And another email this morning. What the hell?
___________________________________
From: Z. Zinfandel
Subject: Laughter and Breathing
Wednesday, May 25th
8:02am
Dear Ms. Honey,
I do hope you put my mind at ease and respond to me this morning.
I found myself thinking of you frequently last night.
Are you okay?
Z
___________________________________
Oh my god... Its 9:15 and already there’s another email.
___________________________________
From: Z. Zinfandel
Subject: Still waiting…
Wednesday, May 25
9:01am
Dear Ms. Sweetie,
If you do not reply in the next 15 minutes, I will be forced to call you.
Please reply to me.
Z
___________________________________
Jeez... What the hell is his problem? All I did was laugh. Is he going to call Mr. Shields and report me for laughing yesterday?
When the phone suddenly rings, I jump in my chair. Oh, no. Is it him? Shit. Do I answer? What the hell do I do? Grabbing for the phone, I inhale deeply and say...
"Good morn..." but I'm cut off.
"Well... if it isn't Ms. Sugar, Honey, Sweetie, Babe. How are you this morning?" God, his voice is lovely. I just pause for a moment to absorb his voice into my body.
"Good morning, Mr. Zinfandel. I'm fine thank you. I was going to reply to your emails in just a minute or two." I try to sound casual but his voice is so distracting.
"Were you? Well, that's good to hear. I don't like to be left waiting... Ms? Never mind. I'll just add to the list, shall I? How about Sweetheart? Yes. I like the sound of that. You seem like you would be a genuine sweetheart to me.”
My head is spinning. What the hell is he talking about? How would he know if I'm a 'sweetheart'?
"Um… that would be MRS. Sweetheart then."
"Happily?"
"That’s none of your business MR. Zinfandel," I respond, clearly offended by his bold question.
"NOT happily, I take it. You see, if you were happy you would have automatically replied, 'Yes. Very happily', like most everyone does when they describe a good relationship. You, however, told me off. This means, of course, that you don’t want to talk about your unhappy marriage." Argh…
Slam. I hang up the phone. I hung up the phone?! WHAT DID I JUST DO?? I just slammed the phone down on the New York Accounts Manager; the man who could have me fired with one phone call to Mr. Shields.
I think I'm going to throw up and it's only 9:21 in the morning. Trying to breathe through the nausea, I hear his voice...
"Breathe with me... Come on... Breathe…" and suddenly the weight lifts off my chest.
Glancing at my computer, I have 2 new emails. I hope they’re not from him. Yes! One is Mr. Heinrick’s expense report... And one is from Mr. Zinfandel of the New York office, timed one minute ago. Shit.
___________________________________
From: Z. Zinfandel
Subject: Phone slamming
Wednesday, May 25
9:25am
Dear MRS. Sweetheart,
That was very rude. But I will forgive you this time because you were not, in fact, told that I find the slamming of a phone in one’s ear, to be quite rude. Please keep it in mind in the future, however.
I will call you again later to discuss the expenses Mr. Craig accumulated, and where exactly we should proceed from here.
Yours,
Z
___________________________________
"Yours, Z"?? WHAT THE HELL? He gave me a 'rudeness' warning? He wants me to remember the warning in the future? This is too messed up.
Maybe I'll show Kayla, and ask her what I should do. What would she do? Oh, Kayla would probably have him apologizing to her for NOT liking her rudeness. Kayla can turn any man any way she wants. I've seen her. She would probably love this, this... what? Maybe I'll tell her later? Maybe, I shouldn't? Maybe...? No. Nothing. I'll just ignore it, and hope I don't act rude again to Mr. Zinfandel so he won't tell Mr. Shields about my poor behavior.
==========
By 12:15, I'm starving. Checking my emails before heading for lunch, I see a new one from Mr. Zinfandel.
___________________________________
From: Z. Zinfandel
Subject: Checking up on you…
Wednesday, May 25
12:02pm
Dear Sweetheart,
I trust your day is better now than it was at 9:15 this morning?
I looked up your photo in the company directory, and I must say I am quite pleased. You are very attractive.
