Savage Love

Then, her phone rang out on her desk.

“Kallie Semple, Chaos To Construct, where an organized life is a happy life. How can I help you today?”

“Hi! Yes. So, um, I saw one of your advertisements online, and I could really use your help if you have time.”

“Of course I have the time for you,” she said. “What’s the problem?”

“You do physical organization, right?”

“I do make house calls, yes.”

“Do you have any for today? I’m really overwhelmed, and I’m sinking in so much stuff.”

Kallie toggled with her calendar as the woman on the other end of the line sniffled.

“I actually have two free hours from ten to noon today.”

“Oh my gosh. Could I book you? I’ll pay you whatever you ask. I’ve been trying to get my things organized and get them donated to charity and I can’t see my floor.”

“Don’t worry. Take a deep breath, Miss...?”

“Susan. Gloria Susan.”

“Miss Susan,” she said. “Take a deep breath. Chaos thrives on anxiety. Give me your address, and I’ll be there promptly at ten.”

“Thank you so much. Really. Thank you.”

“Of course. It’s not a problem. I’ll even help you pick out a charity that rings true with your values.”

“Really? You’ll do that.”

“Of course I will. Now, what's your address?”

Kallie took down the address and the phone number of the woman on the other end of the line. Miss Susa kept telling her she would pay her whatever was necessary, and Kallie kept trying to calm her down. In all of the years she had been doing this, Kallie knew that someone who was this wound up with anxiety probably had the situation blown way out of proportion. But she had the hours free, and James had spoiled the idea of her sitting at her desk for the morning.

It wasn't until she hung up the phone and agreed to be there in an hour that she recognized the address.

It belonged to the same building Ash lived in.

Forty-five minutes later, Kallie was looking up at the tall, shining edifice of Ash’s apartment building. Kalie sighed as she looked back at her car. She had been tricked. Like James tried to trick her that morning. There was no one in this building by the name of “Gloria Susan.” There was no one in that building who would call out to her for her services, because no one in that building would give away their stuff. They would simply leave it in a closet the way Ash’s father's whatever-numbered wife left all of her clothes behind in the divorce.

Should she even bother going inside?

“Miss Semple?”

Kallie was pulled from her trance before her eyes fell onto a man standing in front of her.

“Yes?” she asked.

“Follow me, please.”

Kallie frowned. Of course Ash had thought of everything. The doorman didn't even turn back to look and see if she was following. She could get in her car and drive away. Act like this never happened and go back to her desk. Back to her work. Back to her life. But work was waiting for her? She had intentionally lightened her schedule to almost nothing because of how she thought her life was going to pan out.

She wasn't in control of the situation, and Kallie was tired of using her energy to fight. She was tired of fighting for control. Fighting for her voice. Fighting for her right to make decisions. Ash had put her on a path toward him, and he had gone to great lengths to get her back out to his place. James just sent her a necklace and then dangled the receipt in front of her face. Like a doggy treat for an animal.

At least Ash didn’t treat her like an animal.

Kallie followed after the doorman and stepped behind him into the elevator. He rode up with her all the way to the penthouse floor, then he escorted her to where she needed to be. She stood in front of Ash’s door, and the man even knocked for her.

Heaven forbid she lifts her own fist do anything for herself.

The doorman nodded at her with a broad smile that swept across his cheeks. Did he know what was going on? Or was it in his job description to be that cheerful all the time? He left for the elevator, leaving her alone and listening to the footfalls of Ash’s feet, and she debated on whether or not to run again. She was tired of fighting, but was she tired of running?