I Am Her...

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I Am Her... Page 3

by Sarah Ann Walker


  Shocked, I nearly yell, "Oh, I’m always thorough.” Shit. Where is he going with this?

  Waving his hand to comfort me, Mr. Shields responds, "Oh, I know that. It's just I need to tighten the belts a little for the next quarter. After purchasing the warehouse and machinery in Phoenix two weeks ago, we need to buckle down for a while. I know you do a good job. I tell everyone about ‘the Little Sugar' in Payables. I know how tough you are on some of the more creative, bullshit claims, but I'm just asking, between you and I, if you could look into some of the larger claims a little more closely."

  "Okay sir. Is there any Accounts Manager or claim you have in mind?"

  "Between you and me...?" When I nod emphatically, he continues. "Okay. Well, we just fired Craig, so if you could wait a little to process any claims he puts through, that’d be helpful. And could you watch Devon? I think he's screwing with his personal expenses, and claiming them as work expenses..." Michael? Oh, I like him. Please, not Michael. "…and that Lisa bitch from Denver. I think she's been using her hotel expenses with her lover, and claiming them for the Denver Petrol Reps. She's kind of a slut, but I've met her wimp-ass husband, so I don't really blame her for screwing around... I just don't want to pay for it." Bitch? Slut? Oh my god...

  "Um, okay. I'll look carefully at all the claims again. Is there anything else, Sir?" Please god, NO. Get me out of here.

  "Nope. That's it. I expect to see your reports on Monday before you issue the check run. Unless... you want something from me Sugar...?" Pause. What does that mean?

  Blushing, I rise from the chair as he stands- always the gentleman... Not. Mr. Shields is huge. Even with my heels, I'm only about 5'6. What is he, like 6'4 or 6'5?

  "Okay. Good. Thanks, Sugar. You just let me know if I can do anything for you..."

  Smiling as I turn, I practically run from his office.

  What the hell was that? As if I would ever need anything from him. He's huge. He would crush me for sure. He's not a good enemy to have though. I hope I didn't offend him when I left. I gave him my best smile, so I hope I didn't make him mad at me.

  Why does everyone call me names? Does anyone even know my first name? Does anyone know me at all? I wonder sometimes if I even know me.

  ==========

  Returning to my office, still visibly shaken, the phone rings, and in a moment of complete insanity I answer... "Good morning. Sugar, Honey, Sweetie, Babe, here. How can I help you?" Oh. My. GOD! WHAT HAVE I DONE?!

  "Well, good morning, Sugar, Honey, Babe. How are you this morning?" Shit. He forgot Sweetie. "Oops, I forgot Sweetie. Please forgive me," he says with a laugh.

  For a moment there is only silence… and then I just burst out laughing. Trying to calm myself, I'm mortified, but the laughter won't stop. I'm trying. I'm really, really trying, but I simply can't stop. This is so embarrassing.

  Hearing a low laughter on the other end of the phone, I try to shore up my reserve, but I just can't do it- nothing’s working. Every time I almost stop laughing, a giggle escapes, and I start laughing again.

  "Please... forgive me. It's been a long... d-day," I stammer through my laughter.

  "No problem. It's only 10:45, and already a long day for you...? Clearly, you need the laughter. This is Mr. Zinfandel. I'm new to the New York...." but he pauses, as I gasp.

  Laughter erupts from me all over again. Mr. Zinfandel? Mr. Z? I can't stop laughing. Gasping for breath, I try even harder to stop.

  "Mr. Zin-Zinfandel... I drank you last night." Oh. My. God. Did I just say that? WHAT HAVE I DONE? AGAIN?!

  I think I'm nearing hysteria. I can't stop laughing. Oh, please make this stop. My breath is hitching. My stomach is killing me. My head is pounding. But I just can't stop laughing. And my laughter sounds all weird and distorted or something. I don’t even really sound like me anymore.

  "Just breathe. I can hear you panicking. Breathe slowly. Come on, just breathe slowly for me..."

  Closing my eyes, I listen to his voice. He sounds so lovely, and confident. He's probably never had a panic-attack in his life. He's probably always so together and sure of himself. I wonder what he looks like.