Your lips are gorgeous- they look like they were made for kissing.
But your eyes are simply alluring. I find myself looking at your eyes often. Do you know what your eyes could do to a man?
Z
___________________________________
Wow! How inappropriate of him. My eyes? Yes, I know they’re very pretty, but no one else really does. No one else sees me as alluring. No one really sees me, at all.
After deleting the message, I grab my purse and run out the door. Once in my car, I have to think of an errand. I don't want to lie to Kayla, so if I actually do something, then I never actually lied to her. I'll go to the mall nearby. And buy... what? More black suits? More black skirts? More black heels? What do I need to buy?
Once in the mall, I am surrounded by teenagers. I guess it's lunchtime at the high school around the corner. God, they’re so loud. Was I ever loud? No. I've never been loud, screamed, laughed, or been silly in my life. Jeez, I sound so boring, even to myself.
Entering a very posh shoe store, I'm instantly attracted to a pair of killer cut-out 4 1/2 inch stilettos. Not entirely appropriate for work, but if I pair them down with black slacks; they might not look too slutty.
However, if I paired them with a skirt, I would look like I was walking the streets. Yeah, but how much could I really earn as a prostitute? My husband takes only five minutes to finish. Maybe a 'John' would take 15 minutes before he got off... What is the going rate per minute for putting out? I guess it depends on what I would have to do... Ew. Gross.
Totally unaware of my purchase, I'm suddenly standing at the store exit with my new shoes and the receipt in my hand. Well, I guess $125.00 isn't too much to pay for slutty stilettos I'll probably never wear.... Unless, of course, I do take up street-walking as a second income to pay for said slutty stilettos. Giggle. Ooops. What am I doing here?
Walking back to my car, I toss my new shoes in the backseat and pause. What do I do now? I still have 25 minutes to kill. So turning on my car, I fill it with a nice stream of cool air conditioning while I kill time. Leaning my head back, I close my eyes and relax.
Kayla will never know I'm stalling. I'll show her my shoes and pretend I had to look for a gift for my mother’s birthday, which is actually in three and a half weeks... so not really a lie.
Wow. I better actually start looking for the perfect gift. God knows, I wouldn't dare to disappoint my mother... Marcus would be horrified.
==========
Waking with a jolt, I look at the clock and its 4:25. OH, MY GOD! I've been gone for 4 hours and asleep for over 3 hours in my car! Why?! What the hell is wrong with me?!
Snapping off the air, I try to recover from my drowsiness. What the hell do I say at work? Where the hell is my cell phone? Christ, did anybody call me from work? Upending my purse on the passenger seat, I have 2 missed calls and 2 text messages. Shit.
First message:
"Hi, Sweetie. Where are you? Its 2:00 and you've been gone for over an hour and a half. Is everything okay?"
What do I say to Kayla?
Second message:
"Hi. Me, again. Its 3:30. I'm not sure where you are, but I checked the company appointments schedule, plus your
personal schedule on your computer and you have no appointments this afternoon... Are you alright?!"
Kayla sounds a bit pissed.
First text: 2:43
"call me. shields lookn for u. told him ur at a meetn. K."
Second text: 4:12
“where r u? Call me ASAP. I stalled shields. U O me. It's 4:13. WTF?"
Shit! Kayla sounds really pissed now.
Dialing Kayla's number as I speed out of the parking lot, I don't know what to say. One lie a day is too much for me. I hate lying. And I really hate lying to Kayla. Plus, I think she knows when I'm lying anyway. It's not like I have a poker-face or anything.
When she answers I just start spilling. "Hi Kayla. Sorry. I'm fine. Would you believe me if I said I fell asleep in the car? Honestly. I was sound asleep... "
"Is everything okay?" She laughs.
"Yeah... No. I mean, yes. I didn't even know I was tired. Thanks for covering for me."
"Ah, are you coming back to work?" She sounds totally confused.
“Yes. I'll be back in 5 minutes. Do you have any ideas what I can say to Mr. Shields? I'm totally desperate for a cover story.”
