Mr. Lawson's Assistant

Chapter 34

I didn't bother to go home after my run. Even though I was too tired to run anymore, I still couldn't bring myself to go back. So instead, I found a quaint little coffee shop, and because I hadn't brought any money, I just went to sit inside. Something about coffee shops was oddly calming.
"You look absolutely exhausted!"
I looked up to see Malia, the young girl who I'd met in the elevator with Mr. Lawson, coming towards me with two coffees in hand.
"Malia, right?" I asked her, and she smiled.
"That's a first, most people forget," She paused at the seat across from me, and I motioned that she sit down. "Hard run today?" she asked, and I shrugged. Malia grinned, offering me the second cup in her hand.
"Oh no I don't need-"
"No please, you look like you could use the caffeine." She laughed, pushing the cup into my hand.
I managed a small smile, "Thanks."
Malia tucked her hair behind her ears, and sipped her drink daintily, before meeting my eyes. "How's it going up there on the boss's floor?" She asked, her red lipstick illuminating her white teeth as she smiled again.
"It's going well," I let out a breath, sipping my coffee, "but the weekends are a nice break." I smiled.
"Tell me about it! I love working under Mr. Greyson, but it's definitely stressful." Malia rolled her eyes and set her cup on the table with a minut shake of her head.
If only you knew...
"So, what are you doing this weekend?" Malia switched the subject, cocking her head to the side. I laughed and shrugged.
"Nothing really, probably just laying low."
She grinned, "Well, as it so happens, I'm having a little get-together at my house tonight, if you want to come?"
"I'm not a big party person-" I started, and she nodded hastily, cutting me off.
"I heard about the shooting." Malia glanced at the door as someone walked into the shop, "but I promise there's not going to be any bullets flying in my apartment. It's just a few friends."
I let out a breath.
How many times am I going to make myself regret going to another party?
I opened my mouth to answer her, and a thought occured to me.
Tony was at my house, and I would have to be in there with him, unless I found some other way to avoid being home. As much as I hated parties and social interactions, I hated him more.
"I might be able to make it...but no promises." I ventured, sipping my coffee thoughtfully.
"Wonderful!"
*
"Oana! I'm so glad you could make it!"
I stepped into the penthouse, forcing a small smile, as Malia greeted and embraced me.
"Welcome!" I was ushered inside and pulled towards a small circle of women. When we approached, a few turned towards me and smiled. But I hardly had time to smile back because Malia started listing off names. I blinked and looked at the group of young women with wide eyes.
"Easy Malia, she's looking like she's on overload." One of the women said with a smile, reaching out to pat my shoulder.
Malia stopped, and gave me a sheepish smile, "Oh, sorry..."
"No, you're fine," I turned towards the group, "but I'm going to forget all of your names at some point tonight; just a fair warning." I held back a smile, as the women around me smiled and laughed.
"And what's your name?" A petite, Asian woman asked me, tossing her pastel pink hair over her shoulder.
"Oana." I glanced around the group. These women, and a few others in the living room, were the only people present at the party.
"What a pretty name!" Someone said, and I murmured a thank you, as the women started back to their previous conversation.
"Oana?"
I turned to Malia expectantly, but she was speaking to the pink-haired woman.
Someone laughed, "Over here Thumbelina."
I felt a tap on my shoulder, and a smile spread over my face as I whirled around, "Kenya!" I exclaimed, not having time to do much else before she wrapped me up in a tight hug.
"Hey, girl!" Kenya let me out of the hug with a sassy smile and a quick flick of her hair. "How's life?" She asked, her black eyes shining as she checked out my outfit.
Oh you know, my mom's dead, my step-dad is crashing at my apartment against my will, and I'm still on the Mafia hit list.
"Not much..." I trailed off, grasping for words to fill the sudden silence that followed my lie.
Kenya raised her perfect eyebrows and crossed her arms, "And are you still an interested party in Mexico?" She asked me, lowering her tone slightly.
I held back a smile before I nodded.
"That sucks." Kenya leaned back on her left foot, glancing from behind me then back to me as someone else entered through the front door.
"What are you doing here?" I asked her, when she turned back to me. Her grin was enough for me to frown suspiciously.
"The boat is in for repairs, so I traveled down here with my mom to stay with the Lawson's for a week."
"What about the party?" I asked her, and she laughed.
"Malia and I are friends. She and I worked a few months on the same floor, before I moved to management on the boat," Kenya told me, "Actually, she's helping Mom and I find an apartment to rent here when we take vacations..." Kenya and I fell into comfortable conversation, catching up from when I'd last seen her. Midway through Kenya's explanation about when she was heading back to Cape Trent, music started booming from the black speakers that had been set up around the living room, and an excited yell rippled through the penthouse. The women immediately started moving to the empty space between the kitchen and the living room, and the lights dimmed. I looked from the dancing women to Kenya, and then back.
