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Title: Off Balance
Author: L.E. Royal
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: August 10, 2020
Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex
Pairing: F/NB
Length: 64900
Genre: Contemporary, NineStar Press, LGBTQIA+, Romance, contemporary, family-drama, lesbian, nonbinary, older/younger, disability, cerebral palsy, single mother, custody battle
Synopsis
When she lands her dream job, Maya Scott thinks her luck may finally be about to change. Eager to prove herself a successful adult and win back custody of her young daughter, Maya is determined to excel at the Mars Fund. Her new boss, New York’s notorious ice queen, Elena Mars, could prove difficult to please. Their relationship gets off to a rocky start and Maya learns from her coworkers, some who love her while others loathe her, that Elena has Cerebral palsy.
Embarrassed by her assumptions, Maya avoids Elena until the appearance of her Elena’s young daughter at the office opens a line of communication and provides some common ground. A tentative connection blossoms between them and Maya realizes there is much more to Elena than the outward appearance. Between the complexities of learning about disability and navigating the distance between them in age and wealth, they find that what matters in the end is the family we choose.
Excerpt
Off Balance
L.E Royal© 2020
All Rights Reserved
Hot
coffee soaked the sleeve of her shirt. The elevator was packed tight as
they ascended the staggering height of the office building. The shining
chrome of The Mars Fund sign greeted Maya. She stumbled into the lobby,
finally catching her breath and then losing it again when she looked at
the opulent marble clock on the wall. She was late.
Blonde hair
billowing out behind her, she burst into the office space, cheeks
beginning to flame as all the eyes in the room turned to her and her
urgent entrance.
“Maya, you made it!” Margaret, the overly
friendly lady with the pixie cut and cardigan who had interviewed her
for the position, called to her.
“I am so sorry. The bus was late and there was a huge line for the elevator.”
Margaret
was already waving off her explanation as she led her over to the desk
she had inhabited the previous day, today being her second as a project
coordinator at the Mars Fund.
“We’re all still working on the preliminaries for the winter benefit,” Margaret explained.
Maya
nodded as she hurriedly stripped out of her leather jacket, grateful as
ever for the relaxed dress code. She plopped down into her swivel
chair, tight jeans and a thin black T-shirt clinging to her body. She
rushed to turn on her computer.
“Miss Mars is back at work today.”
Maya looked up. She studied Margaret as she offered her a noticeably tentative smile with the words.
“It’s
probably best if you just stay out of her way while you’re getting the
hang of things. I imagine she’ll be busy in her office all day, anyway,
catching up from yesterday.”
With a pat on her shoulder Margaret
was gone before she could reply, and finally, she was free to take a
breath and let some of the stress from her hectic journey to work leave
her. She needed this job; she could not afford to mess up.
Once
she’d logged into her computer, she went back to the list of attendees
she’d received and continued to work on emailing each of them to inform
them of the benefit event the Mars Fund was planning for late in the
year.
“Glad to see you made it, love.” A male voice interrupted
her, and she threw a quick smile to Kevin, her neighbor to the left, who
seemed to be reclining in his chair doing very minimal work as he had
done most of the day before. “Better watch yourself now, Scott. The evil
old boss lady is back, and she’ll eat a pretty little thing like you
all up, given half a chance.”
At first, she had been glad for
Kevin, a seemingly instant friend, but as yesterday had worn on, and he
leaned over toward her again, he was starting to irk her.
“Looks like you’re going to be on her hit list, too, if you don’t get back to work,” she told him.
Seeming to take the hint, he tipped his head in silent concurrence and turned back to his own screen.
Getting
lost in a blur of names and emails, she tried not to think too much
about her boss. The woman was a bitch—that was the impression she’d
received from the moment she stepped foot in the building. In her
interview Margaret had been sweet, a little nosy but warm and welcoming,
yet even she had clammed up when talking about the elusive Miss Mars.
