The next morning, I wake up in my cramped car, my neck is twisted in an awkward position against the center console. Rotating my neck and stretching the sore muscles, I rub the aching spot before sitting up to the sound of monotonous tapping on my driver’s side window. Squinting I can just make out Tom standing outside with a coffee in hand and concern etched on his face.
Jumping up quickly I grab my phone. Shit, I slept through my alarm. Tom motions his hand to the hood where he balances my coffee. “I will meet you at the ramp, kiddo.”
My head pounds, reminding me that drinking on an empty stomach was a seriously bad idea.
I nod to Tom, hiding my wince as I do. Getting up, I hobble to the trunk and rummage through, trying to find something decent to wear. I stink heavily of vodka. I just want to sleep last night off and god knows how much longer until I pass out completely.
Why did I drink so much, anyway? I know better. The memories of my mother hit me, threatening to make me fall to my knees. Instead, I shove them aside, refusing to think of the shitstorm that has become my life. Finding a passable blouse, I smooth it out the best I can and toss my blazer over the top. I rip the hairbrush through my tangled hair, relishing the pain. Anything that keeps my mind off yesterday I welcome. I stuff my foot into my still damp shoe while I hop on one foot and try to walk to the hood of my car at the same time.
I grab the coffee and try jogging down the ramp towards Tom, who’s waiting patiently for me next to the entrance doors. Unfortunately, my actions last night make jogging near impossible. I settle for a quick power walk instead. A quick glance at my phone informs me I have a scant ten minutes before my bosses will arrive.
“Rough night, darl? That's the first time I've ever seen you sleep in.” Tom's kindness and warmth threatens to break me.
“Yeah, it was pretty rough, thanks for waking me,” I mumble, sipping my coffee and avoiding those sweet eyes. Tom escorts me to the elevator before going about his own duties. Once the doors ping open, I power hobble to the bathroom and do a quick rush job of my make up. My face is puffy, and I look like shit. No, I look hungover with my bloodshot eyes and pale complexion. A slow ache makes its way up to my eyes, sitting directly at my temple. I knew the aftermath of drinking that much would have consequences, but I was prepared.
Once finished, I quickly go to my bag and retrieve 3 ibuprofen and three Advil. I down them with a glass of water. Mom’s secret remedy for hangovers besides greasy food. I smile at the memory before my smile crumples to a frown. I’ll never see her smile again, let alone hear her endless advice, even silly advice like how to avoid a morning hangover. I’m shoved out of my sadness by the ping of the elevator doors.
Tobias and Theo step out. Their normal business persona shatters as their eyes widen upon seeing me. I still haven’t made the morning coffee. I apologize realizing my mistake before racing to the kitchenette and making it. Theo pops his head into the small kitchen door, studying me as if I’m a wounded animal.
“Sorry I was a bit rushed for time this morning. I’m making them now,” I sputter, concentrating on the task at hand. When I don’t hear a response, I turn to see if he’s still there.
He is, but now shadowed by Tobias. I gulp, my mouth suddenly feels like a desert. Tobias's concerned eyes spark a memory. He'd been at the hospital, he'd tried to reach for me. I was rude and ignored him.
Can't I catch a break? Seriously, I don't feel like being scolded. Ignoring them, I finish making the coffees before spinning around and handing mugs to each. I’m late but not so much that our entire day has to be ruined. Theo stares at the offered cup before taking it while Tobias’ face is unreadable. Pity maybe? I’m sure.
“You don’t have to be here. You can go home if you like.” Tobias' voice is unusually gentle. I sigh, relieved I don’t have to come up with some excuse as to why I ignored him and ran from him last night. I wonder why he was at the hospital anyway.
“Why would I do that?” I question. Don’t they want me here? Have I ruined their schedule after all with my lateness?
“We don’t expect you to work the day after your mother passes. If you need time off, we understand. We can manage on our own, Imogen.” Tobias continues with his soft manner. If I didn't know any better, I'd think he wants to hug me the way he keeps staring.
