by Dylan Allen
“His father is an African immigrant; did you know that? His mother is in fucking jail. People like him, they always need concessions. You don’t see me with a parent in jail. Raising a kid? Coming in late? It is so typical of them.”
Each word out of his mouth is like a slap. I can’t believe what I am hearing. Again. The first time I thought he was jealous of Simon’s success. Now, I know this is vitriol borne of hate; I don’t care what it costs me, but I won’t sit here and listen to this bullshit.
“Matthew!” My palms hit the table as I stand up. “Stop it!” I hiss, my voice reflecting the anger, and insult his words have inspired.
He looks startled. “Maybe you know and don’t care. But I’m an immigrant, too. My mother is African. My father is Middle Eastern. You are insulting me as you insult him.”
“Hey, hey, I had no idea. You don’t look like… You don’t sound like… You went to Harvard,” he splutters, his face so red it would be funny if he wasn’t such a disgusting person.
“I’d like to pretend you didn’t say any of this. I’d like to pretend I didn’t hear the last five minutes of what came out of your mouth.” I continue trying to keep my voice steady, not showing just how enraged I am.
“I don’t know why you think Simon stepping up to raise his nephew is a weakness, or why the mistakes of his parents have something to do with his nationality or his heritage, but that man has more decency in his fingernail than you do in your entire body.”
I point to the door.
“I really need you to leave my office. Now. And I need you to not come back unless we’ve got work to discuss.”
Matthew’s face transforms from the handsome, jovial boy next door visage he’s worn since I’ve known him, to a dark, angry sneer.
“Oh, I see. You fucked him?” he flings at me. I can’t even try to hide my shock at his language and his tone. “Is that why he always looks so pissed off when he sees us together?”
He leans toward me across my desk. I lean away from him. He inspects me, like he’s looking at something foreign and disgusting under a microscope.
“You know, now that I know you’re half black I can totally see it. Are you fucking Jack, too? Is that how you got this job?”
“Get out, Matthew. Now.” I say with a strength I don’t feel. I am grateful for the desk sitting between so he can’t see my knees shacking.
“I’m leaving.” That sickening sneer is back on his face. “It doesn’t smell as fresh in here anymore.” He starts to walk away, but just as he reaches my door, he turns back to face me.
“Word of advice, Addie. And this one will be free. You should keep your family background to yourself. It won’t do you any good in The City. They believe blood always tells. Simon’s making them money, so they are cutting him some slack, but the minute that ends, he’ll be out on his ass. Remember what’s important. Choose your friends carefully. ”
He strolls out of my office and pulls the door closed behind him. The quiet click of the door is as ominous as a slam. I can’t believe how this conversation devolved.
I sink down into my chair and put my face into my hands. I knew people looked at me and didn’t see anything other than a slightly tanned woman. I knew bigotry like what has just spewed out of Matthew’s mouth existed, in spades. I’ve just never had it directed at me.
“Shit,” I bite out. I need to clear my head. Failure here is not an option. I decide go upstairs, grab a cup of coffee, and try to think about what my next steps should be.
September 25, 2014
When it rains it pours. Mercy was late this morning. There were delays on the Jubilee line, and so I was late to work. I tried to call Matthew so we could try to start our meeting while I was en route to work, but it kept ringing with no response. Then when I got the office, they tell me he’s in the new girl’s office.
And what did I find? Matthew hunched over Addie’s desk, fucking sniffing her hair, pretending to be reading something from her computer. I had to suffer the indignity of feeling the like the intruder in the situation.
Matthew looked like he’s won something, Addie looked like she’d rather have a chainsaw wielding psycho walk through the door than me.
I wanted to walk over to Matthew and punch that stupid smirk off his face, kiss her, and let him know she is mine. That a few days ago, she was spread out on my kitchen table. That I know what her pussy tastes like. That I know what she sounds like when she comes. I feel like I am going crazy.
