9 - Emma
“So get this, right. I make him a coffee, trying to be nice. I’m making an effort, clearly. And then, I try to make sure he’s ok right after he finds out he needs to be a key speaker at the biggest conference in the country and he basically bites my head off. And THEN, he fucking HANGS UP ON ME when I’m checking if an uninvited, unscheduled patient or visitor or whatever she was should go bother him!!”
“Oh, Emma,” Val’s voice comes through my cell phone. “It sounds like he’s just a dickhead. Every office has one.”
“I know, but, I mean…” I trail off. Why is this bothering me so much? She’s right, every office has one, and I should just let it go. Everyone else is nice, and I’ve even been invited to Friday drinks this week. “You’re right. He’s just so blatantly rude, like he doesn’t care at all. It’s gotten under my skin.”
I’m barreling down the street, walking towards my apartment. It’s getting dark out and I can’t wait to get home and get some dinner. This job may be a godsend but it doesn’t mean it’s all rainbows and butterflies.
“I should go, Val, thanks for the pep talk.”
“Anytime. Let’s meet up for brunch at the usual spot this weekend, you can tell me all about the other assholey things I’m sure he’ll be doing all week.”
I laugh dryly. “I’m sure I’ll have lots of material.”
We hang up the phone and I slip it into my purse. I’m rounding the corner to my apartment and feel in my purse for my keys. They aren’t in the usual small pocket so I pause, looking through the bag. No no no, please let me not have lost them. That familiar feeling of dread when I can’t immediately find my keys or phone or wallet is already welling up inside me when I feel the end of my keychain. Phew. I smile, and take another step towards my building.
Out of nowhere, a dark figure steps out of the alley. He’s big and imposing, and my heart drops to my stomach. I stop in my tracks.
“Emma Thompson,” he growls. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“I live here, Victor.”
He laughs that croaking, coughing laugh that makes my skin crawl.
“So you do. And you must know why I’m here.”
“I don’t have your money. Not yet, but I will. You told me you’d give me three months, it’s only been two.” I put my head down and try to walk around him. He side steps so that he’s in my way. I take a step back, finally looking up at his face. That white, jagged scar still cuts across his face from his forehead across to his left cheek. His eyes sling fire at me.
“Oh, I’m just reminding you what’s at stake here. You’d better get it to me, girl, or else you know what will happen.”
He takes a step towards me and instinctively I back up. I see his hand coming up towards my and my heart starts beating a million miles an hour. My blood runs cold with fear.
Time stands still and I feel weak and small. I’m powerless. I clutch my purse against me, wishing I had a knife, or some pepper spray, or something.
Then, as if he changed his mind, Victor drops his hand and turns towards a waiting car. The door of the black SUV opens and he jumps in and speeds away. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, and run to my apartment.
My hands are shaking when I pull out my keys and it takes me more than a couple seconds to get the key in the lock.
“Fucking fuck, fuck, come ON!” I whisper-yell to my door, as if it’s deciding to be difficult on purpose.
Finally the key goes in and I turn in. I’m inside. I lock the door, turn and run up the stairs to my unit. More keys, more locks, until I’m safe inside my own apartment. I slam every lock I can and lean against the closed door. My heart is hammering, I have tears in my eyes. I feel the cold shiver of fear and a feverish heat all at once. I rush to my kitchen and gulp down a tall glass of water.
Not now, not yet. It’s too soon for him to be paying me a visit.