  Slowly, after minutes have passed, I open my eyes and see Kayla in my office leaning against the door. Shit. How long has she been here? Smiling at her, I realize I'm still breathing slightly erratically, and I must look crazy.

  “WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?! The whole office can hear you laughing!" Kayla yells at me.

  Jumping at her words, I quickly cover the phone, and try to focus on her as my breath hitches.

  "Nothing’s going on. I'm f-fine Kayla. I'm talking to the new Accounts Manager out of New York... Mr. Zin- Zinfandel." Ooops. A little giggle escapes.

  I try to clamp down on the laughter. Shaking with the control I’m trying to hold over my body, the laughter is threatening to erupt again.

  Walking over to my desk, Kayla rips the phone from my hand, as I stare at her in shock.

  "Mr. Zinfandel. I do apologize, but we’ll have to get back to you shortly. We have an unexpected meeting beginning now. Again, I apologize, but... Oh! I see. Yes, she's alright. I’m sorry? Yes, I'm going to take care of her..." Take care of me? What the hell is she talking about?

  Trying to grab the phone away from Kayla, I stand as she glares down at me and continues. "Thank you, Mr. Zinfandel. Oh, Z? Yes, alright. Much better name, anyway. Prevents all us lushes in Chicago from falling off the wagon after speaking with you..."

  I can hear his rumble of laughter through the phone. Kayla is giving him her best smile. And though he can't see her, you can almost hear her seductive smile through the phone.

  "Apologize for my behavior..." I whisper, but Kayla just looks down at me and ignores me.

  What is she, like 5'10 or something? Why does she even wear high heels?

  "Z, I do apologize for this outburst. It's been a long day, and she rarely laughs so consider yourself lucky..." Kayla adds grinning at him through her voice.

  I think I’m going to die. Could this be any more embarrassing? Can I go home? I want to go home now. I want to go to sleep, and never wake up.

  ==========

  "Sweetie. What the fuck is going on with you? And DON'T say nothing. I know you, and there is definitely something going on," Kayla practically snarls at me. But she doesn't know me. No one knows me. I don't even know me.

  Exhaling, "I'm fine. Honestly, Kayla. I just got the giggles. Everyone gets the giggles. That's all," I flash my best, most innocent smile.

  "Yes. Everyone gets the giggles from time to time, but not you. I don't remember ever hearing you even laugh before. What IS it? Just tell me. Maybe, I can help."

  Kayla isn't going to stop. Kayla is going to continue her interrogation. She will continue, because she can. She is Kayla, and Kayla always gets what she wants.

  Without thinking, I scream, "I had a dirty dream about you last night! Well, kind of dirty I guess. We didn't actually do anything, but apparently my husband thought I was turned on in my sleep, and the next thing I knew he was making love to me while I was in a near coma from a bottle of Zinfandel..." Breaking out into laughter at the name, I continue. "…Marcus was quite turned on, by the way. He offered up his services. He is willing to have a threesome with you and me, because you are Hot Kayla. So if you're into a 'five minute man', thrusting his penis into your uterus hard... Marcus is your man. However, I did mention that sex wasn't very satisfying for me, so he's probably going to ignore my existence for the next two months or so, maybe even during the threesome. But if you're interested, I'll be sure to tell him- he probably wouldn't be quite so mad at me anymore, if you're game…"

  Breathing hard, almost choking on my nausea, I close my eyes and hear him deep inside me.

  "Breathe. Come on, Sweetheart. Just breathe slowly for me..."

  God, his voice was lovely. He sounded so deep, and silky. I try to picture him in my mind, but all I see is darkness.

  Slowly opening my eyes, I look up, and realize Kay
la is wiping mascara from my cheeks. She looks very concerned, and tender toward me. Embarrassed, I pull the tissue from her and begin cleaning my own face. Was I crying? Doubtful. It must have been the laughter.

  "You're going home, Sweetie. And I don't want to hear it. Grab your purse. I'll tell everyone you had a family emergency and we should expect you back tomorrow. That’ll buy you some time, in case you need more than today to recover." Recover? Recover from what? I'm fine. I just laughed.

  "Kayla. I'm good. I was just laughing. Honestly. Please forget what I told you about Marcus and me. Everything’s fine. I promise."

