Page 1
Story: Whispered Sins
Chapter 1
Addison
Ismoothed my blouse with my hands as I studied myself in the mirror. I let out a sigh as I took in my reflection, critiquing with a harsh eye. The gray tweed skirt I found on sale last week dug into my stomach, even after I tried doing squats and various exercises to get it to give a little. I must have looked ridiculous huffing and puffing on my bed, trying to squeeze the dang thing on. Thankfully, I lived alone and no one was there to bear witness.
I gave myself one more glance in the mirror and shrugged. I guessed I just had to suck it in and smile through the pain of a size eight. It was a wishful thinking purchase, and one that I needed to make for this afternoon’s meeting. I had to look the part of a professional businesswoman, even though I was really more of a sweatpants kind of girl who worked for a nonprofit. It wasn’t the most glamorous job, but it was a passion. An underpaid one at that. Hence my tiny Brooklyn loft that could pass as a closet. It was cramped, but it was cozy. I didn’t need much.
Anyway, I didn’t take this job for the money. I took it to help those in need, and I remind myself of that as I grab my purse from the kitchen counter and look back at the brick-walled box I lived in. Locking the door behind me, I startled at something brushing against my legs. I jumped back and looked down, expecting to see a rat, but it was just my landlord’s cat, Beatrice. I let out a little sigh of relief and bent down to run my hand across her smooth coat. She purred with pleasure and closed her eyes.
“Beatrice!” I heard echoing up the stairwell.
“She’s here,” I called back.
My landlord emerged at the top of the stairs, catching her breath and clutching her heart as if she had just run up ten flights of stairs, when it really was only two. She had a flair for the dramatic.
“There you are,” she said, rushing toward her cat that was in no distress at all. In fact, she may as well have been asleep.
“Hey Elma,” I said, standing up as she scooped up her precious feline.
“Addison.” She nodded, looking me over. “You look…nice.”
I caught a note of surprise in her voice.
“Thanks,” I replied, smoothing my skirt once more, even though nothing was going to smooth out the rolls I’ve taken on from one too many orders at Ling’s Dynasty on the corner.
“Where are you off to?” she asked.
“I have a meeting with a potential donor.”
“Anyone I would know?” Elma asked, raising a curious brow. She did love to be in everyone’s business. She was a fifty-year-old woman who lived alone with her cat. I didn’t mind entertaining her, though. I figured it was the least I could do for not raising rent on my loft, like the other surrounding buildings.
“Daniel Jacobs?” I asked with a shrug, even though I knew the reaction that would elicit.
At the name, Elma nearly drops Beatrice, who wakes up with a start, her paws jutting into the air like she’d been electrocuted. Another one with a flair for the dramatic. The two were made for each other.
“TheDaniel Jacobs?” she asked.
“Yeah. I guess. The big wig on Fifth Avenue.”
“Do you even know what you’re walking into?” she asked with a narrow voice.
I thought I did. My boss had provided me a lengthy portfolio to study Daniel Jacobs.TheDaniel Jacobs, as Elma put it. He was the typical New York wealthy businessman, like I had dealt with before. But this guy was in a different league. He was the wealthiest businessman on the East Coast, running a tech company with his brother.
I tried to pass the meeting off to someone else, but my boss was adamant that I take it. I didn’t know why. It wasn’t like I had outstanding people skills. They were mediocre at best. Whatever the reason, I spent the last month preparing for this meeting, so I wasn’t going to let Elma get my nerves in a tizzy. They were already doing a fantastic job of that themselves.
“Nothing I can’t handle, I’m sure,” I said, feigning a confidence I hoped convinced her.
“Oh, honey…” she started, shaking her head.
“What?” I asked, trying to hide my exasperation, but also letting my curiosity get the best of me.
“He was New York’s most eligible bachelor. And he knows it. He was like the Leonardo DiCaprio of the tech world.”
“I’m not going on a date with him, Elma.” I laughed.
“Obviously. He only dates supermodels.”
