The Office

"My girl looks beautiful," Arturo said.

"Thank you. Sometimes I think you act more like my father than Norberto does."

"You'll always have my support."

"Even if I leave?"

"You're leaving?"

"If I can convince this Mr. Adrian — yes, I'm leaving."

"Convince him of what?"

"To accept Norberto's deal. To take me as his wife."

He slammed the brakes. I saw his hands squeeze the steering wheel.

"Arturo—"

"That's wrong! He can't force you to marry someone you don't love!"

"I know. But it's either that or something worse. Arturo, please calm down. I don't think it'll be worse than my family. Please keep driving — if I wait any longer, my nerves are going to make me pass out."

"Forgive me, sweetheart."

"It's fine. Don't worry."

He drove on. I felt weak — probably from not eating, and the nerves weren't helping. We arrived at the company. The building was enormous, dozens of floors. When I walked in, a receptionist greeted me.

"Hello."

"Who are you looking for?" the receptionist said.

"The owner of the company."

"Do you at least know his name, little girl? Or do you even know who you're looking for?"

"Adrian."

She called on speakerphone. I heard his cold voice answer.

"What do you want?" Adrian said.

"Sorry to bother you, sir. There's a —" she looked me over — "girl down here asking for you."

"Name. Or do you think I'm a mind reader?"

She looked at me. "Ambar Acosta."

"Send her up. I'll be waiting."

She hung up. The receptionist gave me a dirty look and pointed at the elevator. "Twentieth floor."

"Isn't there another way up?"

"You think you're going to climb twenty flights of stairs? I doubt it."

She laughed. I walked to the elevator. The doors opened, and I saw a young man rushing toward the receptionist's desk, grabbing some papers, and sprinting to catch the elevator. I held the door for him. He made it in, out of breath. The doors closed. I hoped I could hold it together.

"Thanks," he said, still catching his breath. "You saved me from taking the stairs." I just smiled. "What brings you in?"

"I'm here to see the owner."

"How do you know I'm not him?"

"I met him last night. His name is Adrian."

"Well, can't argue with that." He extended his hand. "Erick. His brother. Vice president of the company."

"Ambar. Nice to meet you."

"Pretty name."

The elevator stopped on the fifteenth floor. My breathing sped up. He noticed and grabbed hold of me.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm — claustrophobic. I won't last much longer."

He pulled out his phone and called someone. "I need the elevator fixed now. There's a girl with claustrophobia stuck in here. Hurry!"

He hung up, turned me around so I was facing outward.

"Don't look at anything else," he said. "Look outside. The sky, the view. Breathe slowly, calmly. Inhale through your nose, exhale through your mouth."

I did. Slowly, I calmed down. The elevator started moving again. I leaned against the wall, steadier now.

"Better?"

"Yes. Thank you."

The doors opened. We stepped out, and Adrian was standing right there. I lowered my head.

"What's up, bro?" Erick said.

"You call this showing up on time?" Adrian said.

"Overslept. Won't happen again. This girl's here for you."

"What are you doing here, Ambar?" Adrian said. "Look at me."

I raised my eyes. I trembled under his gaze. It felt like he was scanning me.

"I asked you something."

"My father sent me."

"I see. My office."

He walked ahead and I followed. He opened the door and motioned me inside. He came in behind me. I heard the lock click.

"Sit down."

I did. He sat in his chair and studied me.

"Talk."

"My dad—"

"No, Ambar. I want to hear from you."

"I... I'm here for... the deal."

"Let me ask you something. Doesn't it bother you being used as a bargaining chip? How many times have they done this before?"

"It's... the first time."

"And you're fine with being used like this? Don't you have any dignity?"

He slammed his fist on the desk. I flinched.

"Come here."

I stood and walked over. He motioned for me to turn around. I did. I heard him stand. He brushed my hair aside. His hand slid down my shoulder, along my arm. He gripped my waist and pressed my back against his chest. I trembled with fear, with helplessness. I wanted to run — but that wouldn't solve anything.

"I'll expect you at my house tonight," he said. "My driver will pick you up at seven. I'll verify that you're a virgin. Make yourself beautiful."

He released me and turned me to face him. We stood close.

"Ask your father how much he wants and bring the number tonight. I'll be waiting. You can go."

"Yes, sir."

He kissed my forehead. I walked out.

Adrian

Ambar left. I wouldn't treat her the way her father wanted. I was pretty sure I knew what he was after — getting rid of his daughter. The door opened and Erick walked in, dropping into the chair across from me.

"So tell me," he said.

"It's a long story."

"I've got time," he said, glancing at his watch.

Erick was twenty-five, my only brother. Cheerful, funny. I decided to fill him in.

Ambar

I got home. The second I crossed the threshold, a slap knocked me to the floor. My lip bled.

"Can't you do anything right?" Norberto said. "If you're back, it must mean something went wrong."

"Dad, it's not what it looks like—"

"Let her talk, Dad," Pablo said.

"Stay out of this. So what'd you accomplish? Nothing. You're worthless. We should've aborted you when we had the chance. You're useless."

"But—"

A kick to my stomach cut me off. I lost my breath, coughed, and spat blood. Pablo crouched beside me.

"Get out of the way, Pablo," Norberto said.

"Let her talk first."

"Move, or you're both getting it."

He held a belt in his hand. Before Pablo could respond or Norberto could swing, I forced myself to speak.

"He's expecting me tonight," I said. "His driver's picking me up at seven. He wants to see me — probably to spend the night together. And he said to send him your price. He'll pay it."

Norberto smiled. Then laughed.

"Maybe you're not as stupid or holy as I thought. Guess I shouldn't hit you, then — wouldn't want to ruin the merchandise. Get some rest. Word is he likes it rough. He'll have his way with you. I want you looking perfect by seven. I'll come up with a number. Pablo."

Pablo looked at him.

"Don't defend her again," Norberto said.

"I did it because I doubt Adrian wants damaged goods."

"Good point. I'll leave you to it."

He walked out. Pablo pulled me into his arms.

"It's over now."

"It hurts."

"Let me take a look."

He carried me to my room. I changed into shorts and a shirt. He examined me — a bruise spread across my stomach from the kick.

"I'm fine."

"You should eat something. Take a shower. I'll get you some cream for your stomach, fix up your lip, and then you eat."

"Thank you."

I showered, applied the cream, and he cleaned my lip carefully. He brought me soup. I ate slowly — I hadn't known he could cook so well. I set the bowl aside, laid down with my head on his lap. He pulled a blanket over me, and between his gentle strokes through my hair, I fell asleep.

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