His Forever

2

"Miss, are you alright?"

A man in an all-black suit made his way from the driver's side to me. He lowered to the ground to help me get my balance as I tried to sit up. For a split second, I almost could not remember what had happened, but the bruise on my right ankle and the redness of my sore knee served as a good reminder that I was almost run over by a car. At least the driver was polite enough to check on me. 

"Are you okay Miss?" He asked again after I did not respond the first time. "Do you need me to call emergency services?" 

I opened my mouth to tell him that I was fine and that I didn't need emergency services. I could not afford to be late for this meeting. But before I could get the words out, I was interrupted rudely by the voice of another man. More commanding, deeper, and bolder. 

"That would not be necessary Liam," He said as he made his way to us from the car. When he stood in front of us, the first thing I noticed was that he was really hot. And 'boy oh boy' he was blazing hot. 

 His long legs were proof of how tall he was, and I knew it was not because I was on the floor. His large muscles and broad shoulders were well trapped in a Blue well-tailored three-piece suit. As the first man helped me to my feet, his features became even clear. A handsome face with a strong and chiseled jaw that could cut glass. Golden tanned skin with blue irises that would make anyone drool. This man had a face that could make angels weep. His black hair was tousled in a way that made me imagine running my hands through it while he did unspeakable things to me. 

He looked rich and powerful, and his entire aura oozed authority and power. It radiated from him.

He also looked awfully familiar, but I just could not figure where I had met him. I stood there moping as I imagined all the things he could do to me with his body pressed against mine. Here I was shamelessly ogling a total stranger right in front of him. Ronnie had told me last week that I had to get laid, and maybe he was not so wrong.

Someone cleared their throat loudly, maybe 'hot' or 'nice' stranger, and I snapped out of my fantasy world back to reality. I lost my balance, and 'nice' stranger reached out to hold me from falling back to the ground. 

"I'm fine, thanks," I said to 'nice' stranger. 

"Of course you are." 'Hot' stranger said, and I didn't miss the hint of annoyance and sarcasm in his tone.

"Excuse me?" I retorted 

"You heard me. Do you usually cross busy streets while texting, or is it a special occasion today?" Why did all handsome guys have to be such jerks? 

By now, 'nice stranger' had stepped back with his arms crossed in front of him, and I realized that he was the driver. I couldn't believe the nerve of this guy. I was the one that almost got hit by his driver, and he was going to push the blame to me?

 "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know Manhattan now runs on maniacal drivers and car owners out to maim innocent road crossers with outrageously high-speed," I replied with a scowl. 

He opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it and closed his mouth back. With an expressionless look, he turned to the driver and said: "Liam, find out if she has any major injuries. If she does, give her some money to fix it and then get back to the car. I have more important things that require my attention." 

Nice stranger whose name I had just figured was Liam just nodded, and with that, he turned around to the car without even giving me a second glance. 

Oh no, he didn't. I didn't care how hot or sexy he was, he was definitely an asshole, and I was not about to let him walk away without letting him know how much of an asshole he was. At that moment, I said the only thing my mind could think of.

 "You know, a simple apology would have been more than enough to 'fix it.'" I said, clicking my tongue on the 'fix-it' without missing a beat. 

He was still walking, and then I added: "Mr. asshole." This seemed to get his attention, and he turned around to look at me, but still said nothing. Finally, he just smirked and glided smoothly into the back seat of the Rolls Royce.  

Now my anger was boiling so much it was going to spill over. He actually f*****g smirked. He must be feeling so good about himself right now I thought. Liam must have noticed how red hot I was with anger, and he leaned down to join me as I packed my stuff from the ground. 

"I'm so sorry," he gave an apologetic look. "this was all my fault." 

"It's fine," I said, taking my phone from him. I knew I should have been more upset at him for almost running me over, but there was only enough anger in me for one person at the moment, and that person was the hot asshole sitting in the back of that Rolls Royce. I also had to appreciate the fact that he showed some concern for me even though this was partly my fault. 

"Do you need medical attention? I can call them if you want." He asked with a concerned look.

 I did. I really did, but I had wasted about ten minutes there, and I could not afford to miss this interview over a simple bruise. I would get my ankle checked later. "No, I'm fine. Thank you."

"Please excuse the master's behavior."

