by Nella Tyler
“Come on! Let’s go out for some lunch. My treat!” she offered, obviously trying to change the subject.
I hesitated, knowing that I had no interest in eating and likely wouldn’t touch a bite of my food. However, before I could decline, Laura practically dragged me through my front door, toward the car.
“I know the perfect place,” she exclaimed as I broke away, fumbling with my key and finally locking my door. “Don’t you want to know where it is?” she inquired when she felt a though I was ignoring her.
I didn’t care, considering the thought of any sustenance churned my stomach but to save myself from having to hear her complain about my grumbling I pretended to be interested.
“There is this awesome little deli down the street! I’ve always meant to go but I’m usually coming or going and it’s never the right time to stop in. They just opened,” she insisted, genuinely enthused.
I agreed, trying to match her enthusiasm. I know I failed miserably but Laura either didn’t notice or didn’t acknowledge my reaction.
From the moment we were seated, I noticed that Laura’s attention was elsewhere.
Following her lusty gaze toward a man sitting in the corner and eating alone, I wondered if her story about trying the deli out was a ruse.
Still, after a moment, I decided that I didn’t know him and thus, there was a good chance that Laura didn’t actually know him either. Although, she was often far more confident than I was when it came to making friends with strangers.
“Oh my God, he is so cute!” Laura finally insisted when her deviated attention was starting to stumble into the conversation.
I glanced over at him again, now gauging his aesthetics. He had a nice build, but he wasn’t exactly my type. There was something about him that made him seem plain.
“Yes, he is cute,” I offered, trying to be supportive.
“He has been eyeing us since the moment we walked in,” Laura informed, which caused me to chance another look, trying to find what made this man so intriguing to my friend.
After all, while Laura liked the attention she received for a body she worked hard to maintain, she was usually picky and only pointed men out if they were unbelievably handsome.
However, regardless of my earnest attempt to see something special in this man, I couldn’t.
Maybe it’s because he isn’t Dexter, I thought but tried to quickly shove the idea out of my mind. That’s ridiculous! I told myself.
Still, I couldn’t convince myself to have any interest in the man. I could see how he would be pleasing, but there was nothing all that special about him.
All I really wanted wants to apologize to Dexter again and try to figure out a way past this, without what we had started being obliviated.
“You haven’t eaten a thing,” Laura narrowed her eyes at me after peeling herself away from the hunky human to the left of our table.
I stared down at my sandwich, which only had a few small bites missing. I wanted to be indifferent, but instead of having questions to answer, I picked up the damn sandwich and took a bite.
Laura’s expression still didn’t seem pleased, but at least she didn’t comment on it again.
Eventually, after finishing her meal while I forced myself through my own, Laura got up to use the bathroom, and I went straight for my phone.
My heart sank when it was confirmed that I hadn’t received so much as a text from Dexter, but I decided that I was going to write an apologyin an effort to get any semblance of conversation flowing between the two of us.
Hi Dex, I began but quickly, erased it, to start again. Dear Dexter…
“No!” I grumbled and finally settled with a quick; Dex, I am really sorry for betraying your trust. I feel awful about it and would like the opportunity to talk it out. Please let me know. Talk to you soon.
I thought about putting an emoji heart at the end but stopped myself. I didn’t want him to think this was some kind of childish attempt to win him back. I wanted him to know that I was seriously contrite about my actions.
As I was about to hit send, I was caught off guard by a loud deterrence.
“I knew it!” Laura exclaimed, scaring me so much I nearly dropped my phone.
“What?” I demanded, narrowing my eyes at her.
“You’re texting Dexter, aren’t you?”
“No,” I answered, dumbly.
“Then why did you hide it?” she insisted, quickly swiping for my phone.
Before I could think fast enough to grab it out of her hands, she pulled it from my grasp.
“Give me that back!” I exclaimed in an indignant fashion, narrowing my eyes with aggravation as I unsuccessfully tried to retrieve it.
I watched her eyes move across the screen for a few seconds before she looked back up at me.
“Oh no! You are not sending this!”
“Why not? I want him to know that I feel bad.”
“No!” she snapped, “He was the dick, he’s the one that needs to text you back and hope you’ll take him back after the crap he pulled.”
“Yeah, well, I did go against him. I knew I shouldn’t have told my father and I did.”
“So, what? In my opinion, you did him a favor. It wasn’t bad news, and sure, it wasn’t your news to tell, but he sat on it for way too long. How were you supposed to know he hadn’t given his father the news that was supposed to save his job? He’s a dumbass.”
I wasn’t sure that I agreed entirely, but I was willing to heed her warning since I did feel she had a point.
For the rest of the day, I tried to forget about Dexter and enjoy hanging out with my friend.
Dexter
When I woke up, I felt like shit.
However, considering I hadn’t gone to work in a few days by this point, I knew I should probably stop being spiteful and return to weather the storm that awaited me.
I knew I had a fine line to walk between being an asshole, projecting that I don’t give a shit and I can do what I want and looking like I was hiding.
