Flightless Bird

Time and Essence

I sat aghast in the cool leather seat of my boss's car, unbelieving and entirely embarrassed. I had refused him vehemently many times, and yet, here I was.

It had been 15 minutes since we left the park, and I had hardly uttered a word, though he attempted to keep the conversation going in vain. I was petrified of the idea that one wrong word could make his whole demeanor flip on a dime, though he seemed so much more relaxed than I had ever seen him before, if not jovial.

As he drove, I analyzed his features out of the corner of my eye, sneaking a glance when I thought he wasn't looking. He was definitely more comfortable with me than I with him, though I was uncertain why he seemed to relax in such a way. I was not used to his bantering, acting as if he was an old acquaintance instead of the cool and collected man I had met a week ago. His features had an air of softness to them, his eyebrows unfurled and for once, a slight smile was gracing his gorgeous jawline.

Don't let yourself fall down this path, Scarlett.

I turned my attention back to the window before I got too carried away in admiration of his state.

It wasn't until the car stopped that I bothered to pay attention to our surroundings, and panic began to settle in. Mr. Knightly had turned off the car, and I could feel his gaze on the side of my face as my wide eyes stared in horror at the store in front of me.

It was a wonderful boutique, decorated in crystal chandeliers and expensive clothing draped delicately from the racks, as seen from the enormous windows that were its front. It was astonishing.

It was impossible.

How could I shop when I had no money? And, even though I had mentioned I was waiting for my paycheck, how could he expect me to be able to afford a place like this? I had scarcely ever purchased something worth more than $30 to wear, and I could only imagine what a high scale store such as this would charge. A prickle of heat, whether embarrassment or fear, shot up my spine as I turned to face him.

"Sir, I don't think-" I started, before he abruptly cut me off with a small smirk.

"Please, call me Alex when we are outside of the office." He requested simply, daring me to reject him this. I smiled a moment, once again taken aback.

"Alexander, I'm very sorry...but I don't think this is the b-" I started, my tongue relishing in the name briefly before being interrupted again.

"Scarlett...may I call you that?...listen, I can't have my employees wasting their money on necessities to do their jobs successfully. You're part of the face of this company now and I expect you to abide by a certain dress code, of which you've lacked in lately. I can't have my personal assistant wearing the same two skirts every day, now can I?" He said, challenging me to deny him.

I blushed bright red, my embarrassment furthered as I realized that my attire had been noticed, and that I was failing worse than I had feared. It then dawned on me that he must've been staring at my skirts when I wasn't looking, and I felt my cheeks grow hotter before pushing that thought aside.

It was uncomfortable to think that maybe, just maybe, Mr. Knightly knew how terribly poor I was, and that if he did, I had no idea how I could ever repay him for pulling me out of this dark and horrific hole of debt I'm in. I decided he was right, and that if I was to meet his most important investors, I really ought to look my best.

But that he would pay for my clothing, I was again made uncomfortable. How could I accept? He had already gifted me so much, and I haven't even been paid for my labor yet!

"Mr. Kni-, I mean, Alexander, I really cannot accept. You've already offered me so much, and-"

"Scarlett, get out of the car." He demanded, a hard look forming on his features that I hated to see.