Suited and booted

Chapter 7*

"Leave me alone your perv" i shout, at him as he gets in my face, pushing me backward against the wall of the bullring. Everyone seems shocked. Little does he know he doesn't scare me, I raise my hand and go to slap him but then I realise, if I do slap him it won't just be me that it affects it will be the whole firm especially if he presses charges. "Come on kitten, tell me your name?" He asks, still pushing me against the wall.

"Tiffany Victoria Specter" my dad says, walking round the corner. "Perfect timing" I reply, rolling my eyes and shoving whatever he's called. "Specter?" He says, kinda trembling, I laugh as he's realised his mistake. "Doug my office. NOW" my father yells, all the other associates look worried.

10 mins later...
I'm sat in my dads office, beside him at his desk while Doug is in front of us. "Sexual harassment in this office is despicable however sexually harassing my own daughter is damn right disgusting, so your fired" he yells. He looks at me "any words to add Tiffany?" He says turning to me. I smirk thinking about what to say, but I already know what to say. "Get ready to get your ass whopped in court, I'm pressing charges" i hiss, smirking as I finish my sentence. "See you in court, sex offender" i hiss, he stands up and leaves the room. "I think I handled that well" I snarl, standing up. "Jesus it's 2 o'clock already" my dad says, i shrug unbothered. "Might not have time to go get lunch before we go sorry tiffy" he says. I nod, to be fair I didn't really want to go out for lunch, but i agreed because I didn't eat yesterday night and he would be pissed if he found out. "Go grab your coat and we will head out, might be able to grab a takeout on the way" he explains, i nod and leave his office to go and retrieve my coat from mine. I grab my blazer that was perfectly hung up in one of the cabinets, sling it over my shoulder and go leave my office. Taking notice that the cleaner was no longer there and the floor was sparkling clean, the only thing left behind was the envelope and card which I had opened and slapped on the desk. I pick it up and slide it inside the lockable draw just underneath the desk top. Right next to the other one, I had a bad feeling that these 2 Tiffany blue envelopes were the first of many and that made me feel very sick. I shake of the feeling and head out, heading to my fathers office, before heading down to reception to meet Ray.

"Ready?" My father asks, as I step into his office, I noticed a whisky decanter and whisky glass out on the sideboard. I didn't want to say anything, but I can tell he's nervous, I think he thinks I have relapsed, to be fair I'm not sure whether I have or I haven't, but we will find out today I guess. I nod in answer, he smiles but nervously and opens the door for us, I walk out and he follows, it's silent all the way to the lift and even in the lift. It's not awkward silence, it's anxious silence, both of us are internally panicking not ready to hear what the doctors have to say about what I'm pretty sure is my relapse, which I have worked so hard to not have. But I let it slip, I let myself slip and now I'm not perfect. I think my father blames himself for my eating disorder but I don't blame him, or my grandmother, I blame myself for being so stupid and letting my self not be perfect by making my self Ill. I'm mad at myself for upsetting my father, at the end of the day he's the only family I have. As I'm deep in thought the lift doors open with a ding and we step out, into the hustling bustling lobby filled with employees all coming back to the office after their lunch hours. Trying to navigate our way through the crowd isn't easy but we do it and meet Ray at the front of the office.

"Mr specter, miss specter" he says, opening the car door for us to slide in. He then closes the door behind me. I definitely feel sick, I think I'm going to hurl, I haven't felt this sick since I first got diagnosed and threw up everything I ate. 7 years I have tried to make myself better and today we are finding out if all that hard work was all for nothing. I can't help but feel guilty, what if I get sick again like I did before, no I can't let myself, I can't do that to the only family member I have that cares. The thing about my family is my grandmother is basically dead to both me and my dad aka we don't speak to her, haven't in 10 years. My grandfather died a year after I was born, so I have no memories of him, only a gold bracelet he gave me when I was born. And my mother, that's a story for another day, but to put it in more easy terms I don't have a mother, she's not even on my birth certificate. Ok so looking at it from a scientifically point of view, i obviously have a mother/ birth giver because you know it takes two to tango but in the eyes of the law my mother abandoned me. No before you think it, I'm not adopted, the whole story about my mother is for another day.

I can feel my stomach doing flips, like I have just swallowed 10 butterflies and they are flying around trying to get out of my stomach. As he starts by asking me to step on a scale next to the window. I can feel my stomach doing flips, the acid sloshing about inside, burning me from the inside out. He reads the number that comes up on his phone from the scale, I don't see this number, never will in fact as it could put me back in my recovery. I can feel my lungs heaving, I'm terrified what if I get sectioned, then I have to leave my father again, plus I want to go to silver stone. I quietly glance, toward my father sat in the corner, looking quite solemn. When suddenly his phone rings, he scrambles through his blazer pocket, stares at the screen and then heads outside the door after excusing himself.

15 mins later...
My dads still outside still on what I'm guessing is the phone, when the doctor turns to me saying "we will just wait for your father, before we tell you the news". My stomach lurches and I feel violently sick almost like when I threw everything up before when I was diagnosed. The waiting is killing me...