Chapter 2

Becca's POV

“I also thought I would be, but…” I didn’t even have to finish, Elijah sighed as he put both hands on his hips. “We had an hour of training, like every day. But your boss is an asshole, Becca.”

I sighed softly, taking advantage of his stop to lean on a tree and ending up sitting on the grass. We were surrounded by large trees curved in that path, which sprouted from low lawns and were surrounded by wild flowers. I loved Spring because the whole park was impregnated with that sweet smell of nature in its splendor, and it was relaxing to just sit down and watch the world go by.

“Don’t even tell me about that asshole. I can’t wait to resign.”

“Why did you never leave that office?” asked Elijah, frowning slightly. He approached the tree but didn’t sit down.“I always thought you were too communicative to be locked in that dull place, and too smart not to fool yourself thinking that helping to plan the events of that sucker would be the same as being a Promoter. You had to look for something better.”

I sibiled softly, with fun. “I don’t know what position you’re suggesting I should occupy, but I just hope it’s not something like your story of me becoming a Stripper. I talk too much, but I’m shy, do you understand the difference?”

Elijah let out a deep laugh, wiping with the hem of his shirt a few drops of sweat that flowed down his forehead. The brown hair was totally moist, and he was lucky that the strands were short, because unlike him, mine were totally stuck to the forehead and back of the neck. I even got angry when I pushed some blond hair away from behind my ears because everything was too wet.

“Fred and I have been friends for years,” said Elijah, referring to my master. He didn’t know the level of relationship we had, but he suspected it was a secret relationship, considering who Fred was and how much he preserved for his intimate life. “Do you want me to give him some tips about you being the best personal assistant he could have? So you can talk by the elbows, stay shy, and still get married as soon as possible to let me eat the snacks of your fancy party.”

I let out a laugh of pure disdain. “Work with the guy I’m leaving with? Never in this life. God forbid.”

“Why not?”

“They think they can control us all the time,” I rolled my eyes, although that part happens anyway. “No minimally smart woman gets involved with the bosses, no matter how hot they are. If Fred becomes my boss, I’ll go out.”

“You two are weird.” Elijah had an unknown expression on his face. “You’ve been together for months. Fred almost doesn’t always mention your name when we’re training, and you’re always far away when I talk about him. If I wasn’t considered crazy for saying that, I would swear that you get involved in a very peculiar way.”

I giggled because he had no idea how peculiar that relationship was. “Admit that you are a gossiper who can’t leave the lives of others alone.”

“I’m not a gossiper. I just like to keep myself informed about the lives of my friends, neighbors, family, and even strangers. Don’t judge me.”

“Oh, I judge,” I said at the same time, all smiling that the moment of torture in that race was left behind by Elijah’s distraction. My goal was to keep the conversation, just so that our one hour of training would end and I could go home to watch series and eat crap, throwing all the training in the trash.

“We only became friends because you did a gossip about Fred’s sister, and I was too curious to know too. And you didn’t even know my name at that time; you were only being paid to train me, and you even updated me on all the gossip in the world of socialites.”

Elijah giggled awkwardly, shrugging. “The biggest gossip in the world I haven’t discovered yet, which is why you and Fred don’t assume once and for all.”

“Duh,” I emitted softly, making a face. “He is rich, important, and has a million enemies on his tail. Besides, I don’t want a serious relationship with anyone.”

“I say the same thing about my ex,” he said, gesturing with his shoulders once again. “Only if he snaps his fingers, I’ll run after him. You and Fred are the same thing, I’m sure.”

I laughed. Elijah was really women’s dream of consumption, but absolutely gay and gossipy, the kind that didn’t know how to keep his tongue inside his mouth for more than five minutes. Telling him what Fred and I had would be the same as announcing on the cover of Vogue. Everyone would know the next day. Despite this, he was what I could call the best man friend I’ve ever had in my entire life.

“That’s why, stop talking like that,” I grumbled, frowning. “You keep having relapses with your ex-boyfriend, and no one judges you for it. About Fred and me, don’t keep nurturing hopes of being the godfather of our wedding because if one day it happens, I won’t call you. I’m going to eat all the sweets and snacks by myself. By the way, the party of rich people doesn’t even have these things.”

Elijah tilted his head lightly. “So do you have hopes for a wedding?”

I grumbled. “Oh, Eli, I’m wrong.”Elijah laughed softly, so suddenly turned to look at a peculiar group of young people approaching. It was a Monday morning, although the sun was cracking like on a desert afternoon, and the boys already seemed to be h*** or very d***k. I looked away and took my cell phone in my legging pocket. My master had sent a good morning message a few minutes before, which I replied at the same time, and there was no other sign from him after that.

As much as I tried to convince myself that our relationship was much more than just a few escapes for rougher sex, or a caring relationship that was not just because I wanted to preserve a person considered his property, I could not be hypocritical not to compare that we were already like a boss and an employee. There was a contract between us, clauses and terms that made me his, and that gave me benefits as a bargaining chip. So, he was like a boss from whom I always ended up ending the nights in his bed. Thinking about it made me laugh sometimes, but when I remembered the kind of judgment I would receive if someone in my family knew what Fred represented to me, I was tense at the same time.

“Becca…” called Elijah, and I raised my head in a distracted way, startling me when I noticed that he simply had a knife leaning against his throat and his eyes wide open for me, as that group of boys with reddish and cloudy eyes surrounded us. “Don’t move.”