Getting it Right

ACCIDENTS WILL HAPPEN

S A S H A P O V

Spent another night in an expensive hotel eating my funds away, I'll be out of cash before I get my next paycheck. 

Need to find somewhere swiftly before I'm out of funds. Hate breakups, and they never go to plan, causing you to feel as if you're at fault and guilty. 

Shower, dressed, ready to leave, heading to work and collecting the boss's breakfast on the way. 

Reached my desk, lean to place my coffee down, and the lid came off, wasting it everywhere. Shake my head, grab tissues to place over the mess to soak up the liquid.

Stepped over to his door to knock. "Yes." He replies. Open the door to step to his desk, place his coffee and his breakfast. 

He glances up to get my attention. "We're needed on the other side of town. My father's having an emergency meeting." Smiled and stepped back to my desk to clean the mess.

Grabbed the bin, threw the wet tissue in, placed the bin on the floor, and headed to the kitchen to pour myself a coffee. 

Turned to stroll back to my desk when I collided with Bret, wasting hot coffee all over me and all over my clean attire. "Fucking great." I shout, and stare at him. Yep, I'm glaring at him with built up rage, which is ready to explode, and he's in my line of fire. 

He steps back to gawk at me, laughing. Which is the wrong thing to do pal. "Sasha, I'm sorry, but you should watch where you're stepping." His words caused me to make fists with my hands, wanting to punch him, vent anger, to release the rage. I'm frustrated, tired, pissed off and wet from him spilling coffee over me. 

Proceeded to raise my hand to wipe his smirk from his face, but my boss spoke, getting my attention. "Sasha, we need to leave." Mr Waitland tells me, and I glare at Bret. "Bret, you're so lucky I didn't punch you." I said through gritted teeth. 

He leans into me to whisper. "You mean like you did to the boss." I shoot him an expression of discontent, then glance at Mr Waitland, and my hackles are up. Oh, boy, I'm at the point of no return.  

He's got a blackeye, but I didn't do that. "I'll have you know I didn't punch the boss." I shout loud enough for everyone to hear me, including my boss, who raises a brow, and I don't give a damn.

Shoved past him to my desk, pick up the iPad, still with a wet top, skirt and noticeable coffee stain. "Sir, I'll need to change." I said as we stepped to the elevator. 

"We could stop at a clothing store on the way." Roll my eyes. Mr Waitland and I entered the elevator, leaned against the wall, inhaled a deep breath, gazed up at the ceiling. Why me? 

Waited for the door to open, not wanting to be in such a confined space with me at boiling point. "So, what actually happened between you and Sarge?" He asks me. "Sir, I'd rather keep it to myself. I don't think talking to you about my sex life is going to help my situation. Look at the mess you're in. What causes you to think you could give me advice when it's clear you're just the same as any other guy who cheats?" He nods, cocking his head. 

"You got me there." He adds. "And for another thing. It's bad enough with the gossip in the office, they all think I punched you. Sometimes I wish I did." My mouth is running away. The door opens.

We step out to the limo, "After you, sir." He smirks, slides in I follow. Stopped by a store briefly to get new clothes to wear, charge it to the company account. How nice of him. Yep, mocking him in my head.

***

Arrived at his father's building, opened the door, entered the lobby where people halted to stare at us.