Chapter 3

I was right, I didn't forget about that group of fathers, and it turns out they didn't forget about me either because a couple months afterwards I was heading home from my part-time accounting position when someone bumped into me. Like most, the first glance didn't send any recognition through them, and why should it? I was dressed in a pair of soft black dress-pants paired with a white buttoned-down top and a light purple cardigan vest. A far cry from my itty-bitty skirts and barely-there tops and let's be honest they were never really looking at my face.

So imagine my surprise to hear a voice say, "Excuse me." A voice that a couple months before had ordered most of the drinks at the club, and then imagine his surprise and horror to realize it was me. Right there on the crowded sidewalk his jaw dropped open, no sounds came out except for a staccato of "uh, uh, uh," and I couldn't hide a small victorious smile that popped onto my face. I also couldn't hide my complete lack of respect for the, and I'll use this word very loosely, man, and as such decided to get away as quickly as possible.

I launched myself into the midst of the pedestrians crossing the street and prayed he'd lose sight of me, but you guessed it, no luck. He grabbed my arm and I had to physically restrain myself from forcefully removing it but the look of disgust I shot him and then down to where his hand was, convinced him to drop his grip on me. He held up his hands, took a step backwards away from the throngs of people walking about, and put more space between us.

"Ame," he said, and I hated the sound of it coming from him.

"Don't," I stated a bit harshly but the memories from that night had haunted my dreams for weeks and I didn't want them to begin again.

"I wanted to apologize, for running into you and also for what happened in the club. You were right, we were completely out of line."

"So big of you to admit it, but you all weren't simply out of line, you were completely repulsive. You're all just lucky I don't know your wives or else they'd know exactly how unsuited you all are at being fathers."

"I…we…everyone there that night, are extremely sorry for our behavior, we didn't think anyone would understand what we were saying, and we took it too far," he said awkwardly.

"You honestly think it makes it better that you all thought no one would understand? Guess what? It doesn't, and you all were at the too far mile marker well before you walked in there that night. I know you've run off several waitresses in the past with your vulgarity, even though they didn't know what you were saying."

"Forget it," he said throwing his hands up in the air huffily. "You obviously aren't going to accept the apology so there's no point in wasting my breath."

"Forget it? You want me to forget it? Do you honestly think I can forget that you and your buddies said you wanted to tie me up…"

I trailed off as a group of kids walk towards the crosswalk and their teacher sent a worried glance my way. I want to leave, but yet, I can't stop my tirade midstream and so I switch to sign language.

‘You want me to forget you all wanted to tie me up and then force me to… service you all?'

He obviously didn't like my statement because he cut in when I attempted to ask another question. He said with light hand motions, ‘It was a joke, funny…'

‘ Funny ?' I signed harshly, very harshly. ‘Was it also a joke when you said your friend said he wanted to see how far he could stick his dick down my throat before I gagged?'

He didn't have much of a reply but signed, ‘I'm sorry.'

‘Sorry? Sorry?! Sorry doesn't cut it. Sorry doesn't make up for the fact that you all were joking, joking , about wanting to gang rape someone. Sorry doesn't make up for the fact that you took one look at every woman in that place and immediately began imagining what sort of horror you'd like to unleash on them…' I was well aware we were garnering onlookers as we stood there.

He signed something I didn't quite catch, I was too busy looking around the crowd to see if any of them were aware of what we were saying, thankfully, none of them did, and so I asked him to repeat himself, which he did.

‘We would never actually do those things,' he signed to me.

‘Doesn't matter whether you would actually do them or not. The simple fact that they're there in your minds means on some level you're capable of it and that is sickening. Stay away from me, stay away from Vivian's, and for your kids' sakes, stay away from them too,' I said turning on the heel of my boots, walking away.

I barely made it home before the vomit that had been burning its way up my throat had to be released and afterwards, I sat on the floor thinking how crazy I was. It hadn't been until I signed to him about the possibility of them doing any of the things they were "joking" about that I truly realized exactly how scared I've been that they'd come back to the club or come after me because of what I'd said to them. How on earth did it come to this?

I'm the girl who's never scared. Put me on any roller coaster and I'll be fine. Going down a zipline…no problem. I've skydived, parasailed, jet skied, mountain climbed, free fell into a net below me, and even drank the water in Mexico and never once felt so much as a twinge of fear, but the thought of those men doing any of the things they'd signed to each other, that scared the crap out of me, and that made me mad.