"Um... What about the Marriot?"
"Oh, that's a good one! I'll say I was at the Marriott scheduling the Buyers luncheon. Thanks so much Kayla."
"No problem, Sweetie."
"Really, thank you for covering for me. See you in a few minutes."
==========
Running into the building, I pass Kayla's office, poke my head in the door, smile and mouth "thanks" and head for my office. Passing the Receptionist Claire, I smile but she looks at me kind of shocked or something. What? Why is she looking at me like that? Shit! Am I in trouble with Shields?
Stopping, I smile at Claire again and tell her, "I didn't realize my cell was off. I was at the Marriott all afternoon preparing the Buyers luncheon. Did I miss anything important this afternoon?"
Still just staring at me, I wait. When Claire opens her mouth to speak, Kayla suddenly grabs me by the arm instead and starts pulling me toward my office. What the hell?
Once we’re in my closed office, I pull my arm away. "What?! Why are you pushing me like that? I said I was sorry on the phone. I thought we were fine. You laughed at me when I said I fell asleep." Feeling so insecure suddenly, I whisper, "Are you mad at me Kayla?" But she just stares at me, looking kind of stunned herself.
"What is it?!" I yell at her.
Taking my hand again, Kayla murmurs, "keep your head down", as she leads me out of my office.
In the bathroom, I again pull away from her. "What? What's the matter? Are you mad at me?"
God, I hate being touched. I hate someone gripping my arms. I hate... touch.
Turning me toward the mirror, I gasp. What the hell happened to me? Stunned myself, I whisper, "Wow. I didn't realize..."
I am absolutely hideous. My mascara lies in streaks down my entire face. My nose is beet-red. My eyes are so swollen, they look half closed. My lips are fat and cracked, with one spot actually bleeding. I look like an assault victim. I have no color in my face at all. I look so pale, I'm actually almost bluish-grey. I’m so gross, that it’s kind of funny actually. Ooops, I feel a giggle bubble up again. Huh. Maybe it's the same giggle I suppressed this morning.
"Wow," I breathe, and start laughing.
Kayla looks at me so sadly, that I'm instantly defensive. But before I can speak, she asks, "What happened, Sweetie? Should we go to the police first, or to the hospital? I'll take you, and no one will know, I promise..." The hospital? Why would we go to the Police? What is she saying? "…Sweetie, were you raped? Or...or just assaulted?" She begs. Raped? God, I hate that word!
Shaking suddenly, I can’t breathe. Gasping for breath, I lean over the sink and try hard to breathe. Gagging, my stomach coils itself into a solid knot, but I've eaten nothing today to throw up. My legs start to buckle, so I gracefully drop to my knees, cover my face, shake violently, and try desperately to breathe.
"Breathe. I can hear you panicking. Breathe slowly. Come on, just breathe slowly for me..."
Eventually, my breathing slows and my chest starts loosening. My hands are totally numb, but no longer shaking. Looking up, I see tears in Kayla's eyes. OH! Please don't cry. Please, Kayla. If you cry, I know I'm done. Please...
Trying to stand, Kayla gently takes my hands and helps. Suddenly, I want my shoes off. Bending again, I slip off my heels and just kind of melt into the cool tiles of the bathroom floor.
I love this feeling. I love being in sexy heels all day with aching feet, then finally dropping my heels at my front door, to bathe my aching feet into the cool marble tiles of my home.
Looking back up, I'm almost shocked at how tall Kayla is suddenly. Stepping back a foot, I breathe, "I'm okay, but I need to go home. Honestly, nothing happened, Kayla. I really was just asleep in my car. I don't know why I look like this, but I swear I was asleep in my car. That’s all. Honestly."
I can tell she doesn't believe me at all. She thinks I'm a liar, and today I actually am a liar. I've lied twice in one day. Wouldn't my family be so proud?
Turning away from her face of pity, or maybe even shock, I don’t really know which, I open the washroom door and walk smack into Mr. Shields. When he grabs my arms to steady me, I just can't stand it suddenly!
