Betsy and The Beast

Four (Anthony)

I was tired. It was just after seven and I'd been negotiating deals the entire day. The thrill I used to feel after a takeover just hadn't been there today. As I trudged down the hallway to my office, I paused outside the file room. When I turned on the light, I couldn't believe my eyes. It was clean. There wasn't a stray piece of paper out of place. Who the hell was Betsy Solomon? A witch? I'd expected it to take her days, if not weeks, to get things organized and she'd done it in one day.

With a disbelieving shake of my head, I turned off the light and continued to my office. The building was a little eerie this late at night. I was probably the only person left in the whole building. Everyone else had gone home to their loved ones. Me? I was going to work for another hour or so, before making myself a stiff drink at home.

Upon entering my office, I froze. It looked different. It looked clean. There wasn't one ounce of clutter or dust bunny. Holy shit, she'd cleaned my office too? A slight noise came from my private bathroom and I headed toward it, on silent feet. If there was an intruder, I didn't want to alert them of my presence.

Peeking around the corner, into the bathroom, I almost choked at what I saw. Betsy was on her hands and knees scrubbing the bathroom floor. Her delectable ass was facing me and, holy fuck, was it perfect. She'd changed at some point and now wore a T-shirt with leggings. Her shirt had ridden up and her leggings showcased every dip and curve of her ass. That was almost enough to distract me speechless, but I was not happy to find her still here and back to doing fucking manual labor.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I growled, my tone pissed and demanding. It seemed extra loud, breaking into the silence.

Betsy gasped and whirled, her ass hitting the floor. She stared up at me with wide-eyes, "Jesus, you scared me."

"Get off the floor." I demanded through clenched teeth.

"Why are you so mad now?" She asked as she stood, throwing her scrub brush into a bucket. Her hands came to her waist and she glared at me. She was hot as fuck.

"Why are you still here?" I gritted out and my hands balled into fists. It was either that or grab her and kiss the hell out of her.

"Well, I finished in your file room and then noticed your office could use a quick scrub down. I-oh wow, I didn't realize it had gotten so late. Is that why you're mad? You don't want to pay me overtime? I'll just leave early tomorrow if that's the case."

"I don't give a damn about overtime. I gave you one job, to clean up the file room and now you're right back to doing a maid's work."

"So? What's wrong with maid's work? It's honest work and someone has to clean your freaking palace!" She said, practically yelling now.

I tilted my head to study her more closely and then I stated, "You're not afraid of me."

"Why would I be afraid of you?"

"Most people are." I shrugged.

"Well maybe you should do something about that. Do you ever smile?"

"No." I said flatly.

"Why?"

"That's none of your business."

She sighed and I felt bad for snapping at her, which was a new feeling for me.  I never felt bad for my actions. No, she shouldn't be prying into my personal life, but I didn't have to be a dick about it. I just didn't know any other way to be at this point.

"I should get home." She said suddenly, almost sounding sad, and moved around me.

"Have you eaten yet?" I shocked myself by asking.

"No."

"Let me take you to dinner." I didn't believe the words that were coming out of my own mouth.

Her eyes widened, just as surprised as I was. Then she ducked her head and said softly, "I'm all...gross from cleaning and I'm not dressed for dinner. You could come to my place instead if you want. We could order pizza like us lesser folks are prone to do."

Her place? Fuck I was in trouble, but agreed anyway, "Pizza sounds good."

She smiled and nodded, "Um, I was going to take the bus home."

"I'll drive you." I say and move to my desk, gathering my briefcase. So much for getting some more work done tonight. Where was my usual self-discipline? Turning to face Betsy again, I forgot all about work for the first time in years. She was like a breath of fresh air after being stuck in a cave without any sunlight.

I moved toward her, placing a hand on her lower-back as we headed for the elevator. My hand tingled where it touched her. The feeling was indescribable. It was like nothing I'd ever felt before. Not even with Gloria.

In the elevator, while it descended to the parking garage, I asked, "I'm not going to be accosted by a jealous boyfriend or husband when we get to your place, am I?"

"No. I'm single."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you single? You're a young, beautiful woman. I figure guys should be lined up around the block for you."

"Um, I don't really date."

"Why?"

"Now who's prying into whose business?" She asked, with a smile.

"You're right. I shouldn't-."

She interrupted me, answering my question anyway, "I have...attachment issues. I don't date because I don't want to get attached to anyone. Attachments inevitably lead to heartbreak."

I blinked at her in surprise. She knew pain. In fact, she knew the same type of pain I'd experienced. I asked, "Who have you lost?"

"Everyone."

I nodded, deciding to let it go for now, as we exited the elevator. I led her to my car.  It was a new Lexus that I kept in pristine condition.  I was usually proud of my car, but now I found myself wondering what Betsy thought of it.  She didn't seem impressed.  The woman was an enigma compared to the women I was used to.  She wasn't impressed by monetary possessions.  What was it going to to take to impress her, I wondered, and why did I want to so damned bad?

We rode in silence the whole way to her apartment. I was usually exceptionally good at reading people, but I couldn't seem to get a read on Betsy Solomon. She intrigued me. It annoyed me that she intrigued me. I didn't have time for distractions; and she was one, beautiful distraction. I should just drop her off at her door and head home. I should just visit Lindsey. I wasn't going to do that though. Against my better judgment I was going to see where the night took us.