Suck it up ll

Luckily, Elma did not have to struggle for too long because Reece and the pilot instantly jumped out of their seats. Immediately, Reece came to where Riccardo sat and picked up the briefcase on his behalf.

"Sir?"

Riccardo waved him to step aside as he got down himself.

"What in the world is wrong with her face?" Reece blurted as soon as he spotted Elma's face turning so green, and bloated.

"She needs to let out some tension. So, unless you want your clothes covered up in more dirt, you might need to give her some distance." Riccardo hinted to him.

Elma managed to crawl towards the open door. She'd heard all that her boss had just now told the nosy man.

Elma did not like that he had to make her struggles so public, but she could do nothing to stop him now.

Letting her belly sleep on the chopper's floor, she pulled out her head and let out everything. She felt so gross afterward. Since the least she wanted to do was keep looking at her vomit, Elma spun her head around until her gaze latched onto the view of the chopper's ceiling.

"Do you feel better now?" Riccardo's voice stayed near her ears as he said that.

"I think so," Elma said as she just lay there still. Her chest was heaving up and down with every fast rhythm of her heartbeat. At some point, she giggled a little but had to refrain from looking more like a fool because what was so funny about any of her experiences until now?

"It was nice of you to spare my shoe of all this content but imagine if you had hurt yourself instead."

"I didn't," Elma paused to heave out a sigh first. "I did not hurt myself by refusing to take your shoe. What would have broken me more was if I had used your shoe for that. So far, your day has been worse off with me in it already. I couldn't have that on my conscience as well."

"Who said you made my day any worse, Elma? Well, apart from the time Mr. Marseille— I mean, my now-deceased business partner, ever since he got your accolades for him being late, that bit did upset me, but every other thing that followed was pure coincidence. Take the Bistro hit as us getting into the wrong place at the wrong time."

Elma listened and quickly made sense of his words. Now that she thought about it, he had decided to have them eat at that Bistro, not her. He was the one that suggested it when they awaited Marcus and her phone.

"I got a call from Marcus, by the way," Riccardo spoke suddenly.

"Oh, he's alive?" Elma jumped up to her knees. "Can I have my phone back?"

Riccardo frowned at her excess show of excitement. He had been standing there for the past minute and she wouldn't look at him, but this. Was she truly so happy over getting a chance to talk to her boyfriend again? — Ted, was his name!

"First, Marcus has no reason to die soon and two they found your phone. Happy?"

"Yes, I am," Elma pleaded with her eyes for Riccardo to help her down from there. Grudgingly, he did, and him holding her waist so roughly didn't feel at all romantic like the last time. Elma felt akin to one getting squeezed, but even that did not seem to hurt as much as she'd hoped. Was she seriously having a crush on this guy?

Elma cleared her throat the instant she landed her heels on the tarmac road. Riccardo made a good show of backing away the minute he helped her down.

There was a way his eyes were presently looking into her like he could read her thoughts and see her for the slut she truly was — a slut who wanted to be under his weight as he screwed into her right against the wall.

'Damn it, Elma. When did you become such a whore!' Elma thought as she face-palmed herself in her head, of course.

She shook her head many times in the present.

"Huh, everything okay, Miss Gray?"

Elma got thrown back into the present when she was once more looking at his fine eyes. "Is there a reason you would ask that, Sir?"

A fleet of cars had at this time lined up a short distance behind Di Mauro. So, Elma took it as a cue that they would leave soon.

"You were shaking your head a lot just now or you didn't know that?"

"Oh," Elma blurted. "I just remembered the reason why. Uh, we were talking of Marcus then, you, out of the blue, said 'they' as in 'they found your phone'. I thought only Marcus went back to get it?"

"What does it matter if I had five people go back to get it?"

"Wait! They were five?!! As in, Marcus and four others? That is a bit much, Sir."

Riccardo turned south, as he headed for the cars. Elma followed suit realizing he probably hadn't heard her last words to him.

"What should concern you is having your phone found maybe then you can get to reach your —"

Riccardo halted on purpose. It would be foolish to admit how jealous he was getting just from thinking of that Ted guy. Did Elma like him that much?

"Who would I be able to reach?" Elma asked suddenly, prompting him to speak.

With crinkled eyes, Riccardo told her, "Don't tell me you already forgot about your worried aunt?"

"Oh, right! My aunt Marilyn!" Elma exclaimed with her index on her right cheek.

Riccardo huffed simply. "Get in the car, Miss Gray. The day's not over yet. We've got a couple of stuff to do at the office."

Right, Elma thought. It was still morning. She sighed.

"Did I just hear you complain?" Riccardo asked with a glare in his gaze. "Is it that you don't want to hold onto your job or something?"

"No, it's not that, Sir," Elma replied to him.

"Good. In that case, every other thing is irrelevant," Riccardo spoke dismissively and got in the car himself.

Elma wasted no time doing the same.