Betsy and The Beast

Eight (Anthony)

I felt such a relief when I spotted Betsy walking across the lobby of Chapman Holdings, toward the exit. I'd been a mess all afternoon. I shouldn't have been such an ass to her. Anyone else and I wouldn't have cared, but the look of hurt on her face as she left my office had gutted me.

I'd gone after her almost immediately, but she hadn't answered the door at her apartment. I'd waited there for over an hour before I got in my car to scour the neighborhood. Nothing. Hours went by and I'd felt panic start to set in. What if something serious had happened to her? Had someone kidnapped her? Or worse?

When she didn't report back to the office when her lunch break should have been over, I decided to look through her employee file.  She did not list any next of kin, so I couldn't even call her relatives. The only phone number she'd listened kept going to voicemail, so I was guessing it was the phone in her apartment.

I'd finally accepted that she was avoiding me and was planning to head back to check her apartment when Betsy came from the direction of the janitor's closet. Of course, she'd gone back to her old job. I felt stupid for not realizing she'd do that.  She wasn't the type to shun her responsibilities, so of course she wouldn't have quit without a word.

Now I waited, hoping against hope that she'd take me up on my offer to get coffee. Her back was to me and I couldn't help the way my eyes strayed, wondering down her body. She looked damned good in a pair of jeans. I wanted her. With every fiber of my being I wanted her, and I was done fighting it.

"Fine." She said sounding resigned. I'd take it.

I was careful not to touch her on the way to my car. She was clearly on edge and I didn't want to spook her. She didn't speak when we were inside my car and she seemed distracted enough not to notice I was taking us away from the business district. When I pulled into my garage, Betsy sat up straight and glared at me.

I held up my hands after cutting the engine, "Just coffee. I didn't figure you'd want to go into public with poop on your shirt."

She gasped, "I do not have...holy moly that better not be actual shit on my shirt.  It could be though.  One of the jerks on the third floor must have had Mexican food for lunch.  It hadn't agreed with him, apparently, because he'd made a mess of the bathroom."

I laughed. I couldn't help it. She looked so adorably disgruntled. I couldn't remember the last time I'd laughed, so it felt foreign to me. It seemed to startle Betsy just as much as it did me, because she was staring at me almost in awe.

"Come on. You can wash up inside and I'll give you something clean to wear." I tell her and then exit my car. She got out before I could get her door for her. Then we were on yet another elevator together, with the air seeming to crackle around us. I wanted to reach for her, but I couldn't. Not yet.

As we stepped into my condo, Betsy silently surveyed her surroundings. Finally, she turned to look at me, saying, "Wow."

"Impressive, right?" I stood taller, proud to have finally impressed her.

"I mean, it's ok, I guess. I was just thinking how much it fits your personality."

Ouch. It was an insult. As gorgeous as my place was, I knew what she meant. It was cold and uninviting, just like me. I couldn't blame her for feeling that way though, so I said, "Come on. I'll show you to a bathroom, so you can wash up. Feel free to shower if you'd like. Towels are in the cabinet and you'll find multiple soaps already in the shower. While you get cleaned up, I'll see what I can find for you to wear."

I shoved her into the guest bathroom, before she could argue, and shut the door. I went to my room, intending to pull out some of Gloria's clothes that i hadn't bothered to get rid of, but I pulled up short. I should have dealt with her things years ago. It wasn't healthy to keep them and I doubted I'd enjoy seeing Betsy wear them. With that thought in mind I grabbed her one of my undershirts and a pair of my sweatpants, which I rarely wore.  Gloria had bought me the pants for my "down days".  I hadn't allowed myself too many days like that since her death.

I went back to the bathroom, where I'd left Betsy and could hear the water running. I debated about what to do with the clothes. With a knock I opened the door just a crack and hollered, "Betsy?"

She gasped, "Jesus! You scared me!"

"Sorry.  I'll set these clothes on the sink for you to change into."

"Ok. Thank you." She said and I pushed the door open, entering. Every piece of me wanted to peek at the shower. The curtain wasn't fully transparent, but just knowing she was behind it was a turn on. Instead, I put the clothes down and backed out of the room. Then I went to pour myself a stiff drink. With the conversation I knew I needed to have with Betsy, I figured I'd need alcohol to get through it; the coward that I was.

I heard the water shut off and I imagined her stepping out...naked. Dripping wet and naked. Fuck, I was in deep. The panic I'd felt when I hadn't been able to find her told me I'd been stupid to ask her to leave the way that I had. I'd been so fucking stupid. When I'd first looked at Betsy, I'd seen a daisy...I'd seen Gloria. I'd been doing what I could to push her away ever since. The harder I pushed, though, the more I craved her. I needed her. I hadn't needed anyone in years, and it scared me. I battled and conquered people every day, yet Betsy Solomon held the power to destroy me. I just hoped she'd use her power wisely. More so though, I hoped I wouldn't destroy her the same way I'd destroyed Gloria.