Natalie

 

Be professional. Be professional. Be professional.

That same mantra has been rolling over and over in my mind since I began my morning routine. Yet, I still find myself hesitating to walk through the door and go to work, even though, I’ve branded it into my mind that nothing Keith and I shared was special, that it was all just a game to get me into bed with him.

Angela had sat quietly beside me and let me cry, rant, and do anything else I needed to when I came up with that conclusion. I don’t know how it came to be, but the longer I was with her, the more I found I could breathe easier as I let everything just slip away. It felt great to be able to talk to someone again; to feel vulnerable when for so long I’ve been trying to stay strong.

I finally allowed myself to listen to her side of the story, seeing the truth shining bright in her eyes, as we both sat cross legged on my futon and ate an entire pint of Ben and Jerry’s. I know it’s pathetic I’m taking her at her word, and giving her a second chance when it’s my moto never to do that. But, if anyone saw her face, they would know she was being completely earnest in her explanation. That it truly was a mistake, and Jake, the dipshit, did get her drunk.

Plus, the fact of her coming out, after a lot of probing on my part, that Jake is the ex-boyfriend she was always talking about, didn’t surprise me in the least. It should have. But, I think in the back of my mind I always had that nagging feeling it was true. With the way he used to stare at her as if she were his property, and that he would never let me be alone with her. I’m just speechless it took me this long to figure it out. All with the help of Angela, of course. I didn’t know how much my hatred for the two of them clouded my judgement until now. I’m just glad her and I reconnected. I never knew just how lonely I was until I saw her on my stoop last night.

Shaking my head from side to side, I bring myself from my thoughts to one again look at the bane of my existence on this Friday morning. My door knob. Because all I have to do is turn that, and make my way to the office, pretending like nothing between Keith and I happened. It’s going to be hard, but it’s something that needs to be done. I need to purge him from my mind, and get back to what really matters. Myself. I’m tired of being classified as ‘not good enough.’ I want to mean something to someone. For the love we share to be the only reason our hearts beat inside our chests.

I want the fairy tale love all little girls fall for when they’re younger, but very rarely get when they’re older.

“Come on! Don’t be a wuss,” I whisper, trying to psych myself up.

I make an attempt for it again, and just as I’m about to reach it, my hand starts shaking so fucking bad I can’t even grip the metal knob. It’s like my hands detoxing or something. It frustrates me that my mind wants to get through with this, but my body is trying to rebel against it. Stupid bitch, she better get onboard, or I’m going to chop the motherfucker off and take the window.

“You know, it’s not going to bite you,” A voice says from behind me, causing me to freak out all over again, but for a completely different reason.

A scream works its way up my throat, and I belt it out before I can stop it. Dropping all my belongings on the floor, I do this shimmy and shake shit before tripping over my heels and face planting against the door. Whipping around, my back meets the door as my hair falls over my eyes. My heart starts beating out of my chest as I stare at Angela leaning against my Kitchen entry way, smirking. Why the hell is she still here? I could swear she left last night.

“You scared the shit out of me!” I yell, placing a hand over my heart. “What are you doing here?”

Smiling shyly, she looks down to her feet before meeting my gaze again. “I may or may not have passed out in front of the fridge when I went to get the second pint of ice cream. You kind of kept both of us up until about 2 hours ago.”

I give her a blank stare. There’s no way. “You passed out in front of the fridge? As in, passed out in the middle of my floor?”

Nodding briskly, she chokes on a laugh. “Yup, right in front of your fridge, and I woke up with my hand still on the door and my legs wrapped around one of your chair legs.”

And I’m the fucked up one? Bitch just ate linoleum for breakfast.

“The fuck? Were you drunk when you came over? Because that’s the only way you could’ve passed out.”

“Look at your bed, Missy!” she chortles, completely at ease in front of me now. “Ice cream isn’t the only thing you shoved down my throat.”

Craning my head to the side, slowly, my sides nearly spit in two as I hold in my laughter. I notice two empty vodka bottles and five empty Seagram’s. We did not get tanked last night. I would have remembered it, wouldn’t I?

“We did not do that, did we?” I ask, feeling hot all of a sudden.

“Again,” she giggles. “Yup. You drank an entire bottle of vodka and three Seagram’s.”

“How am I not dancing through the streets naked right now?” I ask no one in particular. “I should still be wasted.”

It had been forever since I allowed myself to let go and get a little wild. And last night, was apparently wild. I’m just confused I don’t remember it. The last thing I remember last night was her spouting shit about dicks going up the bum, and how I need to do that to Keith to keep him in line.

Oh shit! Yes, that’s a definite drunk conversation. Holy shit! I just got bombed and didn’t even know it.

Bringing my eyes back to Angela, mine widen in horror. “You didn’t let me use my cell phone, did you? I may be able to stand you now, but I’ll kick your ass if you did.”

Her cheeks turn a shade of red as she stares at anything but me. Grim Reaper, take me now!

“Angela!”

