Thin Lines

New life

Five years later

Xela

Thirty more minutes.

I glance at the clock that reads 6:30 PM.

It's not that I don't love this job, because I do, but today I'm just so tired.

A series of knocks hit my door, "Come in" I say, straitening a few papers on my desk.

"Miss Smith I am going to need the files from January to March in order" Mr. Black asks, walking into my office. "I already emailed them to you." I tell him.

He smiles, "Then why are you still here? It's Friday! Go enjoy yourself" he says.

I look to him, unsure if he is being serious. Mr. Black owns a huge corporation, based in New York City. He owns everything from hotels, restaurants, bars, and office buildings.

When I moved to New York four years ago, I first struggled to get by at a coffee shop. Then I...I don't really want to talk about it. The point is, Mr Black really saved me.

It pays well and mostly consists of office work every day, but it's really not that bad. My office is on the top floor and has an amazing view of the city.

Deep down I know that Black Corporations is more than meets the eye, everyone does. I've told myself to just ignore the dirty business and involvement in the Mafia, I mean I just do office work. Nothing more.

"Are you sure?" I ask. He nods, "We have a big week next week, so enjoy yourself this weekend."

I'm shocked, I completely forgot that we have several huge meetings scheduled for next week. I mean, Mr. Black does. I just kind of sit in on his meetings and take notes. Next week we have meetings with companies from Italy, China, California, and Mexico. If you asked me, I bet it has something to do with the Mafia business, but what am I supposed to do? Say no?

I am lucky Mr Black took me in, I was in an awful place 2 years ago, if it means I have to work with some bad people, so be it.

"Thank you, Mr Black" I smile.

"Xela ive told you several times you can call me Weston."

I can't help but blush at his words, he always tells me to call him by his first name but for some reason I never do.

"Sorry" I mumble.

"Have a nice weekend." He says, leaving.

I groan and cover my face with my hands, embarrassed. Mr Black- Weston, is a very handsome man. He is a few years older than me, being 26, and is from Sicily. He moved here when he was a little boy and took over his fathers business.

I probably would like him if I hadn't sworn off all relationships, but now I can't imagine being with anyone ever.

I took the bus back to my apartment, which was actually very close to my office building. I had a nice apartment, it was actually perfect for me.

I stared at the bottles of meds sitting in the kitchen, and knew I should take them, but instead I walked down the hall and collapsed on my bed, exhausted from the day.