Authors: Marisa Logan
Chapter 5
I spent the rest of the weekend relaxing at home, rereading Jane Eyre. I noticed that Mr. Steel had a lot in common with Mr. Rochester: grumpy, introverted, dark and handsome. I felt just as under-appreciated and plain as Jane.
Most of my childhood I shuffled from foster home to foster home. I left my last group home to go to college without looking back. For the past few years I took care of myself without anyone to depend on or help.
I paid for college by working through the entire four years. I found a job, moved out on my own. I’ve done everything on my own. It’s better that way. The last time I let someone help it didn’t end well.
Olivia left me some more clothes and makeup, along with instructions for dressing for work.
“And don’t forget,” she admonished me before leaving, “I want to see you dress up everyday for work. If I catch you without any makeup, I’m dragging you into the bathroom during lunch break and redoing everything.”
Woe is me if I didn’t at least make an effort before work Monday morning. I spent most of the night waking up and grabbing my alarm, afraid I'd overslept like almost every morning.
Finally, I gave up on going back to sleep and dressed, carefully making up my face and braiding my hair back. Most of the shorter fringe burst out of the pins and spread in a halo around my face. I sighed and left it. Olivia couldn’t fault me for trying.
I arrived at work early. Olivia sat at her spot in the lobby. She gave me a quick grin and thumbs up as I passed by her towards the elevator.
“Your hair looks adorable,” she hollered as the elevator doors shut.
I laughed to myself and played with a free strand, twirling it around my finger.
The doors swung open. I glanced at the light board above the door. It stopped on a few floors below my own.
Suddenly Mr. Steel ducked in, his briefcase banging into the doors as they closed. I could hear someone calling for us to hold the doors but he ignored them, jamming the closed doors button until the elevator moved on.
He looked at me and jabbed the elevator stop button. I flinched. He’s going to fire me right now, before I even make it to my desk…
“I’ve been waiting to catch you. I don’t want anyone to overhear us,” he said, setting his case on the floor.
“Oh,”
He stared at me for a long time. Reaching towards me, he pulled the hairband out of my braid and shook my hair free, pins falling down as he pulled his hands through it.
“I hate when you pull your hair back, Gwennie,”
Gwennie?
“You really don’t remember, do you? You’ve blocked out the foster home years too. I don’t blame you,” he murmured as he stepped closer to me, pressing me back against the wall.
“Sir, I don’t-”
“I’m sorry you saw Stefanie at my house. I wanted you to visit when you were comfortable around me. You don’t like to be around men? You hide from me like an injured bird, hopping from task to task and never letting anyone help you bandage your injured wings.”
He brushed his knuckles across my cheek. I flushed, my nipples tingling. I could smell his scent, wood smoke and dirt. I leaned towards him and he smiled, his face lighting up.
“I think you do remember a little. You can remember me if you try. Kirk shouldn’t make you hide from the world,” he said, his eyes drawing me in.
Kirk? What did he know about Kirk?
The elevator bell began ringing. He growled and canceled the elevator halt. By the time the doors swung open on our floor, he had reverted back to the Mr. Steel I knew, his briefcase in hand, a hard, stoney face glancing back at me.
“I’ll see you in a moment, Gwen.”
He stalked off down the hall towards the meeting rooms. I stood there, transfixed, as the doors closed behind me. Patting my hair, I found it loose and free, the pins and hairband gone. He must have kept the hairband when he pulled it out.
How did he know about Kirk?
Why did Gwennie sound so familiar to me?
And why did I want him so badly?
***
Olivia met me for our lunch break at my desk. She frowned as she saw me. I hadn’t had time to even try to pull my hair back so it floated in rough curls everywhere. It got in my way as I tried to do everything. I threatened it with a pair of scissors under my breath halfway through the morning and it seemed to deflate a bit so that I could see the screen.
“What happened? Your hair was so cute this morning. It looks like a bush now,” Olivia moaned.
Before I could answer, she had my hair scraped back into a low ponytail. Nodding with approval, she picked up my purse and waved it in front of me.
“Come on. Every growing girl needs lunch to make it through the afternoon.”
“Yes, just let me shut down the computer. I need to talk to you anyway,” I said.
She followed me to the elevator, puzzled. Thankfully, she waited until we made it through the front doors of the building.
“Are you okay?” she asked as we walked towards the food trucks circled around the huge fountain near us.
I shook my head, tears threatening to flow. She noticed them immediately.
“Why don’t you sit here, “ she said gently, “and I’ll get some food and drinks.”
I nodded, afraid to speak. I handed her my wallet and she pushed it back at me.
“I can definitely treat you this time.”
I watched as she scurried over to the food truck, BurgerTime. I wasn't sure I could even explain how confused and hurt I felt.
I deliberately avoid any mention of Kirk or even remembering that home. How did Mr. Steel even know about it? Did everyone know? Did they whisper behind their backs about the little orphan charity case Mr. Steel hired?
I knew I was under-qualified for the job but I foolishly hoped I'd impressed everyone during my interview. He gave me the job because somehow, somewhere, he knew me. He knew about Kirk. I didn’t want to remember any of those years at Kirk’s. But I needed to talk to someone. Someone I trusted. Someone that would care.
Olivia returned, her arms full of food and a couple bottles of water.
“I wasn’t sure what you wanted so I got the greasiest comfort food I could buy.”
She handed me an order of fries and a burger. I sat them down between us on the edge of the fountain as she settled in and munched on her fries. I picked at my own. I felt slightly nauseated thinking about our talk.
“So what's going on?” She asked.
“Have I ever told you anything about my childhood?”