“What?!” she throws her arms out, like that makes it all better. Yeah, big fat chance of that! “It’s not like I can get into the damn bathroom cabinet when you’re holding it from the inside with string tied around the handles! Where you got string, I’ll never know.”

My mouth falls open in shock as my stomach rolls in waves of nausea. “Please, tell me I didn’t get that low. Please.”

Clicking her tongue against her cheek, she cringes. “Oh, it gets worse. Trust me.”

Slapping a hand over my eyes, I will the floor to swallow me alive. “What all happened?”

She’s silent for a minute, and that has me removing my hand from my eyes to stare her down. I spy her biting her lip to keep from bursting at the seams with laughter. And this ladies and gentlemen is the face of pure fucking evil!

“I can’t really explain it, because you deleted everything on your phone and told me, ‘that serves him right.’”

I am so going to hell, and I don’t even know why.

***

Poking my head through the door, I hear a shuffle inside and instantly back out of it. My nerves are all twisted in my stomach, and it feels like I’m going to vomit all over this pristine floor. I should so have called in this morning, but now, I can’t go back and do it again. I now have to face the piper, and reverse the damage I did last night while I was doing God knows what in my drunken stupor.

Biting my lip, I look down both ways of the hallway. When my eyes meet Debbie, a secretary/office fuck toy, I cringe but smile and wave slightly at her. She gives me a genuine smile, her black, luxurious bob swaying just slightly as she waves back at me as if nothing at all is about to pop off. Yes, it must be nice to be completely oblivious to the hell storm my drunken self concocted.

Tapping my foot against the floor, I try to figure out a plan. When I remember the compact case just inside my purse I nearly cry out in relief. Maybe if I poke that through the door first, I’ll be able to see if he’s inside the office. When he isn’t, I can make my way to mine and slam the door before he can confront me.

Rummaging through my behemoth of a purse, I finally come up for air with said compact in my clutches. One small victory in my corner! I smile despite the shit I’m currently facing. Hesitantly making my way toward the door, I flip it open and slowly stick it through the crack. It focuses on the wall of windows close to my office door. Slowly reangling it, I do a slow sweep of the office and come up empty. The breath I didn’t know I had been holding rushes through my lips.

Maybe I was hearing things before. Maybe he isn’t even in there.

Gathering what little courage I have left, I push the door open. As more of the room comes to my sight, the less on edge I feel. No one. Thank fuck. I’d probably die on the inside if I had to confront Keith about drunk texting him God knows what.

Shouldering my purse once again, I make a run for it. I’m skittering across the carpet, my door almost within my grasp when a voice whispers just behind me, scaring the living daylights out of me.

“Thought you would make it past me, did you ?” he asks, his voice hinting he’s loving the hell out of my pain.

My eyes open wide as I search for any and all exit routes, his voice being too much for me. 

Of course, there are none.

Turning toward him, I trying to keep my wits about myself. But it’s useless, I’m sweating as if I’ve just ran a mile on a treadmill.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I exclaim, hearing the nervousness in my voice.

Releasing a dark laugh, I meet his eyes. “Oh, I believe you do. It is the reason I hid behind the door when your compact came into view. You may want to be just a tad better at stealth if you are trying to see if I am in my office.”

I focus on something else, because let’s face it I have a date with the guillotine later to kill me from embarrassment.

“Talk right!” I fume, stomping my foot. It’s a pathetic attempt, but it’s the only thing I have left.

“I am speaking correctly, Natalie,” he chortles.

Narrowing my eyes, I pin him with a glare that can kill. “No, you’re not! Have you ever heard of contractions? It’s where you put two words together to make another one? Use it, Mr. Shaw.”

Sighing, he looks away from me, not doing well enough to hide his frustrations. “I will speak how I want to speak, and it will do you well to remember who the boss is in this particular predicament.”

I can tell that he’s still upset over last night. Hell, even I’m upset. But, that doesn’t mean anything is going to change what we are to each other. The wound? It’s still fresh, and I doubt it will be anything other than that for a long ass time. He cut me to the quick with his dismissal of my feelings. Feelings that I have been reluctant to feel ever since that fucked up mess happened with Jake. Yet, I did it so easily with Keith. I let him in, then he stomped on my heart as if it wasn’t anything at all.

“Duly noted,” I growl. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have work to do.”

We stand there in silence, both of us wanting to say more, but clearly, neither one of us going to approach the elephant in the room. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, then I’ll tell you. The fuck texts and the trip. I wish he would just get it over with now that I’ve been caught, instead of being his usually silent and brooding type.

But, the next thing he says takes me off guard. And I don’t mean—lets enjoy our dinner, oh look there’s a bunny—taking me off guard. I’m talking about cataclysmic proportions that turns you inside out and your entrails spill out all over the floor.

“You will be my date to the charity event tomorrow. Take off early to get your dress and everything you need. Oh, and do make sure you clean up nicely, if you know what I mean.” He’s tossing me that devilish smirk that makes me weak in the knees. I want to smack that right off his crap lousy face, but I’m stunned silent as he places his Black Amex card in my hands and turns away from me.

Fuck you very much, Karma! You’re a diseased, crab infested, bitch!