I certainly wasn’t hiding.
Nevertheless, I was sure that I had an infinite number of left-handed compliments accompanied by an inevitable professional flogging coming to me and I wanted it to be over with.
I knew, especially considering how I had handled the situation, my father wasn’t going to let this go easily.
After all, it promised to be far too much fun for his annoyingly large ego, and the longer I stayed away, the longer my torment would last.
So, the sooner I showed up, the sooner it would be over. The only hope I had left was that I could refrain from killing the old man after, yet again, not being able to get the recognition I deserved.
I groaned as I rolled out of bed, shoving my feet into my slippers, taking my frustration out on them and shuffled my way across the bedroom, toward the bathroom.
I didn’t know why I felt so undeniably shitty considering I hadn’t drank all that much in the past few weeks and I had avoided everyone, including Garret.
It wasn’t that I was all that upset; I simply didn’t want to have to deal with the countless insinuations and aggravations that came with not talking to Mazie.
I dressed myself in my normal attire, though I found the regularity repulsing, and headed off to work.
Upon pulling into my parking spot, one of the few, aggravatingly minimal things I had ever received in the form of appreciation, I regretted going inside for the hundredth time.
I closed my eyes and drew in a deep, aggravated breath before letting it out slowly while my hand reached for the door, opening it before I could stop myself.
With a fake sense of confidence bolstering my swagger, I entered the office as I normally did. I pretended that there was no reason for anyone to say anything and acted as though I had already assumed my rightful place as head of the company.
“Good morning!” Jen exclaimed as I passed the receptionist’s desk. “You’ve been gone all week, Mr. Myers…it’s good to see you,” she offered easily with a
large grin.
I had no idea, nor care whether it was genuine or not, but what did bother me was the perfect reincarnation of Mazie that I saw when I looked at her. I nearly stepped back but refrained from reacting any more noticeably than simply blinking as I stared at her.
Once I was sure I couldn’t interact with her, without the fear of slipping and calling her Mazie’s name, I simply nodded and walked past her, into my office.
I felt her eyes as they followed me, but I was far too concerned with my fast-paced heart and the fact that my mind was playing tricks on me to worry about hurting her feelings.
When I finally made it to my office, actively trying to avoid everyone I came into contact with, I closed the door and locked it before thrusting the chair out from my desk and dropping into it.
Burying my head in my hands, trying to somehow reign in the fact that I missed Mazie, I knew that I had to put all of this aside so that I could have a talk with my father.
There was no way I was going to let this get any more complicated than it already was.
After all, I had come to work with one purpose today, and therefore, I figured that I might as well get it over with.
I grumbled at the thought but instantly pushed myself away from the desk so that I could force myself toward the door.
When I walked into my father’s office, I was struck by the same sight that I had received upon entering this office my entire life.
My father, sitting in his chair, behind his desk, paying no mind to my presence. Privacy blinds were always closed, but the light was always bright. However, with the stark tension that was always present in the room, the office always remained daunting.
I cleared my throat, hoping to get him to look up for his work so that I might look him in the eyes as I told him the biggest news of my career, even if it was a little late.
“Hello, Dexter,” my father answered evenly, without looking up from his paperwork. “You’ve been gone all week. I thought you might have finally quit. Although, if that is your present intention, I am pleased to see that you have the balls to face me in person.”
It had always aggravated me how he always gave the impression that what I had to say was never worth his undivided attention.
His insult was superfluous and egregious, but because I expected there were far more to come, I didn’t allow it to bother me.
“No. That’s not what I want,” I answered, trying to keep an even tone, even though I could already feel myself seething from his lack of attention.
“Then, what is it that you need?” my father asked, still unwilling to turn away from his precious work.
“I wanted to personally let you know that my trip was successful and I locked down the deal,” I replied with a grin playing at my features and pride swelling inside of me. There was still a part of myself that had no idea how I had pulled it off, and that was something to revel in.
“Obviously, you had no care to tell me first. The whole damn world knew before you decide to tell me,” he muttered, “But nonetheless, your little sabbatical has cost us precious time.” With this, his eyes finally glared at me from his work. His face was angry, without a shred of pride inherent in it.
This, above all else, made me angry.
“That may be so, but I still closed the deal. I have every right to take time off,” I answered harshly.
“Not when it jeopardizes the deal you claim you worked so hard to accomplish,” my father retorted, his eyes glistening with anger. “Besides, the deal isn’t really done until the papers are signed and since you are the serendipitous, conquering hero, we need you to be here to sign those papers, and you have not.”
“Well, I’m here now,” I answered, now showing my aggravation as I glowered back at him, taking a defensive stance.
“And yet, there has still been no signing,” he retorted.
I couldn’t believe this! There was absolutely no pleasing this man!
I huffed, unable to think of a response that would diffuse the situation and therefore, I decided to walk out.
However, as I was pivoting around, there was a knock at the door, followed by Mr. Lawson.
