Chapter 19 Chapter 18:
Clara:
I drum my hands in anticipation, staring through my glass walls. Countless of my employees pass by, but none is Axel. My heart is thrumming as I try to find a way to talk to him.
He wouldn’t even spare you a glance, a voice says at the back of my head making sadness course through every part of my body, is this weird? Am I weird?
The screen of my phone lights up with a text- my wallpaper is of Axel smiling brightly into the camera, holding his cat. I saw the photo on social media and stole the photo, of course, without anyone knowing.
Seeing a text from Anna manages to make my mood brighten.
Anna: I am coming over pretty soon!
And then I feel the guilt swimming in my stomach again. Once upon a time, we were in high school, and Anna was that confident, sassy person. She just seemed cool then and I followed behind her, learning quietly. I did everything she asked because well, it just felt like I needed to.
Axel was one of her victims, the guy that Anna teased every time; even then I had a crush on him but it felt wrong to approach him because I was constantly with Anna, and she doesn’t want me going after him.
I shake my head, trying to ward off the memories as I see a tall frame pass by my glass walls. Axel. My heart leaps as beat as I hurriedly stand up from my chair, joining him in the snack room.
It’s only the two of us here. He moves through the cabinet, grabbing a mug and pouring himself a mug of coffee. He's broad shouldered, his button down shirt expands around his shoulders, giving his muscles a splendid look. Even at the sight of him, I feel helpless.
He turns, finds me staring and raises a brow.
This is my chance.
“I made some strawberry muffins.” I point at the box filled with muffins, “I made extras at home so I decided to bring them into the office.” I have immense hope for him to at least taste what I made.
He stares at the box for a while, the brown strands frames across his face and I badly want to tuck them away to reveal his molten brown eyes.
“I am allergic to strawberries,” he says coolly, not breaking eye contact. His eyes stay coldly on mine and I feel uncomfortable.
Why is he giving me such a cold treatment? His phone on the counter pings, brightening up to show a text from Wanda, he reaches for his phone, his face expanding into a smile. The cold look he gave me is gone as he types earnestly on his phone, one hand holding his mug of coffee.
He brushes past me smoothly, as he leaves the snack room, leaving me feeling empty. Does he somehow like her? I see the way he looks at her anytime we are in the meeting room; my stomach churns at the possibility of them getting together.
He will never like you, another voice whispers and my anxiety spikes high, after all, he’s not the same guy in high school who endured Anna’s bullshit.
I remember the day as if it was yesterday, the day he approached me to ask me out to the prom, I should have seen it coming, the glances he would give me across the classrooms, the way he’d smile at me during recess.
Then finally, he had approached me, standing in front of my locker, clutching a bouquet of daisies- I don’t know how he knew, but they were my favorite flowers and a tiny box of chocolate.
His brown eyes, under those glasses- hopeful and so innocent stared at me and asked. “I really like you, Clara; do you want to go to the prom with me?” He seemed vulnerable then and I looked at him and saw the boy I secretly liked, the one I would glance at when Anna wasn’t looking, the boy I would return his smile at recess.
Anna had burst into the halls, and stood in front of me, she threw his box to the floor and said coldly. “Are you insane, four-eyes? Why in the hell would Clara want to go to the prom with a fucking loser like you?”
My body had trembled as Anna pressed a hand to my shoulder. “Go on, babe. Tell me to scram off.”
I shut my eyes, I didn’t want to disappoint Anna, she was always there for me, “I can’t go to the prom with a loser like you.”
The hurt that glimmered in his eyes haunts me to this present day. Even with the way he treats me now, cold and distant, I can still see the hurt in his eyes, the once seventeen year old boy that I had hurt.
The door bursts open snapping me out of memory lane, and Anna walks in, in a classy pink dress, she doesn’t bother with introductions and just hugs me, her perfume wafting into my nostrils.
“Hey, I have missed you so much.” She mutters and I inhale her in.
“Hey.” I force a smile.
“Did you see that dummy Axel just walk by? With that cheeky grin of his, he’s still as daft as he was in high school, except he managed to get hotter.” Anna shuts her eyes.
My stomach clenches as I say, “Yeah, I agree with you.” Why can’t I just bring myself to talk good about Axel in front of Clara?
She leans against the counter, grabbing a muffin from the box. “Honestly, I don’t know why you can’t just fire him.” She pops it in her mouth and grimaces. “This tastes like sandpaper, did you make this?”
My stomach churns again and I can feel the bile rising up to my throat. “No, of course not, some shabby employee made it.”
She nods her head, “It’s been so hard for me these days, Clara.”
Concern floods through me as I step forward. “What’s going on?”
