid for the last month?” The store paid on the basis of a month in
arrears. You worked a month in hand and were paid at the beginning of the next
month. Andy could not afford to lose that money—due next week. She wouldn’t be
able to eat without it.

He eyed her carefully, and Andy felt like he was evaluating her
from inside to out. “Your contract states that if you are fired you lose that
month’s wages. I know this, Miss Jones, because I wrote that contract up myself.”

“But—”

“You signed the contract, did you not?”

Andy nodded tightly. It would be pointless to speak. He’d
interrupt her again no doubt. Tears once again pricked her eyes, and she tried
desperately to keep them inside.
The debts, the debts...don’t think about
that now!
She couldn’t. Only the control she’d built over the last years
was keeping her from crying like a baby. Thinking about a month without any
money would be enough to break that control.

“Excuse me then.” She slung her heavy bag over her shoulder,
narrowly avoiding hitting him with it—though God knows she’d have liked to—and
strode towards the door.

“Miss Jones, if you’ll just wait a moment—” But for once, Andy
had the pleasure of interrupting him. She already knew what he was going to say.

“I know my way out, Mr. Iannou, don’t worry.”

 Anger, embarrassment, and humiliation flooded her, burning her
face. The dizziness she’d felt in the store a few hours earlier was threatening
a return, and Andy knew the only way to get ahold of herself was to take refuge
in defiance.
Chin up girl and take some pride with you.
 

“I’d like to say it’s been nice working for you,” she began. The words
dripped with the last little bit of defiance she had left. “Only it hasn’t. The
uniforms are ridiculous, the staffing arrangements stupid, and the whole
premise of your store insulting.”

His mouth fell open, and Andy heard the other man gasp. She
pulled the door open blinking the tears away.  It would hurt later, no doubt
about it—once the worry set in, but for now, she felt like she’d kept a tiny
bit of her pride.

Yes, she’d burnt her bridges, well and bloody truly, but she
could see one tiny lining on the silver cloud.

Six hours sleep. She’d worry when she woke.

Chapter
Four

Alex dropped down onto the sofa in his hotel room. It squeaked
slightly as if resenting his presence, and he shot it a dark look.
It’s not
my fault she fell asleep!

The day had gone from bad to worse, ever since he’d found that
little waif snoozing away in his loading bay. Of course he’d had no choice but
to fire her—she’d pretty much fired herself—and George agreed with him to let
her go. An employee sleeping on the job? It was far below the standard of
behavior he expected from his staff.

He’d informed the management of course and to his surprise the
assistant manager, an unassuming guy named Rick, pleaded the girl’s case.
She
was a valued employee, had done nothing to suggest such behavior was normal,
going through a difficult time, etc.
Alex ignored the man’s pleading. It
was only now, that he was alone, he’d begun to wonder if perhaps he’d been a
little too harsh.

Maybe she was going through a hard time? Certainly she hadn’t
looked very well. He replayed the moment he’d seen her, and from the
perspective of a few hours distance, he could admit that she’d looked, frankly,
done in. Her fiery locks were pulled into a lank braid, her hair looking dull
and lifeless. Her emerald eyes were barely noticeable thanks to the two smudges
of black beneath them. Proof perhaps, of her tiredness? And she was thin. He
frowned. Too thin? It was so hard to tell these days whether a woman was thin
because she thought it looked good—which for the record it didn’t—or because
she was getting enough nourishment. Why was he suddenly getting a nasty
suspicion that it was the later?

Regret, something he was not used to feeling, simmered though him,
and he found himself second guessing his decision. It seemed so simple at the
time. Employee not following his rules equals employee no more, but maybe in
this case it wasn’t so clear cut? Even as he’d steered her towards the employee
lounge something stirred, a slight suggestion perhaps that he should slow down
and think for a moment. But he’d been so angry, so disbelieving that on his
first visit to his new store he’d found a sleeping employee. And then she’d
been so embarrassed, so red-faced he’d found himself floundering, unsure what
to do. Every time he’d tried to say something, she’d jumped in with her own
assumptions and before he’d known what was happening she was out the
door—insulting his store on the way.

He grabbed a glass from the side table and poured himself a
drink, swallowing the fiery liquid down in one go. It burned the back of his
throat, and he coughed slightly. He rarely drunk, but today seemed to be a
first for many things.

He couldn’t give her the job back of course, that wouldn’t be
possible. It would condone her behavior and might make other employees take
liberties. But the least he could do was to ensure she received her month’s
pay. Not that she deserved it! The girl had a tongue like an adder, but if she
was in a bad situation, he didn’t want to compound that. Alex was not a
monster, and he hadn’t built one of the fastest growing companies in the world
by not thinking things through. Besides he wanted to know exactly what she’d
meant by her insults. To suggest something was wrong with his perfect business?
He shook his head. The girl didn’t know what she was talking about, and he
would enjoy setting her right.

He dropped the glass back down on the table and stretched his
legs.
What is it about the girl that’s bothering you?
Alex didn’t
understand it. He made a decision, and he followed it through. That was his way
and it had served him well. He had everything he ever wanted. Flourishing businesses,
several homes—nothing was out of his reach. And yet he couldn’t get the little
waif out of his mind. The guilt at his actions so palpable it was ridiculous.
Getting
soft, Andros, getting soft.

It wasn’t as if she was even beautiful. Had he desired her, Alex
could understand his feelings. Beautiful women had a way of making a man forget
what was right, of wrapping him up and making him behave like an idiot. But she
was far from that. Too thin, too pale. No, he didn’t want her in that way.
So
what’s making you feel like this?

Alex stuffed his hands in his pockets, brooding on the situation.
A jolt of panic hit him and suddenly he realized what else it was that had been
preying on his consciousness for the last several hours—besides Miss Jones.

He cursed and bolted upright.

Where the hell was his wallet? He patted down his suit jacket and
pulled the pockets from his trousers.
Dios, Nothing
. Panic skittered
along his spine, and he wracked his mind trying to remember the last time he’d
seen it.
Just before entering the store, before you found the waif….

It came to him. The obviousness of what had happened—like a
remembered dream. He couldn’t explain why he knew it to be true, but he did.
Certainty filled him and he cursed again.

The girl….
Aghast, he ran his fingers through his hair,
playing the scene out in his mind. He’d bent down to pick up her tampon, trying
in some way to ease the embarrassment he saw quite clearly on her face. His
wallet must have fallen out—that was the only explanation, right into her open
bag!