“No. I mean, I know you grew up in the foster system but you don’t really talk about yourself.”
I tossed a fry to one of the pigeons. It hooted at me and snatched it up. Several more flocked over, pecking at the ground and looking up expectantly. I tossed down a few more and watched the feathers fly.
“I spent most of my life in foster homes or group homes. My parents passed away when I was a baby in an accident and my grandparents were too old to take me in. I can’t remember most of them from when I was small.
The first one I remember was with an older man named Kirk. He seemed sweet at first, treated me almost like a pet. The other kids were jealous when I got to sit in his lap at dinner or special treats like trips to the store or small toys. By the time I was six, I thought I had a perfect home. There was no way I would be sent away.”
“And then what happened?”
Olivia shooed one of the pigeons away with the toe of her shoe as she watched more of my fries vanish without me taking a bite. She placed a hand on mine.
“What did he do?”
“Well, I...I guess he wanted more than he could have. He started telling me how beautiful I would be when I was older. He dressed me up in clothes that I know now were much too old for a six year old. His hands started wandering when he held me and he wanted me by him whenever I wasn’t at school or my appointments with the social worker.
It wasn’t so bad until he had a new placement. A boy a few years older than me. We spent time together because we felt like outsiders. I was the first girl Kirk ever took as a foster placement and he was overweight and shy; the other boys avoided us so we kind of banned together. We would read together outside under the one tree in Kirk’s yard. He helped me with homework and kept me from the other boys when they were mean.
“So he treated you like a young sister,” she said, motioning me to eat. I took a small bite of the burger.
“It was nice. Until Kirk noticed how much time he and I were spending together. He got angry with us, threatened to have the boy sent away to another placement. We kept quiet about being together after that until one day when Kirk returned home from work early. He sent the older boys out and took me upstairs where he…”
“He took advantage of you, didn’t he?” Olivia said, her face hard and angry.
I felt the tears begin to fall. I gathered up the trash and turned away to toss it. Olivia met me at the trash can. She put her arm around me and I stiffened.
“My friend called the cops and they came just as Kirk started to beat him in the living room for interfering. They found me barely conscious upstairs. I fought back and, from what the doctor said, I had a few broken ribs and contusions on my face from where Kirk pressed me down onto the bed. The cops threw Kirk in jail. We were all put in new foster homes and I never saw my friend again.”
Olivia sighed deeply.
“Now I know why you keep to yourself so much. You’re afraid to let anyone in,”
“If it hadn’t been for me, none of those boys would have lost their foster home. Some of them had lived with Kirk for years without any trouble. I came in and ruined everything.”
“No, you didn’t,” Olivia snapped, “he was sick. He shouldn’t have had any children in his care.”
We grabbed up our purses. Olivia checked her phone.
“I’m sorry, sweetie. We need to get back. We only have thirty minutes.”
I nodded and tucked my drink into my bag. She tucked her free arm into mine as we walked, pulling me closer for a shoulder bump.
“You know, I’m glad you told me. I hate that you had to go through that but now I know why it took you so long to let me in. I was beginning to think I smelled or something.”
I chuckled half-heartedly.
“Now I know it's just because you needed to make sure I wasn’t crazy or something. I can stop applying deodorant every hour or so. It’s getting expensive.”
A burst of laughter escaped me. I shook my head at Olivia as we entered the building.
“I’m glad I haven’t run you off,” I said as we reached her desk in the lobby.
“You haven’t,” she replied, settling in, “and Gwen?”
“Yes?”
“You don’t need to be alone with anything that bothers you. I’m right here, just a call away.”
I smiled and entered the elevator.
***
I was happier at the end of the day. Mr. Steel wasn't in the office for most of it so I had time to deal with some of my confusion and anxiety.
Besides Olivia, I don’t think anyone else knew about my years in foster care or Kirk. I wanted to ask Mr. Steel exactly what he knew. Every time I was around him I felt different, less introverted. He felt so familiar that I couldn't help but open up around him. I was afraid I'd let go completely and never be able to guard myself around him again.
I wished I'd never taken this job. At the same time, I’m glad I moved out of my comfort zone. I had a dear friend in Olivia. My attraction to men wasn’t as dormant as I thought; maybe I am healed after all. All I need to do is find another job, something that allows me to keep my apartment, and food on my table, without all of this tension.
As I prepared to leave, the phone on the desk rang. I grabbed it, my purse and coat tucked under my arm.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Steel’s office.”
“Gwen.”
My mouth went dry.
“Yes, Mr. Steel?”
“I’m downstairs in a car right outside the door. Meet me there,” his voice husky but smooth rushed over me, “don’t keep me waiting.”
He hung up. I put the receiver back into the holder, blinking.
He was downstairs, waiting for me.
I really wanted to dart out of the building, run all the way to my apartment and lock myself in. I could feel my heart pounding.
I rushed downstairs before I could even think. I said a quick goodbye to Olivia, who watched me through the glass front doors as I approached the car.
The door popped open as I walked up and I got in, closing the door behind me. Mr. Steel sat next to me. He gestured at the driver to continue on before turning to me.
I was a mess, my hair flying everywhere, sweat ruining my makeup. He didn’t seem to notice, took my coat and purse from my arms and tossed them on the seat across from us.
“How do you know about me? How do you know Kirk?” I blurted out, staring at him.
He smirked and reached out, pulling me closer to him. My hand fell on his chest as I leaned over. His lips touched mine and I moaned. I couldn’t stop myself as I leaned into him, my hand wrapping around his neck. He kissed me deeply, his tongue teasing mine before letting me go.