Of course, an arrogant asshole like him would have his employees call him master. Well, I didn't know who he thought he was, and I didn't care, and I most definitely wished I would never meet him again.

"I'm okay. I really have to go. So please excuse me." I said and crossed on over to the other side of the street. Without looking back, I entered the building.

Inside the building, I adjusted my dress and wiped off some of the dust with my palm. My dress was knee-length, so I did not have to worry about hiding the small bruise on my knee. Then I went across the lobby to the receptionist's desk. 

"Good morning." She said with a beaming smile.

"Good morning," I replied with a half-smile. "I'm Alisa Emmerson, and I'm here for the job opening of Mr. Drey Carlson's personal assistant." 

"Oh, yes. I'm sorry the appointment was moved up an hour. Mr. Drey is not here yet. He had something important to attend to." 

"Okay, that's fine. I can wait. Where can I join the others?"

"They left already. Mr. Carlson called to cancel their appointments."

"He did?" Why would he do that? I was not complaining though. I would like to have lesser competition for this job. But it just felt weird for him to send them away and not do the same with me. Maybe my resume stood out, and he was so impressed with my degree, that he just thought he needed to hire me without interviewing others. Or maybe he found someone better and I was also going to be sent away too.

"Yes. I'll call security to show you to the waiting room."

"Okay, thank you. But please, can you show me the restroom?"

"Yeah, sure. It's down the hallway to your left." She said, gesturing with her finger.

The restroom was empty, so I took the chance to organize myself quickly. I ran my hand through my brown ponytail to detangle it, my hand got stuck in a few curls reminding me that I needed a haircut at least this weekend. I took a paper towel to wipe off the blood on my knees. My ankle was still hurting, and I tried not to think of the pain, although that was a hard choice as my mind kept flashing to the reason I was even in this pain. His handsome face gave no clue of how much of an asshole he was, which was why I was wise to stick to my choice of 'no men', they were all jerks. Ron though thought very differently. After applying a little lipstick, I checked myself in the mirror, washed my hands, and went back to the waiting room. 

While waiting to be called, my phone rang, and it was a call from the hospital. I knew I had to take it. I had missed 3 calls from them just this week. It's not like I was avoiding them —okay, maybe I was avoiding them— but since I was going to see my dad at the hospital in just a few days, I didn't see the need to pick up the phone. I already knew what the call would say.

Every week, they would call to tell me about my dad's progress, which was not actually progress but their way of reminding me of the need to pay the debt that kept increasing every week. I would say it wasn't so bad after all, it kind of kept me on my toes every day, reminding me of my responsibilities. 

"Hi, Alisa," Dr. Leah's soft voice filtered through the phone. 

"Oh hey Dr. Leah, how are you doing?" My voice echoed into the empty waiting room. 

"I'm doing great, how are you holding up?" I could hear the sound of the hospital monitor beeping slowly, and I hoped it was my dad's  

"Good, thanks. Are you with my dad?" I asked, desperate to hear his voice. I had not spoken to him in weeks, the last time I went to the hospital, he was sleeping, and I couldn't speak to him before it was time to catch the train back. 

"Yes I am, he wants to speak to you," I felt so much joy that he was awake and that I could talk to him. 

"Dad," I said, unable to contain the excitement in my voice. 

"How are you Princess?" he asked, and I could hear the sadness in his voice. It broke my heart to hear the weakness and tiredness in his voice. 

"I'm fine dad," I had to put up a fight to hold back the tears from falling, I couldn't let him hear me cry, it would break his heart. "how are you feeling today?" 

"I've had better days," from the ruffling sound of the sheets on the bed, I could tell he was trying to sit up. 

"Oh dad, you'll be fine, I'll do everything I can to make sure you come home soon." 

"I know that princess. Will you come visit soon?" 

"Yes, I will, in a few days, Right now, I'm waiting for my interview." 

"Really? You're getting a job? What about your designs?." My dad was my biggest supporter. He would always push me to follow my dreams and do what made me happy. But at the moment, the only thing that would make me happy was him coming back home from that hospital. 

"It's fine dad. I can always go back to it when you come back home." I knew he would not be happy with that choice, so I had to change the topic before he protested further. "Are your medications working?" 