Why is he of all people interfering in my life? It’s not like we are friends and catch up for drinks after work. I barely know them. I never chat or talk to them outside business hours, I never pry into their lives, and they don’t ask about mine. All of sudden they think they can have some input? I don’t need their pity. I just need to be left alone.
Theo sniffs the air before cocking his head to the side, studying me from head to toe. I’m well aware I smell like I’ve been dipped in vodka. Walking past them, I grab my perfume from my handbag and spray myself, completely ignoring them. Like seriously where will I go? Hang out in the garage all day? To the park again? Maybe the storage shed? Yeah, having time off is the last thing I need.
Theo places a cup on the edge of my desk, it’s his coffee. “Drink this, I will make another.”
I try to get up and stop him, seeing as it technically is my job to be the coffee bitch, but one look from Tobias makes me shrink back down in my seat. Tobias sits on the edge of my desk. He reaches to grab my hand, but I pull away. Hurt shines in his eyes but he quickly masks it. Why would he feel hurt? His reaction seems a little out of place, considering I’m his secretary, not his friend. I must have imagined it.
“Are you okay?” He questions me, that warmth still in tone. It’s so uncharacteristic of him. I expect that from Theo, not Tobias.
I would be if people stopped trying to touch me. Knowing I can’t say that, I simply nod while turning the phones over to take them off voicemail. We sit in silence with me pointedly ignoring him. I refuse to engage in any sort of discussion with him. He can't just treat me differently because I lost my mother. After a time Tobias gets up and walks to his own office. I breathe a sigh of relief and throw myself into my work.
The day flies by and neither one of them asks me to do anything all day. I remain at my desk, answering calls. I want the distraction, a task, anything instead of being left to my own thoughts. I wish the work day will never end.
Theo pokes his head in the door, his arms filled with files and I grin at the pile, eager for it. He looks relieved at my smile and plops them on the side beside me. I thank him, then get to work.
By the time I have all the paperwork sorted into their allocated files, it’s already late again. My time to be distracted with work is drawing to a close. Theo and Tobias have left without preamble, a fact I’m grateful for. I don't need them hovering over me afraid I'd crack. I need more clothes, it’s time to take the walk to my storage shed. I don't want to drive, not while in this state.
I need to be back by 9:00PM or I'll be locked out. It’s 7:30 now, so I still have an hour and a half, plenty of time to get there and back. Ducking out to my car, I snatch the storage locker key from the glove compartment, along with the empty vodka and tequila bottles. I plan to discard them on the way. I won't be able to keep hiding the bottles from Tom if they keep building up.
Making my way down to the bottom floor, I pause. The hairs on the back of my neck rise in warning and I can't shake the sensation of a pair of eyes on me. I glance around but I can't see anyone else. The garage is just as deserted as always. I shiver, trying to push away the feeling and walk faster. I make my way outside walking up the “in” ramp. As soon as I’m outside, I toss the bag of empty bottles into the trash for the garbage man to collect tomorrow.
The skyrise I work at is on the outskirts of the city, which is convenient for me. Everything is at my fingertips so to speak. My storage locker is two blocks from where I am now. Next to the skyrise is a park that leads into a small wooded area. I like to walk through it. The park is a shortcut to my storage locker. It’s also where a lot of people have picnics and hang around.
Cutting through the trees, I can't shake the feeling I’m being watched. It’s dark out already. I usually don't come through here at night, but I don't have time to walk the long way. Not if I don't want to be locked out. Shaking off the feeling yet again, I continue walking, faster this time. The moon is my only light, the shadows in the trees stretch over the pathway. Is there someone behind me? I whirl to check but there’s nothing there. Just the shadows playing tricks on my eyes. Something dashes through the trees, and it has to be big for me to hear the rustle and breaking of twigs. Swallowing, I pick up my pace. I follow the path that leads towards the industrial area. After about five minutes, I’m deep amongst the trees when I hear a deep growl coming from behind me.