Fighter

// two \\

"Tris, I know we don't normally do deliveries but we have a special request from Mr. Eaton himself and I need you to deliver it for me," her manager Toni tells her. "It's urgent, but he's in the city about an hour with traffic. I'll pay for your gas and for the full day, and let you go home early."

"Okay, ma'am, but why me? I'm usually just a stocker."

"Well, you're the only one who hasn't experienced him so..." she trails off with a innocent smile. "His boxes are in the back. Pull up front and I'll get one of the guys to bring them out."

"Sure."

Tris honestly didn't mind doing the delivery. The guy probably needs special organic chocolate for a cheating wife or something. It was a break in her tiring routine and it made the day go a whole lot faster.

Traffic was a bitch and she didn't make it to the tall building until ten, having left the store just after eight thirty. Parking was also difficult and her manager killed her by not having somebody come with her to carry the heavy boxes.

Tris was almost tempted to peek in the boxes to see what was so damn heavy. He should have requested toilet paper or cereal, something that wasn't hard to carry.

Three boxes was just ridiculous. If they needed this much of something they should have gotten it themselves.

She huffed and straightened her tee-shirt, feeling like a dork walking into some high-class office with jeans and tennis shoes.

The receptionist and security nodded their heads at her but offered no help, just telling her that Mr. Eaton was on floor 9 and a pitied "good luck". The wife was even worse than she thought.

The office was quiet, only the noisy crinkle of the box.

"Can I help you?" Asked the black haired, pale secretary.

"Delivery for Mr. Eaton, Ma'am."

"Go ahead, I'll get the doors but don't let him see me. He hates me," she whispered, tugging on the brass knobs of two heavy looking doors.

Tris laughed and snorted loudly, an obnoxious way to enter any room, let alone the apparent monstrous Eaton, but Tris was getting paid no matter what.

The man behind the computer was not what she was expecting at all. He was actually quite handsome, wearing a nice white button down shirt and dress pants. The sleeves were rolled up, making him seem casual and relaxed.

And when he glanced up, his blue eyes nearly made her faint. They were so sad and angry.

It was one of the gifts she had learned as a mother, how to read people. Children did not always tell you how they felt, especially when they had been through traumatic foster homes and being shifted from side to side. This taught her to read people easily.

His face was blank and dark, a sour frown marked on his features. If only he would just smile, then he would be the hottest man she'd ever seen.

"Mr. Eaton, sir, I have you two boxes that you have requested from Tomas Organic-"

"Set them on that chair there. How much do I owe you?" He interrupted impatiently, his voice deep and appealing. It made her want to swoon.

"Forty five even, sir," she smiled, placing the heavy ass boxes down, her hands red and sore and her arms indented from the creases of the delivery.

She stepped back towards the doors she entered through, giving him space as not to crowd him.

While he counted his money, she glanced around. It was a cold feeling office. There was nothing there but the wood desk and leather chairs. The large window behind him gave some warmth, but other than that it was not personalized at all. What a shame.

"What are you doing?" he questioned harshly, startling her from her thoughts.

"Nothing, sir, waiting for you to pay me so I can go home," she furrowed her eyebrows confused.

"You're not going to trying to fuck me or get me to give you more money?"

Tris cooed in her mind like he was her little baby Evie. Someone had hurt him a lot.

"No sir, just can't wait to go home. I've been given the day off for making this delivery."

"So you work all the time then?" she had no idea why he was trying to make conversation with her.

"Can I please be paid, Mr. Eaton?" Tris whispered, wanting to go home and rest and clean before the kids got home at three.

"Answer the question then."

"But it's really none of your business. I am nobody to you except the person who delivers."

"Take this money and leave then." He paid her sixty five dollars. She kept twenty as a tip to herself.