“Hi, Mr. Lawson,” I replied, trying to sound as though nothing was wrong. “How are you?”
Besides the fact that I wasn’t expecting to have to be pleasant when I wanted to punch a hole in the wall, I was also struck with a terrible sense of fear. No longer was Mr. Lawson simply my boss, a man I had learned to respect far more than my own father anyway, but he was also a direct connection the woman who had become my forbidden fruit.
The idea was mortifying, and that was not a feeling that I was burdened with often.
Somewhere within my rapid-fire thoughts, I wondered why it couldn’t have been anyone else who had come into the office. I could have taken out my angst on anyone else besides Brent Lawson.
“I’m doing well; how about you?” he asked, seeming genuine and completely unaffected by what had transpired between myself and his daughter.
Or rather, what hadn’t?
In a way, if only to get back at Mazie or simply to assuage my own instantly burning curiosity, I wanted to ask him if she had told him about our relationship.
Although I knew, even as the thought crossed my mind, I wasn’t that much of a dick.
“I am well.”
“I heard about your big victory this past week. Congratulations!” he exclaimed with far more enthusiasm than I believe my father had ever mustered in my presence.
I grinned, hoping that the earnest and due compliment from my father’s partner singed deep into my father’s cold, dead heart.
“Thank you, Sir,” I nodded in appreciative acknowledgment and left the room as quickly as I could. I wanted to look back at my father to see if he had given any unintentional reaction, but I didn’t want to look as though I was expecting anything from either of them. Therefore, I kept my curiosity to myself.
Yet, when I left my father’s office, closing the door behind me, I couldn’t help but wish that for just one second, my father could be a dad instead of a pompous, dickhead of a boss.
Although, since it hadn’t happened yet, I figured it was high time I stopped trying to draw blood from a stone.
Mazie
When I arrived at the yoga class I took with Laura, I had a feeling that this session was going to prove to be anything but relaxing. From the moment I saw Laura, I knew she couldn’t wait to grill me on my personal life.
Since she was working all the time and wasn’t usually looking for commitment because of it, she liked to live through me, at least in that aspect. While she was my best friend, which gave her that right, at least to some degree, the way she went about it was often aggravating, especially when she tried to give me advice.
Considering the lack of communication that had transpired between Dexter and me, there was a good chance that I wasn’t going to like the conversation that I was certain was inevitable.
“Hey, Laura,” I tried to be casual, though I knew she was ready to pounce on the answer to her curiosity the moment it was even remotely acceptable.
“Good morning, Mazie,” she answered with a sly grin, which quickly turned into a strange, almost patronizingly empathetic expression, “You don’t look like you’ve slept in a week!”
“I’m fine, but I do agree that I need a break. That’s why I hope this is a relaxing class,” I replied, trying to give her a hint.
“I agree. I need to de-stress,” she answered, and at first, I was hopeful that she had received and respected my hint.
Instead of starting another subject, she unrolled her mat, drew in a deep breath, and focused on her chakras. However, after a short moment, I felt her eyes on me again while I tried to gain the inner peace that has eluded me for a while now.
At first, I tried to ignore her, but the intensity of her stare continued. I drew in a deep breath through my nose and let it out slowly, trying to ease the tension and help my mind wander past the awkwardness of her
stare.
Eventually, though, I found my efforts were to no avail.
“Yes?” I inquired, trying not to sound aggravated.
“Class hasn’t started yet…and I have a question,” she replied with a strange intrigue.
“Okay…” I offered but said nothing else.
“Has Dexter tried to get in contact with you yet?” she asked as though the question had burst out of her and it was all she could do to hang onto the words for as long as she had.
“No, he hasn’t,” I replied, trying my best not to roll my eyes as obviously and continuously as I was in my head.
I knew she wouldn’t be able to resist, but at least she is getting it out of her system now, before class.
“See?” Laura sorted in a tone that assured me I wasn’t going to like what she had to say. That should tell you. Like I said the other day, he doesn’t give a shit about you.” I must have looked far more hurt than I intended to show, because immediately, her tone softened, “Look, I’d love to say that you were different and that he found what he lacked in you, but unfortunately, I think you were an infatuation, and as soon as shit started to get real, the fantasy died and so did your relationship.”
I scowled at her, growing angrier because I didn’t have a counter with which to argue her point.
“I’m sorry,” she offered, but as much as I knew she meant it, the sentiment was hollow. Her idea of a relationship was a mutually beneficial arrangement. It was a business transaction, in a lot of ways, and while that worked for her, that wasn’t what I was looking for.
Dexter had made me feel something. I was starting to believe that there might actually be something real between us. While it lasted, the feeling was wonderful, but now that it had apparently ended, it left me feeling stupid and vulnerable.
I sighed and shook my head, unwilling to even try to formulate a rebuttal.
“It’s okay…” I told her, and thankfully, the class started, so Laura couldn’t inquire about it again.
After class, I was sure to choose the subject quickly, in an attempt to draw her away from resurrecting what I hoped to be a dead issue, at least for the moment.
