Weekends Required (7 page)

“I’m afraid I might have lost my job tonight; he’ll surely fire me.”

“For what? It takes two, and he was just as guilty as you if we’re taking names here. I’ll cover for you if you want to leave,” offered Julie.

“No, I’ll work in the kitchen; though, if it's ok with you, just give me a minute to freshen up.” Giving her another sympathetic look, Julie left the restroom.

~~~

Jason shut the door to the restroom and was glad to escape the prying gaze of Claire’s co-worker. In another few minutes, he would have taken Claire right there against the restroom wall. How could he have possibly overlooked how beautiful she was? Had he never noticed it during the time she worked for him? Apparently he was way too preoccupied at work. Under the shapeless, drab colored clothing was a body any man would kill to possess. Her response, although timid at first, had literally blown him away and her passion seemed to burn as hot as his.

 Was his mouse of an assistant really an experienced woman of the world and a stripper to boot? Although admittedly, she’d not stripped but the line between being a stripper and jumping out of a cake at a bachelor party seemed pretty fine if you asked him. Surely, this violated something in her employment contract. Although this didn’t qualify for the non-compete clause, this must be an ethics violation.

The thought of firing her though and probably never seeing her again strangely held little appeal for him. If she valued her job with Danvers International, she would simply terminate this side job. A strong, unexpected wave of something curiously like jealousy ripped through him at the thought of men looking at her jumping out of that absurd cake at parties such as this one. He would take care of this immediately and heaven help any of his friends who had the bad fortune to make any other lewd comments about her body tonight. From this day forward, Claire would find that weekends at Danvers were a requirement which would leave her little time for anything else.

~~~

Claire made it into the kitchen without running into Jason again. She’d almost expected him to be waiting for her outside the restroom, but the coast was all clear. Julie pressed a glass of something strong and fiery into her hand and told her to drink up. Alcohol was something Claire almost never consumed and this particular one brought tears to her eyes but as instructed she finished it completely. The burn of the drink in her stomach seemed to settle it and her nerves. Julie refilled her glass again, and soon she was feeling much better although maybe a little lightheaded. She was also quite certain she was actually giggling.

All her worries about Jason seemed to melt away, and she was enjoying joking around with the waiters as they came into the kitchen for their next tray. Distantly she was aware that she’d just finished her third drink… Or her fourth, and that maybe she should slow down since it would soon be time to drive home.

Finally, the party was starting to finish up, and Claire gathered her stuff to walk out with Julie. They always escorted each other for safety, and Claire felt herself stumbling on her walk to the car. “Claire, I think I need to drive you home; you’re in no condition,” said a concerned Julie. “Hey Max lives in the Columbia area; you can catch a ride with him, stay right here while I go talk to him.” She assured Julie she would not move, and she leaned against the car waiting for her to return.

She saw a figure walk back towards her, and in her alcohol induced haze it was a male and assumed it was Brian. She walked towards him with an apology on her lips for the inconvenience of the ride and came to an abrupt halt when she recognized not Max but Jason instead. Claire stared at him with what could only be described as a deer in the headlight’s expression. “I thought you were already gone?”

“We’re parked across the road and its taking awhile to get everyone together to leave since a few of the guys have had too much to drink. It looks like you have the same problem, and as we’re going back to Harold’s, I assured your friend Julie that I would see you home.”

“But you can’t,” stammered Claire, “what about your own car?”

“My friends and I rented a car for the evening since alcohol would be involved as anyone responsible would do.” Her cheeks burned at the not too subtle insinuation that she was not responsible. Claire still stood silently, hesitant to get into the car even though it looked churlish to refuse.

Jason seemed to take her silence for agreement and placing his hand on her elbow he effectively steered her towards the passenger seat of her small car. He settled her in the front seat with instructions to buckle up. Jason shut the door and went around to the driver’s side and was forced to adjust the driver’s seat before he could fit his length into the car. The compact size of the car brought them into a much closer proximity than she was comfortable with. Claire reluctantly handed her keys over to Jason and settled herself as close to her door as she could for some much-needed breathing room.

  Chapter Seven

She remained quiet as Jason drove her small car with ease down the now empty streets. The silence was finally broken when Jason sardonically asked, “So not only do you strip, you also have a drinking problem?”

Claire jerked upright indignantly replying, “I told you I’m not a stripper, and I certainly don’t have a drinking problem. If you must know, that part is
your
fault!”

“I’ll play along, how is your drinking my fault?”

“If I’d not been upset from you groping me in the women’s restroom, I would not have resorted to alcohol to settle my nerves,” Claire defended hotly.

Seeing Jason’s mouth tighten into a hard line, Claire feared she may have gone too far in her defense, but what could he expect? He accused her of being a stripper and an alcoholic all in the same sentence. “When you put it out there Claire, you have to expect people will take you at face value. Apparently, you enjoy this type of work, or you’d not spend your spare time doing it. Even going so far as to beg off work under the pretense of visiting family,” continued Jason.

The silence after that last comment seemed to linger as if Jason was waiting for her to defend herself. Her stomach picked that moment to start to rebel, the nausea increasing with every moment that passed. Never being one to drink much alcohol, even in social settings, Claire’s stomach was in protest mode as the churning became harder to ignore. “Can we stop off at the next rest area please?’

“We will be back at Harold’s soon, can’t it wait?” asked an impatient Jason.

“No, it can’t, please pull over at the next opportunity.”

Jason replied in a surprisingly gentle voice, “Just hold on, there’s a rest area coming up soon.” Claire hoped that she would not cap off what was already a humiliating evening by throwing up all over her boss.
He does deserve it though.
She was grateful to see lights up ahead as they approached a rest area. As soon as Jason parked the car, Claire bolted from the seat and out the door.