"Come on, let's dance!" Kenya laughed, grabbing my arms and pulling me towards the circle of ladies.
I pulled back, planting my feet. "I don't dance!" I shook my head.
A glimmer of mischief flew through Kenya's eyes, and she frowned. "What? I can't hear you!" She shouted as the music volume rose.
I pursed my lips, but she grinned. With one hard yank, she unsettled me, and I was standing in the midst of a bunch of laughing, dancing women. Kenya raised her arms and started shaking her hips in time with the beat, still holding one of my wrists to keep me in place.
"Come on Oana, let you hair down a little!" Kenya called over the beat. I shook my head again, glancing around uncomfortably. My gaze moved to where Malia was dancing with three other girls, and my eyes went wide at how well she could dance in her three inch heels. Feeling a jerk on my arm, I turned to see Kenya shaking her hips and bobbing her head, pulling on my arm as she clapped. Another woman with straight blonde hair was yelling to Kenya over the music, before they both looked at me and smiled.
Pulling against Kenya, I tried to get away when I saw them moving in my direction, but she shook her head and laughed.
"Come on Oana, dance!" She called. The blonde woman had rallied a few of her friends around me, and suddenly I was being encouraged to dance from every direction.
I tried to cross my arms, but one of the girls grabbed my free arm and raised it into the air, bumping hips with me.
I couldn't hold back the laugh that bubbled inside me when the girl shook her hips and wiggled her eyebrows at me. Beside me, Kenya grinned. Letting out a breath, I half-heartedly started moving my hips, tapping my foot to the music. A cheer went up from the girls around me, and some of them clapped.
"Get it!" Someone yelled, and others jumped inside the circle beside me to join in. Malia was one of them.
She smiled, moving over beside me to dance. "You got it!" She called, clapping her hands. I laughed and moved in time to the music, sliding my phone into my bra to dance.
I never really danced except for alone in my room. But these girls were so encouraging, and for some reason, they made me feel comfortable enough to dance with them.
For at least an hour, Kenya, Malia, and Devon (the pink-haired girl) and I danced together, laughing and talking above the music, until we were too tired to dance anymore.
I stumbled off the 'dance floor' with Kenya right behind me, panting and heading towards the kitchen.
"Dang girl, you can really move!" Kenya laughed breathlessly, as we each picked up a glass from the island. I filled mine with water, and Kenya followed suit, before we turned to watch the girls who were still dancing.
"I've never had that much fun dancing before." I admitted, smiling as I sipped my water.
"I could tell." Kenya laughed. I rolled my eyes at her, and reached across the counter to where my phone was lighting up. Frowning, I glanced at the time and I gasped.
"It's almost two in the morning!" I set my drink down and picked up my phone to see twelve messages and three missed calls from David.
Letting out a breath, I sent him a short message saying that I was on my way home now.
"You're leaving already?" Malia came off the dance floor when I waved goodbye to her.
"I have...company. I should get some sleep so I can entertain tomorrow..." I said, choosing my words carefully. 
Entertain? The only thing I'm doing is avoiding my 'company'.
I thought with a small shake of my head.
"Aw, well thanks for coming!" Malia hugged me, and Kenya bid Malia goodbye as well.
"I'm heading out too. I have family stuff tomorrow." She hugged Malia and promised to keep in touch so they could get together while she was still in town. Kenya walked with me to the door where she put her shoes on. We headed out of the penthouse, and into the elevator. We both chatted idly on our way down to the parking lot, but as we stepped outside, we said our goodbyes and headed separate ways in the parking lot. Kenya made me swear to get together with her one more time before she left, and I gave her my number.
Clicking the unlock button for my car, I frowned when nothing happened. Grabbing the handle, I pulled on it, but it was still locked.
"What-"
Suddenly I was knocked forward into my car, and someone's hand shot around my face, covering my mouth. I screamed and thrashed backwards, but whoever was holding me was extremely strong. Yelping, I gasped when the man jerked my arms up behind my back, and shoved my face into my car window. I tried to scream again, but his hand muffled all my sounds.
Panicking, I yanked away from his hold, and started to pull my mouth away from his hand to yell for help, but he caught me again, and pushed my back into the car. This time, he was directly behind me, and his arm wrapped around my throat. Cutting off my air supply, he pulled me to his chest, tightening his hold. I squealed, but I couldn't breath enough to call for help. Slowly, black spots fuzzed my vision, and I struggled wildly against the man's hold, bewildered. As I lost air, my limbs started to go numb, and I struggled harder, knowing if I didn't breathe, I would not remain conscious.
"Oana?"
Kenya's voice sounded across the parking lot, and the man's grip faltered for a moment. I gasped in a breath and sagged against my car.
"Help-" I screamed, but the man jerked his arm around my neck again, cutting me off.
"Oana!" Kenya screamed.
I couldn't breath. I wanted to answer, to yell again, but I couldn't. The black spots came again, and as I heard my name faintly again in the background, I slipped into unconsciousness.