I’ve dated casually. I’ve never lied to anyone about the nature of what I want. It’s never been more than sex because honestly, I’ve had no room in my life for more. And in all of my twenty-eight years I’ve never wanted more than that.
But there is something about this woman. I feel her. I see her. There is something between us.
Yes, I am attracted to her physically. She is ridiculously beautiful. But when she looks at me, I see something of myself in her eyes, even though we couldn’t be more different.
My life is chaos. I come from criminals and drug addicts. I did not grow up with a silver spoon in mouth. I may have gone to the best schools, but only because I worked my way there. I am not saying she is not smart, but you can see her innate class a mile off. I am raising a child. She is young and starting her career.
But no way in the fucking world am I going to sit here and let her date that lawyer who tries to fuck everything that walks. Especially not when she belongs to me.
My conversation with Kyle the other night was like removing a shackle I didn’t even know I was wearing. I’ve done a good job with my family. He’s mentally and physically healthy. Henry has a loving home and I am allowed to want more for myself. And that more is Addie.
I have fucked things up with her royally. I need to figure out how to get back in her good graces. I’ve got my work cut out for me, especially if douche bags like Matthew fucking Roddam do it for her.
She’s smarter than that, right? God, I hope so. I sigh and get up to head to our office’s cafeteria to top up my coffee.
I see her almost as soon as I walk in and my first thought is to leave. No, fuck that. This is a golden opportunity, and I’m going to take it. She is seated with her back to me, nursing a mug, of what, I am not sure.
When I am few feet away her back stiffens suddenly and she turns her head in my direction. Her eyes narrow. Instead of the deterrent they were meant to be, the golden slits beckon me; I walk right up to her table and pull out the chair across from her.
She starts to stand up—her eyes averted, her jaw set. I put my arm on her gently forearm. “Addie, there’s no need to leave. I come in peace.”
She scoffs. “Right. This instant. What about tomorrow? Or next week?”
“I know I haven’t been the most reliable person and so asking you to trust me would be ridiculous. But we do have to work together. I am assuming you value your professional reputation as much as, or maybe even more than I do mine. So, let’s just make a truce. I was a dick. I admit it. And I am sorry.”
“I don’t want to talk about that, Simon. Let’s keep this strictly about work. I can be cool if you can be. You came into my office this morning. You glared at me. You didn’t say a word to me and then you left. Now you’re here talking about peace.” She puts the peace in air quotes and I chuckle.
Her contemptuous glare only made me laugh harder. “It’s not funny. I am here to do my job. Part of that is treating you, my client, with civility. I expect the same from you.” She says with bitterness and anger in her tone which surprises and sobers me.
“I know I’ve acted like an asshole. I’m sorry. It’s never been about you—”
She cuts me off. “This is not about you, okay? I’ve got a lot of shit to figure out right now without you adding to it with your hot and cold act. So if you don’t mind, I’d like to finish my coffee in peace. You’ve said what you came to say, now can you please just go?”
Her earlier comment about civility seems forgotten as she says th
is. When she is done, she closes her eyes as if wishing when she opens them I’ll be gone. I see her throat working, and I can see she is struggling to hold back tears.
My hackles rise. Someone has upset her, it’s not me, and it’s more than just playing hot and cold.
I risk a rebuke and reach out and cover her hand with mine. She doesn’t pull away. Her eyes squeeze shut even tighter and her head bows slightly. My stomach knots.
“What happened?” I ask as softly as I can. The last time I saw her, Matthew was in her office. That man is such a fucking asshole.
I make a deductive guess when she still doesn’t respond. “Was it Matthew?”
She doesn’t say anything, but nods.
Rage, hot and rapid rises in my chest, and I struggle to contain it. I look at my hand and my knuckles are nearly white from the grip I have on the table.
“What did he do, Addie? Did he touch you?” I ask in a voice that brooks no resistance.
