Her Little Helper

Chapter 3

*Savannah's POV*

I sent Erin downstairs to the I.T. department as soon as I got to my office on the top floor of the building. Something told me that Abigail's interview would not go... smoothly. The city can be an unforgiving place, and it's easy for girls like her to be chewed up and spit out by the companies that operate here.

She's young, and small. Not necessarily small physically, though she certainly is compared to my nearly six foot height, but she acts small. She doesn't seem capable of speaking up for herself, or demanding the attention from the people that can get her the jobs that she wants. And when something doesn't go her way, she throws a little tantrum like she did to Charles in the lobby. Though I can't fully blame her for that. Charles can be an ass sometimes. 

But despite her clearly not being suited to working in this type of corporate environment, she made me feel something I haven't felt in a long time. When she stomped her foot at Charles, I just about dragged her up to my office and put her in the corner for time out. And when she decided to use such naughty language in the elevator, she's lucky I didn't wash her mouth out with soap. 

I shouldn't be thinking these thoughts. I don't even know if she's a little, never mind if she would want to be my little. I only sent Erin down because I want to talk to her to make sure she's alright before she goes on her way. That's it! Nothing more than that.

*Abigail's POV*

Tears were still streaming steadily as the elevator ascended to the top floor of the high rise. Whimpers accidentally escaped my mouth as I sniffled, still distraught from being rejected by the company. Erin stood beside me, occasionally rubbing my back trying to get me to calm down. But I was a mess, I couldn't hide it. 

The elevator dinged and it's doors opened to reveal a beautiful executive office space. To the left of the elevator was the front desk, which I'm assuming was manned by Erin normally. Across from her desk was an elegant coffee station where it seemed like visitors could make any kind of coffee or espresso drink that their hearts desired. Straight ahead, just past a section of comfy-looking couches and chairs was a wall of big glass windows that overlooked much of the city. It took me a minute to realize just how high up we were. For a second, it made me forget about how upset I was.

"Right this way, Abigail," said Erin with a friendly smile. I followed her as she made her way behind her desk, picking up the phone and pressing a couple buttons quickly. "Ma'am, Abigail Lawson is here to see you." After putting the phone down she turned to me and made her way to the closed wooden double doors that were just beyond her desk. "Ms. Monroe will see you now."

Erin opened the doors, walking into office ahead of me. The room was sophisticated and modern, with a couch and chair that were similar to those in the waiting room. Savannah sat at her desk straight ahead of the doors, floor-to-ceiling windows behind her overlooking another angle of the city. 

She smiled when she looked up and saw me. It was another real smile, which made me feel a little bit better. "Abigail," she said, a hint of surprised joy in her voice as she rose from her desk chair. She walked out into the middle of the office to meet me. That was when she noticed my tear-stained face. "What's the matter sweetheart?" she asked softly, sitting me down on the soft couch, while she knelt down in front of me to meet my gaze. Despite her question, it was obvious that she knew what the matter was. But I answered anyway.

"I didn't get the job," I mumbled, with more tears welling up. I quickly shifted my gaze towards my feet, embarrassed to let Savannah see me cry. But as much as I tried to hide it, the more sobs came out. "Oh, honey," Savannah said as she pulled me into her chest just as the streams of tears turned back into waterfalls. I had lost all ability to contain myself. So much for being professional. 

"Sweetie," Savannah continued. "It's just one job. It's not the end of the world!" She tried to console me but it only made me cry harder. There was something about her presence and her voice that seemed to let me open the floodgates. It felt like I was letting out years of sadness and frustration. 

I took a breath as best as I could and tried to respond to her. "B-but I-I'm about to r-run out of m-money and I-I'm gonna have t-to m-move back h-home."

Savannah rubbed my back and softly shushed me in an attempt to get me to calm down. After a few minutes, I did eventually get my breathing under control. "I know you're upset, Abigail." Savannah replied. "But what's so bad about having to move back home?" she asked. 

I looked up at her with my tearful eyes. "My parents. They don't like me much."

Savannah looked at me perplexed. "They don't like you? What's not to like?"

I smiled at her response, but quickly turned back to sadness. "My older brother, Josh, is the golden child of the family. He's a lawyer. He's got a wife and kids and a big fancy house. They've always told me I'm too immature for my age, and that I should start acting like him more. They threw all of my toys away on my eleventh birthday because they said I had gotten too old for them. I had a koala stuffie named Rosie that they made me throw in the garbage can. And because I was so upset, they wouldn't give me any cake. I ended up sneaking downstairs and rescuing her from the trash that night, but I had to hide her from my parents for all these years."

Savannah's facial expression morphed into an angered sadness as she looked at me. Another couple of tears fell from my eyes. "And twelve years later, they're still the exact same way. I don't wanna have to go back with them. But I think now I'll have to."

Before either of us could say anything, there was a knock at the door and Erin peaked her head through. "Ms. Monroe, your client just called back and said they won't be able to make it for dinner at Vincenzo's tonight. Do you want me to cancel the reservation.

Savannah didn't answer right away. Instead, looking back towards me, my saddened eyes still fixed to my shoes. "Sweetheart," she said, pulling my chin up with her finger. "How would you feel about having dinner tonight?"