Talk To Me

18 || Showdown

WARNING: Unsettling scenes ahead; proceed reading at your own risk.

Today was the day. The Day. I was going to go for it. Carry out A.A.A., without the most important piece. And if things screwed up royally and shit hit the fan, so be it. I didn't care. Because I'd decided to follow the advice of one extremely unqualified and psychotic therapist: you want something, go get it. It's simple as that.

I wanted something. I was going to go get it.

Simple. Fucking simple.

Interestingly enough, the day seemed to fly by fast. Work hours were more hectic than usual; there were tons of meetings to go to, I barely spent a second at my desk, I was basically running through hallways behind Adrian barking into his Bluetooth and going into conference rooms, running to the cafeteria and bringing him cups of coffee while he listened and spoke and nodded his way through presentations, handling his phone calls and bringing him papers and agreements to sign. He wasn't focused on me at all today; he didn't have the time. But I looked at him every time I could. I drank in his sight. The big, powerful and obnoxious boss. Striding around his empire, boasting his confidence and wealth. Probably, for the last time.

In the midst of it all, a problem I'd nearly forgotten all about appeared at my elbow just when I was about to go inside conference room no.3 balancing three cups of coffee very unsteadily on a cardboard tray with my right hand and holding onto Adrian's phone and a bunch of files with my left hand.

"Hey, Harper!" Ugh, that voice. I quickly fixed a hesitant smile onto my face as I tried to turn around.

"Hey, Zach," I said and I hoped he would take the hint by seeing the pile of shit I was carrying on my arms but no, of course he didn't.

"Listen, I barely had the chance to talk to you yesterday," he said and thank god, he took the coffee tray out of my hand as he stared eagerly at me. I stretched out my crooked arm in relief, shaking off the pins and needles. "You want to go out this evening?"

Fuck, couldn't he just—alacazam, and disappear?

"Oh, I'd love to," I lied, in my best crooning voice. I wished Adrian would wonder what the fuck was taking me so long and yell out my name so I could dash into the room and escape this awkward pain in the ass. But Adrian was deep in the middle of some speech; if I was hearing right through the door, he was currently yelling at someone for messing up some contract. Well. That would take a while. "But I don't think I should, today...I mean...I'm not feeling well. It's...you know..." I let my blushing do the rest and hoped that the topic of Time of the Month would have the same effect on Zach as it did on all men: stunning them into awkward silence and running away.

Although, if he was Zach the King, he'd lower his voice and leer, "ah, glad to know the protection worked, sweetheart."

Fuck. Would he say that? Oh god please don't say that.

Thankfully, he didn't. Instead, he reddened slightly, eyes widening as he started nodding rapidly, like his spine was a spring. "Oh, yeah yeah, that's okay, that's cool—uh, hope you feel better. Call me tonight?"

"Definitely." I beamed at him and took back the coffee tray from out of his hands and mentally wished him a hearty fuck-you before entering the conference room.

Adrian was still ranting his head off to a red-faced employee who was trying to squirm into his seat and disappear. I quietly walked over, invisible to everyone, and placed the coffees and the files on the table before retreating to my spot in the corner of the room. And there I watched Adrian. My father. My Dad. Exuding confidence and being the best, angriest boss he could be. I wish I could tell him to enjoy this; to enjoy every last minute of this yelling, paper-signing, and general bossing around at his great big luxurious company, Wallerstein Tech, because he'll never get to do it again. Never.