I’ve heard rumors of him pressing unwanted advances on temps and junior associates, but that he would have dared do that to Addie makes me crazy.
Addie puts her hand on my forearm and I realize I was starting to stand up. “No, Simon, he didn’t touch me,” she whispers. Her eyes open and the sorrow in them is almost unbearable.
My rage is slightly banked, but I know that something happened to upset her and that he is the cause. I wonder if it was something romantic and now all I know is a jealousy so fierce, I know I won’t be able to temper it.
“How long have you worked here?” She asks. I blink at her in surprise. This is the last thing I expected her to say.
“Five years.” I respond. I bite back my urge to ask why, knowing she will tell me on her own time. I don’t take my eyes off her face. Her eyes are open, but she is staring beyond me.
“Did they hire you straight from your Master’s program?”
“Yes…”
She only nods as she continues to stare out at the view of the River Thames.
“Addie,” I begin tentatively, not wanting to disrupt whatever train of thought she’s on. “What’s going on?”
“I’ve worked really hard, Simon,” she says. Her voice is no longer a whisper and her eyes swing to meet mine head on. “I’ve worked my ass off.
“I know everyone thinks I have a pedigree of some sort. You probably think so, too, right?” She asks this rhetorically and doesn’t wait for me to respond.
“I don’t. I worked my ass off to get into Harvard undergrad and Harvard Law. No one gave me a single inch. In fact, people kept putting barriers in my way. I knocked them all down, and I did it because I knew what I wanted. Now I’m here and some motherfucker thinks he can tell me he knows I don’t deserve to be here because people like us,” she points her index finger at between the two of us, “don’t belong here.”
“What are you talking about? You’ve lost me.” My mind doesn’t want to process what she is saying. “What did Matthew say?”
She takes a long sip of her drink. Her eyes close as she does, and I watch her as she drinks.
Even now, in the midst of turmoil, her beauty steals my breath. That freckle on the edge of her nostril teases me. That gold pendant is nestled against her throat and I’m jealous of it. I want to sniff the spot that nestles it. I look back at her face and she is watching me, too.
Before I can speak, she says, “Make this project a fucking success. Don’t let a single detail escape your notice. Take care of your family, but focus on this project. You earned this job. Don’t give anyone a reason to say otherwise.”
Her eyes are blazing gold bullion. This woman can have anything she wants from me right now. I can only nod as she stands and walks out of the cafeteria.
October 2, 2014
It’s been almost week since my weird run in with Simon in the cafeteria, and I haven’t seen him since. Avoiding him is not difficult; I have been working from my firm’s offices in the city. This is my first day back in Canary Wharf, and I am nervous about seeing him again.
On my walk from the tube I think back to that afternoon. I was so upset when he found me in the cafeteria. I was reeling from Matthew’s verbal assault.
As our conversation unfolded, I realized a few things. First: The best way to fight back against shits like Matthew is to be fucking great. Second: Simon going after him physically would only reinforce whatever negative stereotype he was harboring. Third: Simon was about to go looking for Matthew on my behalf.
Holy shit!
I know it’s stupid. Especially in the middle of all the serious things that were happening, but it was the third revelation that was the most profound in my mind. Simon was pissed off on my behalf. Simon likes me.
I don’t even know what to do with that information. Especially given how he has treated me. But, his first reaction to me being upset was to kick the ass of the person he thought had upset me. It doesn’t take a genius to know what it means.
And it turned me on—so much. And right away all I thought was; He cannot fail. I want to help him. So I gave him that speech, and I left so he could get back to work.
My day goes by in a blur. It’s not lost on me Simon doesn’t come to my office, and I don’t manage to work up the nerve to go to his. I’m buried under a mountain of paperwork Matthew seems to have unearthed in my absence and spend most of the day talking to their finance department.
Being placed in their office to review documents, is seen as the grunt assignment on the team working for Montiva. But, for me, it’s nice to be away from the ivory tower of LaSalle and Willis.