Thankful that the area was very quiet and deserted due to the late hour, she barely made it into a stall before becoming violently ill. She lost track of time as her stomach continued to heave. Claire was startled to feel someone behind her and realized too late that in her haste, she’d failed to latch the stall. She turned around in shock to see a concerned Jason.

“Let me help you, do you feel like you’re finished?” asked Jason quietly.

Nodding yes, Claire started to leave the stall when yet another wave of sickness overcame her. She jumped back to the toilet as her stomach continued to dry heave. Gentle hands held her hair and began rubbing her back. The kindness was almost her undoing; she felt like collapsing to the floor and crying. Jason patiently stood there soothing her and when at last she could leave the stall, he took a wet paper towel and wiped her face. Too drained to fight it, Claire allowed Jason to help her from the restroom and to a bench near her car.

“Let’s sit outside for a few moments and make sure you’re ready to travel before we start back out.” Claire was surprised when he put his arm around her and urged her head to his shoulder. Maybe some fresh air would help settle her stomach.

~~~

Claire awoke and realized she’d fallen asleep with her head on Jason’s shoulder. It embarrassed her to not only be sleeping at a rest area but also sleeping off a hangover on her boss’s shoulder. She was grateful the darkness hid the color she could feel creeping up her cheeks.
Great, not only does my breath smell like a dead cat, I probably drooled all over his shirt as well.

“Are you feeling better? It’s probably not very safe to continue lingering here in the dark if you’re ready to travel again.”

“I, I’m fine,” said Claire as she tried to smooth her rumpled and stained clothing as best she could. Only being able to imagine her appearance now, Claire hoped this whole evening was simply a bad dream that she would wake up from soon. Jason effortlessly steered back into traffic, and she hoped that her stomach would hold for the rest of the trip.

“So how long have you been in this, shall we say, line of work, Claire? Was this a childhood dream of yours or something you just lucked upon later?”
So much for the softer side of Jason I witnessed at the rest area,
thought Claire, this sarcastic question left no doubt as to whom she was dealing with. She tried her best to ignore the question, turning her head towards the window and letting the silence lengthen. “How does one get into stripping anyway? I’ve always found those life choices fascinating.”

Claire replied angrily “I told you I was not a stripper! I work for a party planning company; I do not strip! Why must you continue to harp on that? I think even you’d notice the difference between someone wearing clothes and someone nude.”

“Oh do excuse me, I apologize for the misunderstanding. I’m sure you can see how confusing it would be to see your assistant jump out of a cake at a bachelor’s party in a gentlemen’s club. Then be driving her home because she’s intoxicated outside of a gentlemen’s club, does any of this sound in the least unusual to you Claire?” asked a sarcastic Jason.

“You’re not my mother; I don’t have to explain or justify my actions to you!” replied Claire hotly.

“Actually, Claire, that’s where you’re wrong; you’re my assistant, and as such you’re a representative of Danvers International as well as of me personally. How do you think this would look to our customers if heaven forbid one of them happens to be at a party where you’re performing?” continued Jason.

“That’s not likely to happen,” exclaimed Claire.

“You never expected to see my best friend and I there tonight either did you? That just shows how small the world truly is Claire.”

“You can’t fire me for having outside employment, my contract only states working for direct competition, and I think we can safely rule out that being a problem.”

“If you’d bothered to read your entire contract, you’d find a section about behavior unbecoming of an associate of Danvers and I feel sure that stripping would indeed fall into that category,” Jason replied dryly.

For probably the first time in her life, Claire felt she was entirely capable of violence against another. Having to sit beside Jason in the tight confines of her car while he labeled her as a stripper once again was enough to make someone as calm and mild mannered as her want to reach across the seats and slap him on his smug face. She was in no shape to fight this battle with Jason tonight and win so she settled down further in the seat and closed her eyes pretending to sleep.

Luckily, Jason seemed to be willing to let the matter drop for now. No doubt he was busy thinking up his next reference to stripping. Claire fearfully wondered what she would possibly do if Jason was correct about her contract, and she doubted very seriously if he was bluffing about that.

She was barely making ends meet now with both jobs and there was no way she would be able to find another part-time job with the flexible hours and generous pay that Partiez Plus provided. Without the extra income, she would be forced to sell her mother’s home and find a live-in facility for her. The tears gathered in the corner of her eyes and she prayed that Jason wouldn’t notice.

~~~

Jason was powerless to stop the flow of self-righteous comments that continued to flow from his mouth. Even though he seemed to have no shortage of disparaging remarks to make to her, he was still reeling from the evening. The shock of realizing that the beautiful, sexy, sultry woman that he was unable to take his eyes off of when she’d popped out of the cake was, in fact, his assistant had just blown him away. Never one to spare more than a passing glance at women he considered too obvious, he was completely captivated when Claire had looked at him after jumping from the cake.

He knew those green eyes; he knew the curve of her face, and his body seemed to put it all together before his mind could catch up. The most surprising aspect had been the protective instinct that had almost immediately kicked in along with the recognition. He wanted to run up and drag her behind him until he could cover her up. He wanted to punch anyone in the crowd that dared look at her, including his friends.

Who would have thought that he would be standing in a bathroom stall with his assistant holding her hair back while she retched? At that moment with her obviously in distress, all he wanted to do was take care of her, make every bad thing in her life disappear. She was so small and trusting curled against his chest while she slept at the rest area. This certainly was a night of firsts for him.

Sparing a quick glance at her, he was surprised to see a small hand reach up to her face and quickly wipe what appeared to be a tear from her cheek.
Good job Jason, way to make a lady cry.
Feeling something inside his chest clench, Jason vowed to find out more about this other life that his assistant was living. Who was the real Claire and why was he suddenly so desperate to have that question answered?