Jerking out of his grip, I scream, "Let me go!"
Mr. Shields is shocked into silence.
Looking at me, he stammers, "I, I wasn't going to hurt you, Sugar. I was just trying to help." I think I’m going to die of embarrassment, any second now.
"Sorry, Sir. I'm just not feeling well. I'm leaving now, but I'll see you tomorrow. Thank you. Sorry..." and racing to my office, I snatch my purse and run for the exit with my heels still in my shaking hands.
In my car again, my whole body begins shaking once more. Starting the car, I close my eyes and count to ten. Turning to pull on my seatbelt, I see Kayla standing beside my car window as I jump with a little scream.
Lowering the window a little, "Kayla. I'm fine. I'm going straight home. It's been a weird week, that's all... Okay?"
"Can I drive you home? I'd like to. You aren't fine, and if something happens to you, I'll feel really guilty for letting you drive. Okay, Sweetie?"
As Kayla tries to open my door, I suddenly yell at her. "No. It’s not okay. I'm fine. Fuck! I'm fine! Just leave me alone!" And wrenching the gear shift, I start to drive off with her frightened, totally horror-struck face burned into my memory.
Driving a little erratically, I wonder what I just did. Kayla will hate me now. She'll be so mad at me. She'll ignore me every day at work. She'll talk about me behind my back. She'll tell everyone what a bitch I am. She'll hate me.
When I finally return home, I grab my purse and head up the few stairs to the foyer. I can't even remember driving home. I did drive, I’m pretty sure, but I just can't remember the drive at all. That's bad, I think.
Once inside, my feet are greeted by the cold marble tile. I love this. I look forward to these tiles. If I could lie down on them, I would. Huh. Why can’t I? It's my house. So dropping my heels, purse and keys, I slink down to the cold marble and finally exhale.
==========
Marcus wakes me when he enters. The house is all dark because I didn't remember to put any lights on, so he narrowly avoids stepping on me.
"What the hell? Did you fall, or something?" He looks confused.
"Um, no. The floor just felt nice and cold, that's all." Ooops, I sound kind of deranged. And suddenly, I’m engulfed in light while my eyes burn and I turn my face into the tile.
"What the hell happened to you? You look awful." Marcus demands.
"Nothing. Stressful day. I'm just going to go to bed."
And lifting myself from the floor, I notice Marcus doesn't help me. Of course not, he's still mad at me. He's still going to ignore me for a while, I have to remember that.
Upstairs, I change into my pajamas and head for the bathroom. Gro
ss. I have to once again scrub off my nasty make-up before I go to bed, which kills my eyes, cheeks and lips, but what can I do? Dirty a pillow case? Heaven forbid.
Entering my bedroom, I wish I had my purse and cell phone with me in case Kayla calls. God, I don't want her telling Marcus I flipped out again today. He would be so ashamed of my behavior.
Curling into bed, I see the time is 8:02pm Wow. I guess I lied on the marble floor for a few hours. Strange, it didn't feel that long.
On my side, I can't help but think of today. What was that? If I wasn't me, I would think I was some girl craving attention; A drama-queen, a loser. Maybe like someone who needs to act out in order to get attention. Why did I act like that today? My lies were disgusting. My behavior was disgusting. My freak-out was disgusting. I'm disgusting.
==========
Waking to Marcus lurching over me, I look at the clock and see its 9:49. That's it? It feels much later.
"Were you raped today?" He asks me point-blank. Flinch.
"No." God, I HATE that word.
"I didn't think so. I told Kayla she was wrong, but she was so adamant about you getting to the hospital. As if..." and as Marcus shakes his head, he leaves my bedroom without a backwards glance, again.
As if? What the hell does that mean? As if someone would rape me? As if I'm un-rapeable?
I'm not ugly. I'm not fat. I have gorgeous lips and alluring eyes... As if.
God, I am so tired.
Thursday, May, 26th
CHAPTER 4
In the morning, Marcus enters my bedroom to get dressed. He’s just glaring at me for a minute before entering his closet.