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𝘙𝘏𝘠𝘚 𝘔𝘖𝘖𝘙𝘌
COFFEE. THAT’S WHAT I NEED. That’s what I need to get the dream I had last night out of my system. It needs to leave my mind.
It’s still dark outside as I shuffle to my kitchen. The glass windows I have in my living room are pitch black. So dark that I can’t even see my patio.
I squint my eyes at the harsh light of my refrigerator. I scan the shelves for the cold brew I made the other day. I see some lonely eggs hanging out on my top shelf. I guess it’s a breakfast morning.
As I prepare my breakfast, my mind isn’t focused on frying the bacon. It’s focused on last night. Because whenever I look down, my eyes automatically go to my raw knuckles. All cut and bloody.
It was a weird night.
Never in my life would I have expected to find Wren James, the prude from work, at Breakers. Breakers. The place where if you talk to the right people, you could get a handjob in the back room. The place where interesting people go. Not serious, boring business women.
But there she was. Last night. In the crowd of people, dancing without a care in the world. Her head thrown back, eyes closed and face blank; soaking up the music. Her drink half full, her free hand in her hair; unaware of the hundreds of eyes trained on her.
I could barely keep my eyes off her the whole night.
And then outside the bar. The emotionless, strictly business woman, digging around for a cigarette, for release. From what? I have no clue. No clue.
The smell of burnt oil registers a half a second too late and I look down at my pan of burnt eggs and bacon. Great.
__________
Sipping my fifth cup of coffee that morning, I finally made it to work. After burning my breakfast, everything else had gone wrong. I was out of hair product, so I had to wear it messy, like I used to wear it in high school. I had forgotten to press my shirt the night before, so I was rocking a semi wrinkled button-down. And while I was getting in my car, a few stray cats jumped up on the hood of my car. I hate cats.
Opening the door to the office, I nod at the people sitting in the waiting area. Then I make my way toward Gloria.
“Good Morning Mr. Moore. It’s a nice day outside, isn’t it?” She happily excepted my card and punched me in.
“It’s raining.” I say as Gloria handed me my card back.
“I like to think of it as mother nature’s happy tears. Just gorgeous.” She smiles at me before typing something on her computer. I turn away from her.
“Oh! Mr. Moore!” She calls out to me as I make my way to the elevators.
I pause my steps and turn on my heels to see Gloria hobbling over to me. Her short, curly auburn hair bouncing. She reminds me of those old woman from the 1950’s.
“Mr. Martin wants to see you in his office. Says it’s very important.” She pushes her red cat-eye glasses up her nose.
“Okay.” I turn around and resume my walk.
“Have a good day honey.” Gloria chirps up. I mumble a ‘you too’ and wait for the elevator.
Why would Fernando Martin want to see me in his office? Sure he might have thought we were friends, but in reality I only speak to him because he’s the one that writes my checks.
As each floor goes by, I tap my thigh. Still thinking of all the possible reasons he wants to speak to me so urgently.
The elevator stops and the doors open, showcasing the large, modern office that belongs to Fernando. His office takes up the whole floor. File cabinets and unnecessary tables litter the room. Vases and pots on every surface, making my office seem like a joke in comparison.
As I make my way further into the room, the faint sound of talking travels through the air. I turn the corner to see Fernando sitting on the edge of his desk, a woman sitting in one of the two chairs in front of it.
When I get closer, the woman in the chair becomes more clear. Wren. She’s dressed properly. Neatly. Boringly. A black pencil skirt with a black blouse and red heels. Her hair is up, unlike the day before when it had been free and full of youth. And her face is tut with emotionless features.
Fernando has a drink in his hand and is motioning all around him as he tells a dramatic story to Wren. I lean against a bookshelf and watch his performance. It’s the same-but different-story about him fighting an animal in the mountains of Albania.
“…and so I grabbed that Viper right by its throat,” He grasps the air right in front of Wren’s face and twists his fist. “and squeezed the devil right out of the squirming monster.” He nods and sips his drink.
“Wasn’t it a lynx?” I ask, making my presence known.
Fernando’s head snaps to me and Wren slowly turns to look at me.
“Oh. Rhys, you made it.” He places his drink down, a faint scowl on his face. “And no. It was a Viper. Always been a Viper.” He laughs bitterly. “Please. Take a seat. I have something very important to discuss with the both of you.”
I do as he says and take my spot in the chair beside Wren. Her attention is focused on Fernando. So I turn my gaze to him as well.
He claps his hands together. “So. As you know by now i’m not one to beat around the bush,” A harsh laugh erupts from his chest, then it fades out when he notices he’s the only one laughing. “Anyways. The point of you two being here right now is that i’ve assigned you a project. A task if you will.” He grins. “As you know of, my company is doing all too well, all too smoothly. And to insure it stays that way,” He points a chubby finger at me then Wren. “you will be establishing contract deals with all of the businesses involved in my success.”
Wren runs a palm down her thigh.
“To explain further, what I mean is you’d simply write out a contract, run it by me and the lawyers-y’know how it goes-and go out and deliver those contracts. Easy peasy.” He picks up his glass and takes a long swig before swallowing with an exaggerated ‘ahh’ sound.
“With all do respect Sir, what reason was it that you chose us both to execute this plan. Why can’t you do it? Wouldn’t our partners feel safer if you were the one to introduce the contract?” I run a finger across my jaw, releasing the tension there.
“Well.” He brushed a hand over his beard. “I figured since you both deal with paperwork and issuing statements to businesses-“
“As does everyone in this building.” Wren’s voice is sharp and assertive, before she adds, “Sir.”
Fernando’s eyes roam Wren with no shame. Then he laughs dryly. “Don’t tell anyone I said this but, you are my favorites.” He looks toward me for a second before his eyes are back on Wren. “I believe wholeheartedly that you’ll be able to do this for me in the upcoming months.”
Seemingly done with us, he waves his hands.
“Alright. Thank you for being here, i’ll have Maxine pass on more information about this. Enjoy your day.” He then ignores us as he sits in his lounge chair and begins to mark papers.
I rise from my chair and follow Wren into the elevator. I stand at one side of the elevator and she stands at the other. It’s quiet until I speak up.
“You do realize we’ll have to work on this? Together.” My voice comes out harsher then intended.
Wrens face still shows no signs of human life. But her eyes flick to mine. “We’ll split the work. Whatever you have to do, do it. I’ll hold up my end and we won’t need to speak to one another. Problem solved.” Her tone matches mine.
“I’m not sure what you are intending by ‘do it’ but i’ll try not to read too much into it. I always complete the projects I am assigned. Whether I am working by myself or with a colleague, they are done on time.” I lower my head to look at her.
Her face suddenly turns deadly and I watch as she runs her tongue across the top row of her teeth.
“Doesn’t it bother you that you have to work on something with the person you hate?” She tilts her head, her ponytail tauntingly swaying.
“I don’t hate anyone.” I laugh silently in my head.
“We’ll see about that.” And before I can argue, the elevator stops and Wren strides out and makes her way into her office.
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