The Spell Breaks at Midnight

The limo door shuts, and the quiet feels eerie after a loud night and a light buzz rings in my ear from the music.

Cass immediately pulls out his phone and is typing away. I'm exhausted, yet here he is getting back to work. I don't understand people with his drive. I understand being motivated and hard-working, but he is on another level.

The car drives through the city and I enjoy the view in companionable silence, but I'm a bit surprised when we drive past Mr. Conti's building.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"We're dropping you home obviously," he says without looking up from his phone.

"Um... no, it's not obvious," I say, slightly caught off guard. "I've been staying at your place all week because of some unknown threat from the car chase. I've been given no updates, so I'm confused and I don't have my keys."

He looks at me for a moment with a blank look, then to the driver and says, "Swing by my place and grab Alexa's keys so you can take her home."

He looks back to his phone and continues working and I can't help but feel slightly annoyed. I was uncomfortable staying at his place all week but I was a good sport and went along with everything he asked of me. I spent every evening helping him entertain the Losanges and topped it off with this event tonight. I went above and beyond the call of duty and now I'm tired. All I want to do is go to sleep, but it will be delayed another 30 minutes at least.

I also wasn't planning on walking much more, but I'll need to go up to his place to grab the few things I have there. The thing with heels is, while you're up and dancing, the pain slowly develops so you don't notice, but once you sit down for twenty minutes, it feels like walking on glass when you stand back up.

If he had been the minimal level of considerate, he would have told me about this ahead of time. It would have cost him nothing and I would have had time to prepare.

For the rest of the ride, I look out the window, silently fuming while Cass types away without noticing.

We arrive in the underground parking and as soon as we park, I hop out of the car and walk to the elevator, pressing the button before their doors are even open. They catch up just as the elevator arrives and the doors open. I step in and select the floor and try to calm my emotions before we get upstairs.

I'm normally a calm person and will put up with more crap than I should, but I'm tired, so my fuse is a little short.

The doors open and I walk out first, cutting off Cass. He stutters in his step to avoid bumping into me and it's the first time he looks up from his phone.

"Do you need any help?" he asks.

"You're busy. I'm fine," I say in a clipped tone and I pull off my shoes. I can at least change into flats for the rest of the night.

"I didn't mean me, but I have staff, you know?" he offers.

I look up at him, exasperated and say, "Except for the driver, your staff are all sleeping by now. Had you told me about this before the event, I could have made the necessary arrangements with them, but here we are at 2am and it's too late."

"Well then, just stay for one more night. It's not a big deal," he says, and I can tell by the way his hand with the phone in it is moving that he wants to get back to work.

I roll my eyes and say, "I don't want to stay here. I barely know you and you're my boss. I was only here because I was scared shitless after getting shot at in a car and you insisted this was the only safe place until you found the perpetrator. Now that they're found, I want to sleep in my own bed, not in the guest room of a home belonging to a man I barely know."

I walk away after that, feeling too tired to continue an argument with a person who won't understand. He doesn't know what it's like to be a woman in a world full of dangerous men and he doesn't know what it's like to be a working-class woman living way above her means, supported by a man who can take it away at any time and just has. I didn't expect to keep anything from this week and I don't want to continue this situation, but it's disorienting to be thrown out at 2am after spending the night doing everything you could to help the man.

I grab the small duffel I came with and pack my toiletries. I only take the items I arrived with. None of the items I bought under duress with Mrs. Losange would really fit my life anyway. It only takes about 5 minutes before I'm back in the entry foyer, in jeans and a T-shirt.

Cass sits in a chair that no one ever sits in and I assume it was to wait to see me off.

My feet are swollen and covered in open blisters from my shoes, so I didn't want to put on my socks and shoes until the last second. Since the chair he's in is the only one in the foyer, I take a seat on the floor to put on my socks and shoes.

Cass hears me and watches me as I sit and I know the moment he sees my feet because he asks in shock, "What's wrong with your feet?"

He's moved to kneel in front of me and looks like he's going to reach out for my foot when I stop him, saying, "Please don't touch my foot, it would be weird. It's just some blisters from my shoes, nothing out of the normal."

"You should have told me your feet were hurting. We didn't need to dance so much. I think we got the point across that I wasn't dancing with other partners early enough," he says, completely oblivious to what heels are like.

I roll my eyes and say, "I had blisters long before the dancing started."

"You should have worn different shoes," he offers.

"Unless I had gone in sneakers this would have happened. There was no way I was wearing anything other than heels with that dress," I explain.

"Surely there must be more comfortable heels," he says, but he looks at me questioningly.

"No. I hope all the men in that room aren't as oblivious as you because every woman in that room wearing heels probably had a blister by the end of the cocktail hour unless they were sitting," I explain. I can tell by his expression that Cass is processing the information, so I take that moment to finally start putting on my socks.

"Wait, don't put those on. You need to cover the open wounds with bandaids and they need to be cleaned," he says.

He starts to get up but I pull him back down and say, "Don't bother, I plan to take off the socks as soon as I get home so the wounds are in open air and can heal faster. I'll make sure to wash them then. I just need the socks on to get home so the sores don't rub against my shoes. That would suck."

I attempt to start putting on my socks for the millionth time when Cass's hand comes down on mine, stopping me yet again. "Please, stay for tonight and the staff can help you get back to your place tomorrow. I wasn't thinking. I figured it would be as easy as dropping you off," he says. I look at him and I can see in his eyes that he really means it, but I still waver.

"Please, you've been a great help this week. I can't have you going home in this state. I'm sorry I was so short-sighted. In business, I always think of every angle before making a decision and I should have done that tonight. Please let me fix this," he says. I'm sure this is the closest he's come to begging ever, so I nod.

He helps me up and I say, "Okay, but just tonight and I'll be out in the morning."

"Okay," he says, looking mollified.