Canary Wharf has a very young vibe. It feels like a place where people come to get a fresh start. The air is ripe with possibility. I’m in a pretty good mood at the end of the day.
I am walking through the open courtyard which leads to the tube station when my phone rings. I see it’s my sister Lilly. I stop to sit on one of the many benches lining the area and answer the call.
“Hello,” I chirp as I answer. “Hey, sissy poo,” she singsongs back and it is so good to hear her voice. “Hold on a sec,” she says. When I hear the connection click, I know immediately this is not a going to be a pleasant call. She is adding Milly to the call. This is a strategy they use when they want to ambush me.
It is just as I predicted. They want to talk about the press conference proposed by Agent Walker. They want to do it and try to sound like they understand my reluctance.
“Addie,” Lilly speaks first, “We know you’re getting settled in your new life and your new job. So, we get it. You don’t want to dredge this up. But you were so young when he left. Things were not as black and white as the news reported. Dad wasn’t a thief, Addie, and Mom really needs this”
I cut her off sharply. “Then why did he run, Lil? Why did he wait until his children had left for school and his wife was at the fucking grocery store, and without so much as a hug goodbye disappeared into thin air? Is that what an innocent person does? I do get it, and I am sick of you and Milly treating me like I am still a kid. I am not doing a fucking press conference.”
I hear Milly’s sharp intake of air at my curse. I don’t care. I am so sick of them handling me.
“If you want to do it, fine. If you want to drag our name back into the spotlight and ruin my career before it starts and your own lives, fine, go ahead. Do you think the man who turned his back on us is going to give up his freedom because we asked him to? He couldn’t care less what we fucking think!” My voice is raised, frustration and anger clog my throat and my last sentence comes out in a choked sob.
Milly starts to speak. “Adelaide, I know you are upset, but there are things you don’t know. Things none of us know and things I think we need to give him a chance to explain. He was so doting. He gave us the world. He protected us from everything. Does it make sense he would just leave?”
I don’t say anything. I have nothing say. I know they believe this. I will just never agree with them.
Lilly’s resignation and fatigue a
re evident when she speaks. “Addie, we won’t do this without you, so if you don’t want to do it, it won’t happen.”
The sadness in her voice makes me feel a twinge of guilt. My sisters would do anything for me, but this, this one thing, I cannot do. If it were for them, fine. But they want me to do this for my father, and I will not do anything for him other than try to forget him.
“I’m sorry, guys.” I say and then mumble with my heart full of regret and sadness, “I love you.” Then I disconnect the call.
I sit there, thinking about my sisters and how they could possibly think appealing to that selfish, morally bankrupt man would be effective. I am sad, disappointed, and just plain tired.
I need some good news, so I call Cara to see if she wants to meet me for something this weekend.
She is leaving in less than a month. Apparently, she has been seeing Louis and things are going really well with them. I am surprised to hear it, Cara falls in love every single week, so the fact that this has lasted for a few is a new record.
We talk briefly and make plans, dinner with a lot of liquid courage and then dancing.
I get up and trudge my way to the tube to begin my journey home. I feel a pang of loneliness I can’t deny or ignore.
October 2, 2014
I haven’t seen Addie in days. I get into work early and leave early, too. I am fucking lucky my design is what won us the bid and is bringing all this money into the firm. It has bought me flexibility I need desperately right now.
Today however, is a rare day where I will work late. Kyle is on half term, meaning he is home and can relieve Mercy when she leaves at 5:30pm. It also means I have the chance to go out this weekend.
Louis is convinced I need a night of pretending we are twenty-two and maybe he’s not wrong. Addie’s disappearance has stressed me the fuck out. I can’t even ask anyone about it.
Matthew has been an even bigger douche than usual, and I’ve had to keep my distance from him to keep from saying or doing something I know I’ll regret. I still don’t know what happened between him and Addie, but he hasn’t said a word about her.