The
mood yesterday was jovial. Kathryn had perched on the edge of her desk
for a good half an hour, and Maya was surprised to find she liked her as
well as Dave and Graham, who had both welcomed her to TMF too. Today,
the atmosphere was positively somber in comparison. The office was
silent save for Kathryn talking softly into her phone and the click of
keyboards. The presence of their boss hovering ominously over them all
was palpable.
Another hour bled away, and she was pleased with the
progress she was making on her list. Clicking out of her email program
and back to her spreadsheet, she scanned down until she reached the next
name. Robert Holt. Her blood turned to ice in her veins, and without
thinking, she closed the window and shot up out of her seat. Heading for
the restroom, she tried unsuccessfully to steady her ragged breathing.
She
burst through the door, let it swing closed behind her, and leaned back
against the cool wood, shutting her eyes. Her heart was hammering, a
frantic staccato she fought to get under control. I can’t let him ruin
this for me, again.
The shock of seeing that name, of having it
touch even this, taint it so soon, sent panic spilling through her,
choking her and making it hard to breathe.
She opened her eyes at
the sound of a toilet flushing and watched a woman step out of the
stall. Jarred completely from her panic by the surprise of not being
alone, her mood dissolved into a shy sort of embarrassment because this
woman was gorgeous.
The stranger’s dark eyes nailed her to the
door, and even glaring daggers in her direction, Maya couldn’t help but
think she was beautiful and probably ten years older than herself. Thick
mahogany hair hung down to her shoulders; she had smooth caramel skin
and dark expressive eyes. A beat passed between them, too fast and too
slow, and Maya pushed off the door, meaning to introduce herself. When
the woman moved forward, her shoulders rocked back and forth, her hands
clenched and jumped by her sides, and oddly enough she looked like she
was dancing.
“I—um, having a good day?”
Not her greatest entrance, she could admit.
The
woman’s stoic expression was completely at odds with the jovial
movement of her body, and Maya smiled tentatively at her, wondering if
perhaps she was drunk or high.
She gripped the porcelain of the
sink with tan fingers and seemed to steady herself some. As she turned
to fully face Maya her head bobbed slightly, sending her hair dancing
around her face. She was undeniably beautiful and odd.
“Do I look like I’m having a wonderful day?”
The
words were pure venom, dripping disdain, a dark fire blazing in her
eyes, and all the levity left the room. Maya’s brain grappled to put
together the pieces: the slight tremor in her frame, the occasional rock
of her hips, and the way her fingers bounced lightly on the edge of the
sink.
“Are you drunk?” And apparently today her brain to mouth filter was completely broken. Crap.
The
woman advanced on her at an alarming pace, stiletto heels ringing out
her steps, one, two, three, until Maya was back against the door and
staring down one hundred and twenty pounds of furious Latina in a
business suit.
“Do you need help?” She tried again weakly, still
not grasping what was happening, still reeling from the name on the list
and the turbulence of this rapidly spiraling encounter.
“What I need is for you to tell me who the hell you are?”
Maya
swallowed thickly. The woman was close enough that her breath was soft
on her cheek, and she definitely didn’t smell like she just came from
the bar. Her perfume was light, pleasant, and smelled expensive.
“My name is Maya Scott. I’m a project coordinator for the Mars Fund… I—um, who are you?”
The
woman sneered, and God, anything that terrifying should not also be
that sexy. Her head still rocked every so often, her shoulders jumping
occasionally, something slightly off in the way she spoke. Her eyes
darkened as if irritated by her own movements.
“Elena Mars. I do believe I’m your boss, Miss Scott.”
Her
stomach dropped into her shoes, and Maya wondered momentarily if she
was about to pitch forward and puke all over Elena Mars’s expensive
black patent Louboutins. She could not lose this job, and things were
off to a less than wonderful start if this woman was her boss.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I just—”
“Enough,” Elena snapped, silencing her.
Maya
had never felt more underdressed, her messy blonde curls hanging over
her shoulders and her plain black shirt wilting next to Elena’s
perfectly tailored, crisp dress-and-blazer ensemble.