"They make me sleepy," he whined. 

"Then I'm glad they are working," I chuckled, and a streak of tear I did not know I was holding rolled down my cheek. Talking to dad was the one thing I could count on to always make me emotional. 

"Dad, I have to go. It's time for me to have the interview." I lied

"Okay dear, I miss you, please come visit soon princess." 

"I miss you too dad. I'll see you on Sunday. I love you." 

"I love you too." The tears were already pouring, and I was happy that Dr. Leah took the phone before he heard my quiet sobs.

"Dr. Leah, I have to go. Thank you for letting me talk to him." The words rushed out of my mouth and without waiting for her response, I ended the call.

A louder sob escaped as the call ended. I could not have been more grateful for the fact that I was alone in the waiting room. But not for too long. It was almost an hour since I was there, and that meant someone would come in soon. 

I took the handkerchief from my bag and wiped my tears, careful not to ruin my mascara. I used my phone to give myself a quick check and my face was still good. 

As I dropped my hand with my phone, it chimed, and I checked to see a text from Dr. Leah. 

Alisa, I know you're hurting right now, but I found a way to help your dad. It will cost you a lot of money, but it's absolutely worth it. Let's talk when you get here on Sunday. 

My face hurt from the way I grinned after receiving the text, and just like that, I was hopeful again. For the last two years, dad had been struggling with his health and while I could not complain about having every dime I got used to trying to make him better, I hated to see that he was really not getting any better. I would give anything to have my dad back again and if this new treatment was going to give him back to me, I would have to give it my all and make sure I walked out of here impressing Drey Carlson. Now I needed this job even more. 

A few minutes later, a woman about my age, wearing a pencil skirt and a white button-down walked in. Just like the receptionist downstairs, she gave me a beaming smile that made my lips curl into a smile too. "I'm Amanda," she said taking my hand for a handshake, "One of  Mr. Carlson's assistants." 

One of?! So there were more and was I about to join the lot.  Despite my surprise and confusion, I gave her a warm handshake too, "Alisa Emmerson." 

"A pleasure," she withdrew her hand and led me toward the door, "Mr. Drey will see you now. I'll lead you to his office."

"Okay, thank you" She led me to the elevator door and pushed the button for the 67th floor which was the highest floor on the building. Nausea rolled through me as we rode in silence, my mind trying to do some last-minute thinking. "I was told the other applicants had to leave," I blurted, in an effort to end the silence as we rode higher. 

"Mr. Carlson had to make a last-minute choice," she said in a measured tone that was not mean or rude. I could tell she was trying to be nice, but not enough to reveal too much. "Nervous?" 

"Very," I admitted. 

"That's okay," she said reassuringly, "It's hard to impress Mr. Carlson and if he sent the others back and only requested you stay, I can bet you impressed him already." I liked her.

The elevator dinged and she stepped out leading me through a more exotic hallway. "Well, I really hope that is the case," 

"Mr. Carlson can be a lot sometimes," she continued as she led me past a few executive offices, though a part of me could tell she that was her giving me a hint that her boss was a jerk . "but if you know what you're doing, you can easily get past him. Just be you," she told me and halted in front of the pair of large double doors. I could tell they were strong and very expensive too. "And even though we just met, good luck with your interview," 

"Thanks, I have a feeling I would need it," 

"Oh you will," she knocked once, and a voice responded from inside. "Enter."

I recognized the bold and commanding voice almost immediately, and I barely had the time to register the implication before she opened the door and led me in.

"The applicant, Mr. Carlson," Amanda said, oblivious to my confusion.

I walked in, realizing that I was not wrong, even as I blinked a few times hoping karma would stop playing pranks on me. 

"Leave," he commanded, his tone just as dismissive as it was earlier with me. Like he was screaming, I do not give a f**k who you are, without saying anything.  

Nope, not a prank. This was really happening.

"Please excuse me," she gave me a small smile that did the littlest to help me. And with that, she was gone, leaving me alone and just inches away from him. 

Hot stranger/ Mr. Asshole/ Mr. Drey Carlson was sitting in his rolling chair. His hand on his chin and those blue irises staring at me with the same smirk that had me boiling with anger just a few minutes ago. Suddenly I felt sick in my stomach.

I just went from having a bad day to having the worst day.