No one, and certainly no man, should ever have the ability to scare me or make me worry that my safety could be in jeopardy. I refuse to let them, so this is what I'm going to do. I'm going to go down to the club and I'm going to take my life back. Sure I've been working there in the evenings, but I haven't given it my all, I haven't shown them how easily I can wrap the men around my finger and control their behavior.

But that's exactly what I'm going to do. They've seen the competent Amelia, but I'm going to show them the no holds barred Amelia. The one who turns prisoners into allies and keeps them happier than they've ever been. That's the Amelia I'm going to show them, because that's the real Amelia.

It took me nineteen years to discover my real strength but after working at Sam's for almost a year, I did. I lost track of her a bit with all the turmoil of the first few months here but I'm not going to let her go again. Why it took me going back to a club and being forced to confront those men, who knows, but I'm back and the world will see me for who I am, even if my parents can never know.

Ugh …my parents.

I was supposed to go home for a visit soon. Grandpa's birthday is in two weeks, his seventieth, except I can't get off work. Oh, Maura would let me, but this part-time job isn't as accommodating. I was three minutes late one morning and I was totally chewed out for it. There's no way they'll let me off for an entire day or two to fly back to Missouri for the party, unless they can switch it to Saturday…but that means calling Mom and our weekly phone conversations are bad enough.

It's the same thing over and over and over. ‘Are you seeing anyone?' ‘Do you have any new friends? ‘Have you met any boys?'

My mom won't be happy until I'm barefoot and pregnant—preferably back in Missouri in a little house just down the street from her. Don't get me wrong. I'd like to get married and have babies like three-fourths of the other women in the world, but I want it to be with the right person. He doesn't have to be the perfect Mr. Right, but he should be Mr. Right-for-Me.

Well, there you go, you've done it now. You've discovered my deep, dark secret.

I want the fairytale, no matter how inane it sounds.

No poisoned apples, witches, dwarves, singing/talking animals, magic mirrors, pumpkin carriages, unexpected/unexplainable impromptu song and dance numbers required—just good old-fashioned love. Something that seems to have disappeared from the world along with the cartoon characters I grew up watching that are now unrecognizable.

I mean really, have you seen them and how they now look? Give me the old 2D drawn characters over these new computer generated things. I'm a grown adult and they freak me out, I can't imagine what kids could possibly think of them.

As of now, I've never come close to finding that fairytale, not that I've been actively searching or anything. Far from it. I've seen more stupid men in the past five years than I ever should have to and that keeps me grounded when some smooth-talking guy comes up to me on the street, in the café, or even the mall and lays down a tired pick-up line. I haven't fallen yet and honestly don't plan on letting it happen anytime soon…I know, I know, you other hopeless romantics out there are just shouting at me, aren't you?

You can't control the when, where and who of falling in love, but I'm not going out looking for it or even letting others think it's possible. Confused yet? That's okay; I'll explain a bit better. My great-grandmother on my dad's side passed away when I was sixteen. I was the only great-granddaughter or daughter on their side period, another reason I'm so used to being around boys. My great-grandmother had four boys and they all had boys who also all had boys but then my mom and dad had me. So, I'm stuck with eight cousins who are boys and about twenty other second and third cousins who are also all boys.

But to get back to it, when she died, she passed her wedding ring to me that way none of the boys could argue over who got it. Once I started working at the club I had thought, stupidly I might add, that if I wore the ring with its medium sized diamond the guys would be less likely to hit on me or something—turns out it increased the rate and tips. So, I've continued to wear it at work and a few times I'd be so exhausted when I got home that I'd forget to take it off and while it might egg the guys at the club on it tends to repel boys at college and work.

That's why I say I'm not looking and not letting others think I want to be looked at, outside of the club anyway.

Work was typical that night, but my attitude got me more tips than I ever got at Sam's place which is a bit amusing, and a bit sad, which makes me the slightest bit homesick. Not that I'll ever admit to it and if anyone dares suggest it, I will deny, deny, deny .

Things got even better over the next few days, although the phone call to my mother didn't go as well as I'd hoped, and I ended up not going home for the birthday party. In fact, I didn't bother answering her calls for the next month.

During that time, the only thing that changed was my part-time job ended and another began. This one wasn't nearly as entertaining as the last, but at least it got my foot in the door at a major corporation, albeit as a floating secretary.