  "Yeah, right. Anyway, I'm not taking no for an answer, so you might as well get going. You need a break Sweetie. You need to get out of here. I'll forward your calls to my phone, and I’ll check your emails this afternoon. Everything will still be here when you return tomorrow."

  Looking at Kayla, I’m so embarrassed. I can't stand to see her eyes on me because she is so full of pity. I want to cry, but I won't. I don't cry. I will never cry in front of anyone. I don't do that, ever.

  "Um...Okay. Please tell everyone I'll be back tomorrow."

  "Sure. No problem. And Sweetie, don't worry about you and Marcus. You'll work it out. And don't worry about the dream either... it happens. I've dreamed about lots of people before. It's no big deal. It's flattering actually..." she says with a grin.

  Blushing, I think I'm going to die- right here, right now.

  Standing, I grab my purse and head for the door, but before I can leave Kayla says, "Oh, and please tell Marcus that I'm not interested. I think you are more than enough woman for him. He is quite lucky to have you..." Turning, I leave my office, ignoring Kayla completely.

  Sure. I'm MORE than enough woman for Marcus. With my 'big thighs and butt', I'm sure Marcus is just drooling to be with me. I'm sure he has dirty dreams about me. I'm sure he thinks about me constantly between the weeks-long wait between love-making sessions.

  ==========

  Returning home, I feel exhausted. Though my sleep was interrupted by Marcus in the night, I still slept for at least 6 hours. That’s usually more than enough. So why am I so tired?

  Walking to my bedroom, I remove my black dress suit, and climb on my bed in my bra and underwear. I never do this. This feels kind of illicit. I'm always dressed. If it wasn't for the mirror across from the shower, I would never see myself naked. I don't like naked. Naked feels dirty. Naked feels like asking to be hurt. I don’t do half dressed, and I certainly DON’T DO NAKED...

  ==========

  Waking from my nap, I realize it's after 7pm. I slept for over 7 hours? What the hell? Jumping from the bed, I listen for Marcus, but hear only silence. Exhaling, I run for my closet to pull on my 2 piece pajamas. Stripping off my bra and underwear... I'm suddenly alerted to movement in the room. Grabbing my pajama top, I try to cover myself, as I see Marcus standing in our room looking at my body.

  "What do you want?" I ask a little too aggressively.

  Taking his eyes off my breasts, Marcus replies, "Nothing. I was just coming to check on you. You didn't cook dinner, and the house was so quiet, I didn't know if you were home." When do I ever go out, especially on a week night? Where would I go?

  "Sorry about dinner. I wasn't feeling well. Do you want me to make you something?"

  "No. We had a late meeting, so we had sandwiches around 4:30. I'm good. What's wrong? You look terrible."

  "Nothing," I exhale. I didn't even realize I had been holding my breath until then.

  "Okay... Well, when you want to apologize for this morning, and talk about what you said to me, come find me. I'll be in my office, or in the spare room." Turning, Marcus leaves the room without a backward glance.

  I am absolutely stunned again. Apologize? Apologize for what? Telling him sex isn't that great? Or that he kind of assaulted me while I slept? Or apologize for not wanting him to see my naked big thighs and butt? The list is endless...

  Quickly; I throw on my pajamas and run for the bathroom. Looking at my reflection... EW! I have mascara everywhere. I look terrible. No wonder Marcus asked me what was wrong even though he's mad at me. See, he is a nice man. He cares for me. He does care, at least. Finally, I remove my smeared make-up, brush my teeth and go pee. I'm still so tired even after my 7 plus hour ‘nap’.

  Crawling into bed, I exhale again. Why do I keep holding my breath? That’s new. Laughing is new. Leaving the office is new. Talking back to my husband is new. Swearing out loud is new. What’s going on with me? Am I actually crazy now, no longer becoming crazy?

  Wednesday, May 25th

  CHAPTER 3

  When I wake up, Marcus is already gone. Somehow Marcus slipped into our bedroom and dressed in his walk-in closet without waking me, thank god. I can get up, dress and shower alone, in peace. I don’t have to see his eyes of disapproval and disappointment. I’m free of his judgments, well, at least until this evening when he returns home.