Ouch.
Addison
Ismoothed my blouse with my hands as I studied myself in the mirror. I let out a sigh as I took in my reflection, critiquing with a harsh eye. The gray tweed skirt I found on sale last week dug into my stomach, even after I tried doing squats and various exercises to get it to give a little. I must have looked ridiculous huffing and puffing on my bed, trying to squeeze the dang thing on. Thankfully, I lived alone and no one was there to bear witness.
I gave myself one more glance in the mirror and shrugged. I guessed I just had to suck it in and smile through the pain of a size eight. It was a wishful thinking purchase, and one that I needed to make for this afternoon’s meeting. I had to look the part of a professional businesswoman, even though I was really more of a sweatpants kind of girl who worked for a nonprofit. It wasn’t the most glamorous job, but it was a passion. An underpaid one at that. Hence my tiny Brooklyn loft that could pass as a closet. It was cramped, but it was cozy. I didn’t need much.
Anyway, I didn’t take this job for the money. I took it to help those in need, and I remind myself of that as I grab my purse from the kitchen counter and look back at the brick-walled box I lived in. Locking the door behind me, I startled at something brushing against my legs. I jumped back and looked down, expecting to see a rat, but it was just my landlord’s cat, Beatrice. I let out a little sigh of relief and bent down to run my hand across her smooth coat. She purred with pleasure and closed her eyes.
“Beatrice!” I heard echoing up the stairwell.
“She’s here,” I called back.
My landlord emerged at the top of the stairs, catching her breath and clutching her heart as if she had just run up ten flights of stairs, when it really was only two. She had a flair for the dramatic.
“There you are,” she said, rushing toward her cat that was in no distress at all. In fact, she may as well have been asleep.
“Hey Elma,” I said, standing up as she scooped up her precious feline.
“Addison.” She nodded, looking me over. “You look…nice.”
I caught a note of surprise in her voice.
“Thanks,” I replied, smoothing my skirt once more, even though nothing was going to smooth out the rolls I’ve taken on from one too many orders at Ling’s Dynasty on the corner.
“Where are you off to?” she asked.
“I have a meeting with a potential donor.”
“Anyone I would know?” Elma asked, raising a curious brow. She did love to be in everyone’s business. She was a fifty-year-old woman who lived alone with her cat. I didn’t mind entertaining her, though. I figured it was the least I could do for not raising rent on my loft, like the other surrounding buildings.
“Daniel Jacobs?” I asked with a shrug, even though I knew the reaction that would elicit.
At the name, Elma nearly drops Beatrice, who wakes up with a start, her paws jutting into the air like she’d been electrocuted. Another one with a flair for the dramatic. The two were made for each other.
“TheDaniel Jacobs?” she asked.
“Yeah. I guess. The big wig on Fifth Avenue.”
“Do you even know what you’re walking into?” she asked with a narrow voice.
I thought I did. My boss had provided me a lengthy portfolio to study Daniel Jacobs.TheDaniel Jacobs, as Elma put it. He was the typical New York wealthy businessman, like I had dealt with before. But this guy was in a different league. He was the wealthiest businessman on the East Coast, running a tech company with his brother.
I tried to pass the meeting off to someone else, but my boss was adamant that I take it. I didn’t know why. It wasn’t like I had outstanding people skills. They were mediocre at best. Whatever the reason, I spent the last month preparing for this meeting, so I wasn’t going to let Elma get my nerves in a tizzy. They were already doing a fantastic job of that themselves.
“Nothing I can’t handle, I’m sure,” I said, feigning a confidence I hoped convinced her.
“Oh, honey…” she started, shaking her head.
“What?” I asked, trying to hide my exasperation, but also letting my curiosity get the best of me.
“He was New York’s most eligible bachelor. And he knows it. He was like the Leonardo DiCaprio of the tech world.”
“I’m not going on a date with him, Elma.” I laughed.
“Obviously. He only dates supermodels.”
Ouch.
Table of Contents
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