She places her hand on her flat stomach and shakes her head, tears pricking at the side of her eyes. “It has just been so hard with the pregnancy; I have been having these mood swings and cravings, sometimes. I wake up in the night and start crying, it’s just so overwhelming for me like this.”
I furrow my brows, grabbing her hands, “Are you sure? Mood swings and cravings normally start in the sixth week of pregnancy.” I can’t forget the night Anna called me and told me she was pregnant, she was crying and laughing on the phone, and I had felt this joy that made me buy every single book on caring for a pregnant woman.
“Yes, I am sure. What are you trying to say?” Anna snaps, her cold eyes fixed on me. “You trust me, don’t you?”
“I really do.” I say, “And I don’t mean anything, I am very happy for you, you are going to have a baby soon and I have been with you since we were little kids.”
“Good.” She seems pleased with the answer, “You will do anything for me, right?”
“Anything.” I smile at her.
“Fire Arya.” She blurts out.
“What?” My face pales, as I digest it. “I can’t fire Arya, it needs the whole approval of the board and besides, she’s a competent worker, if I fire her, it will draw the attention of the people.”
“You said you would do anything for me.” She says dryly and I suck in a breath. “You know what? Forget about it, we have lunch tomorrow at Imperial Restaurant, don’t tell me you are bailing on that?”
“No, I will be there.” Despite the sickening feeling in my stomach, I manage a half-smile.
“Great, see you there.” She says, her voice sharp before walking out of the room. I go back to my office and slump on the chair, my phone pings with a text from the group chat.
I am a triplet and my sisters, Charlotte and Chloe are the only ones in the group chat. My sisters are the only thing that gives me joy. We have different dreams and we didn’t attend the same school. It’s a text from Charlotte.
Charlotte: Hey, ladies. Just a quick reminder that we are catching up on our daily lives tomorrow at that local restaurant I mentioned.
Shit, I have lunch with my sisters at the same time tomorrow but I already told Anna I would make it. I feel bad bailing on them like that, I haven’t seen them for a week now.
Me: I am sorry, but I can’t make it. I already promised Anna lunch together.
Chloe’s text comes almost immediately.
Chloe: Hey, that’s not fair! This is our thing, you have to tell Anna you can’t make it, she will understand, all friends will understand.
Except Anna wouldn’t understand, she will think I am putting my sisters before her.
My sisters and Anna aren’t friendly to each other. I have tried to get them together plenty of times but they would rather die than be in the same room together. My phone lit up with a new text.
Charlotte: Don’t you see it, Clara? She’s controlling you and taking advantage of your kindness. That witch is fucking exploiting you!
Me: Anna cares about me; she would never hurt me like that.
Charlotte: We are just watching out for you, okay? Be careful.
And, that’s it. No more messages from Charlotte and Chloe. I place my phone on the desk and force myself not to cry.
\--
Barbara Brookes:
Power comes from being Mrs. Brookes, with just a snap of fingers, and I can have anything and everything. The media respects me but now that Devon brings a new girlfriend- mind you, that little twerp hasn’t bought a girlfriend home; she can’t be the next Mrs. Brookes, what’s that bastard trying to do? Rob me of my position?
No, that’s impossible. I spent my whole life fighting just to get to this position.
“Ma’am? Do you want a refill of your wine?” the perky new maid that resumed today asks me, still holding the bottle of champagne I requested. I am in the relaxation room, with my phone.
“No, thank you. You can leave now.” I say politely, waving her off. This is the appearance I need to show everyone, that I care, that I am kind. Which of course, I am none of these things.
“Sure, ma’am.” She bows her head and takes the exit.
I don’t ever want to harm Devon, but his new girlfriend that means nothing to the people, with the annoying smile and pretty face? I don’t mind hurting her, because she’s a threat to my position.
Not to mention that she was eavesdropping when Devon and I were talking, she clearly has no manners at all. Who knew what she heard?
I grab the glass of wine on the table and stand up, my back hurts a bit and I remind myself to schedule an appointment with the doctor. I am not getting any younger again, at fifty-eight, I am already getting these hips pain.
I go towards the window and stare down; the lawn mower that comes weekly is already doing his job, my eyes fixes on the large portrait on the wall and my lips curl into a smirk. “Sorry, Kathy, but I wouldn’t apologize for what I did. Never.”
Grabbing my phone, I dial a number; it rings thrice before the owner picks up.
“Hello?” The owner’s voice is rugged on the other end. I don’t bother with pleasantries, those are for losers.
“Get me the fastest killing poison there is, I need it tonight.” Without waiting, I hang up, taking a sip from the wine and staring out the window.
Life, they say, is good when you are rich.