  Downstairs, I see his cereal bowl is in the sink and the coffee pot is half empty, which is somewhat comforting. At least he isn't acting strangely. He’s just ignoring me, which I expect. I always expect to be ignored when someone is mad at me. I'm usually ignored regardless of what I’ve done. Being ignored is how I’m most comfortable actually, because when you’re being ignored no one ever makes eye contact with you.

  ==========

  When I arrive at work, I'm nervous. I don't really want to see Kayla. I hated her seeing me freak out yesterday. I hate people seeing me act up. I like to be calm and controlled- Not like yesterday. Yesterday was just weird. I've never laughed like that before in my life. I think I lost 10 pounds laughing my ass off... literally. Oh, no. I feel a giggle bubbling up my throat.

  "Hey, Sweetie," Kayla says, making me jump as she follows me toward my office. I push the giggle down deep. "How are you this morning? You look better. Did you and Marcus work it out last night?"

  "Yes. We're good." I lie.

  I hate lying. I absolutely never lie because it’s just not worth the stress I feel after a lie, fearing whomever might find out the truth about me. But Kayla can be ruthless when she's on a mission, so it's better to lie to her, just this once.

  Looking right in my eyes, Kayla smiles, "I'm sure you still need to talk to your 'Five minute man' about some things, but I'm glad you guys are working it out." God, I HATE eye contact!

  “Yes, we're working it out...” with silence, I mutter to myself. Ugh, different topic needed. "Did anything happen after I left yesterday?"

  "Nope. I left your emails alone, because they had expense attachments, and your phone only rang a couple times. I told Heinrick's Receptionist to email over his expense reports pronto, and I think I scared her a little. Oh well, she'll learn. Big Daddy Shields called down to talk to you, but when I told him you had to leave for the rest of the day, he said it wasn't an emergency, and he would talk to you when you return."

  Oh no! Mr. Shields knows I left before lunch. "Was he mad at me? Did he sound mad, Kayla?!" I ask desperately.

  "No. I told you he was fine. He'll call you today." She’s looking at me strangely again.

  "What?" I ask defensively.

  "Nothing. You just seem a little high-strung Sweetie. Are you sure you're okay? Do you need to spend more time away today?”

  "No. I'm good." I almost yell at her... almost. Smiling to cover my intensity, "Kayla, thanks for your help yesterday, but I really need to start on these reports. The math alone is a killer. I'll see you later, okay?"

  "No problem. I'll see you at lunch?"

  "Ah, no. I have to run a few errands, but I'll talk to you later?" I smile.

  "Alright, later... but Sweetie, if you want to talk I'm here, okay? I won't repeat a confidence. You can trust me, I promise."

  As if I would trust anyone with my strange thinking patterns right now. As if I would trust anyone about anything, anyway.

  “Thank you Kayla, but I'm fine. Honestly..." Obviously convinced, Kayla smiles and leaves my of
fice.

  Sincerely, I love having Kayla in my corner, even if I don't totally trust or confide in her. Kayla is awesome. I wish I was as tough as Kayla.

  ==========

  Turning on my computer, I check my emails. Yes! Another expense report completed. Only two calls to make today. Oh, no, not two... Kayla dealt with Heinrick. Hopefully I get his report today. That leaves only the Craig/Zinfandel expense report to figure out.

  Checking my inbox, I see an email from Mr. Zinfandel dated yesterday afternoon. Opening the email, I’m so embarrassed, I blush like he’s actually here in front of me. Who would have ever thought laughter could cause such stupidity in the workplace?

  ___________________________________

  From: Z. Zinfandel

  Subject: Laughter

  Tuesday, May, 23

  2:10pm

  Dear Ms. Sugar, Honey, Sweetie, Babe,

  How are you this afternoon?

  After such an interesting name and introduction, I

  find myself wondering if you’re doing well.

  Sincerely,

  Mr. Zinfandel (or just 'Z' for you lushes in Chicago.)

  ___________________________________

  And there’s another yesterday.

  ___________________________________

  From: Z. Zinfandel

  Subject: Breathing

  Tuesday, May 24

  4:45pm

  Dear Ms. Sugar...

  I do hope your afternoon was better than your morning.

  Please tell me you’re breathing easier.

  Z

  ___________________________________

 

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