“I do not
care who put you up to this.” The final word was slurred slightly as
Elena’s mouth seemed to jerk sideways against her will. Even beneath her
tan complexion, her cheeks colored slightly in response, and her eyes
turned steely. “While you’re in my employ, you will respect me. Is that
clear?”
The words had something oddly toneless to them, and she
rocked on the spot as she spoke. Maya nodded frantically, desperate to
apologize, to somehow find a way to explain.
“Return to your desk and have Margaret show you the employee bathroom. This one is mine, exclusively.”
“I’m so sorry. I just—”
“Leave.”
Elena took one shaky step back, teetering on her heels so badly that
Maya almost reached out to steady her. Thinking better of it, she turned
and quickly yanked open the door. She rushed back out into the hallway
and headed for the office, her cheeks burning, dread clawing at her
throat.
She needed this job.
“So, you met the evil bitch
then?” Kevin’s eyes were back on her before she had even sat down at her
desk. “We did try to warn you, but you ran out of here so fast I
suppose you didn’t hear. Too much coffee?”
She offered him a weak
smile and then scrubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands, attempting
to shake off the mortification shrouding her. Her heartbeat was loud in
her ears, and she was busy trying to breathe, to breathe around and
through and over Robert Holt and Elena Mars and all the ways she might
have ruined this for herself before it could really even start.
“Don’t
worry about it, love. She gets her kicks making us feel like shit.
She’s probably in her office downing half a bottle of whiskey and
watching those Spanish sitcoms while we’re all out here running the gig.
Everyone knows she only has the job because Mommy owns the foundation.”
Maya
opened her mouth, trying to assimilate the information into her already
clamoring brain while formulating a way to politely ask what the hell
the nationality of the sitcom had to do with anything when Margaret
appeared.
“Kevin, that’s not true and you know it. Elena can be…difficult, but she works really hard for the foundation.”
“When
she’s wasted.” He muttered the words under his breath, causing Margaret
to tut and perch on Maya’s desk, blocking him from her view.
“Maya,
Elena has a…medical problem, cerebral palsy. That’s why she sometimes
makes strange gestures and odd movements and can’t seem to sit still.
She’s not drunk, so please don’t listen to Kevin.”
Maya’s heart plummeted into her stomach, and she felt like such a fool.
“She
is strict, and she can be difficult to work for, but I’ve worked with
her for four years and known her much longer, and some of the events
she’s pulled off and all the money she has raised, it’s amazing,”
Margaret continued. “She’s helped an awful lot of kids.”
Pieces
fell into place with a horrible click. No wonder Elena had been so
defensive and seemed embarrassed, though Maya had no way of knowing she
had a disability. She wished silently that Elena would simply have
explained it, rather than reacting like she had, though her own
ignorance and lack of thought before she spoke bothered her the most.
“I had no idea…”
Margaret patted her shoulder kindly.
“She’s
very abrupt and can come off a little stern.” A scoff from Kevin
punctuated the statement, and Margaret paused to glare over her shoulder
at him before she turned back and offered Maya a reassuring smile.
“Elena values people who work hard and add something to the foundation.
Just continue to do your best and I’m sure you’ll have nothing to worry
about.”
Even as her supervisor walked away, Maya struggled to find comfort in the words.
She
reached behind her into her jacket pocket to pull out her phone. She
hit the home button and lit up her lock screen. A little girl with long
blonde curls and emerald-green eyes like her own smiled back at her.
She could do this. She needed this job, and she was not going to let Elena Mars take it from her.
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Meet the Author
L.E. Royal is a British born fiction writer, living in Texas. She enjoys dark but redeemable characters, and twisted themes. Though she is a fan of happy endings, she would describe most of her work as fractured romance. When she is not writing, she is pursuing her dreams with her multi-champion Arabian show horses, or hanging out with her wife at their small ranch/accidental cat sanctuary.
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"What are you doing?" I asked.