Today, I'm filling in on the top floor for the VP of Finance. The perfect opening to see about a real job, except it didn't come that day or the next or during any of the twenty that followed it.

The company was trying to purchase a manufacturing plant to add to their fold, which would effectively give them the ability to produce every single piece needed for their product and produce it without going outside of themselves. Everyone was rushing around scrambling to get the answers they needed for the big boss, but they couldn't find them. I knew exactly where to after a glance at a document I shouldn't have seen. When Stan Eames, the Finance VP, walked into the office, I hesitated for a moment but when he asked if Douglas Tines had called, I shook my head in the negative.

He was prepared to head into his office, but I found my nerve and stated, "Mr. Eames, sir, if I may? I saw the name of the company you've been looking into."

"How did you manage that?"

"Brittany dropped a file in the hallway and the name popped out at me," I said truthfully.

"Why is that?"

"Because I use to work for them."

"You what?" Stan said an amazed look crossing his face.

"I worked for them in Missouri before I moved here. I'm certain I can help get you the answers you're looking for," I told him.

"Hallelujah, at least one thing managed to work out right," he muttered. "Stay here while I get someone to cover the phones."

It only took a couple minutes to get someone to cover for me and then I was being ushered into a huge conference room.

"Stan, I hope this interruption is worth it," a man stated standing up.

My first impression was, whoa ! He was gorgeous, male model gorgeous, with a build of a football player and the height of a basketball one, in other words an amazing specimen, one I'd never find inside a strip club. My eyes automatically went to his left hand, covertly of course, you learn a thing or two about averting your gaze at a club and found it bare. He has be to a confirmed bachelor because no sane woman would ever not try with him.

"Rafe, sorry for barging in here but I think we've found what we've been looking for," Stan said. "This is Amelia…"

"Thorpe," I remind him.

"Yes, sorry, Amelia Thorpe, she's been filling in while my assistant is out on maternity leave," he told the room.

"Nice to meet you Miss…Ms. Thorpe," Rafe says to me as the sun caught my ring and his gaze was drawn to it. "Forgive me if I'm lost but what have you found Stan?"

"Amelia," Stan said with a chuckle, but Rafe didn't look amused. "Amelia worked for Lemans before moving to the city."

The air in the room suddenly changed with that one statement, it began bursting with excitement and anticipation instead of being filled with panic and anxiety. Rafe gave me a long curious look before nodding to the others who suddenly disappeared. Running while they had a chance it felt like to me. Stan stayed but one stare from Rafe had him excusing himself, and I could hear him whistling as he walked down the hallway to his office.

"Ms. Thorpe," Rafe said turning back to me.

"Amelia, please, I hear Ms. Thorpe and look for my mother," I blurt out before I remember that everyone here thinks I'm married. Maybe he would think I was talking about a mother-in-law, but his gaze told me he caught the real meaning.

"Amelia," he said, letting me off the hook about anything personal, "please have a seat."

"Mister…" I start but he stops me.

"Rafe, everyone who works here calls me Rafe. There are entirely too many Mr. Gordon's in the world, including in this building, for me to sit on pretense," he said trying to put me at ease I can tell.

"Rafe…I don't like beating around the bush so I'll tell you whatever you want to know but there are some things that my own personal sense of loyalty will not allow me to reveal," I warn, and he sends another one of his looks my way.

It's disturbing yet flattering all at the same time and I found myself wondering what it would feel like to have him stare into my eyes and not at me. How it would feel to be wrapped in the long arms that he gently placed on top of the table, and how well my head would fit onto his shoulder or if we'd melt into one another perfectly while I laid in the crook of his arms.

Whoa, where the heck did that come from? Come on girl get it together, one gorgeous guy looks at you like you've suddenly opened up a whole new world of possibilities, corporate possibilities no less, and you start imagining that? Boy do I ever need to get a life. Maybe a date every now and then won't be so rough or damaging to my career plans if it only takes a little glance like that to get me going.

Focus Amelia , I tell myself, business, Lemans, stick with that . Don't let the bulging biceps trapped beneath his long-sleeved pale blue button up shirt make you wonder what it'd feel like to wear only it. What his hands would feel like running up and down your back as he kisses you, slowly unbuttoning it until his hands can touch your bare skin.

"Amelia?" I hear and I realize he was talking to me while I was fantasizing about him. Something I never, and I mean never do. Wow, I really need a life.