Death of Me

07. MAYA BENNETT

Which one do I choose?

I stare at the two chic tops on my bed. I hate many things but top of the list is planning outfits. But I don’t mind planning today. For some reason, I feel chirpy and I am in the mood to dress up.

Okay, I know the reason.

He is 6’1 — I think — with dark eyes and wavy hair. 

I giggle to myself. Last night had felt like a scene off a movie and I cannot help but replay that stormy evening in my mind. Mr Wheeler had been my unexpected knight in shining armour. And he looked the part too, with his dark stare and that almost kiss.

Don't think about it, Maya!

I shake myself and choose one of the tops, the pink one. Being an assistant to the boss is more work than I envisioned. I have to do much more than look pretty. I help prepare his presentations and take on any leftover duties from his secretary.

Easy peasy... at least it should be, except on days when my boss takes a cup of grumpiness for breakfast.

I dress up and walk off to the kitchen to make breakfast. I woke two hours earlier to prepare, but I had gotten too much shampoo in my hair and spent minutes washing it off. I boil some eggs and set out the cereal and cereal bowls for breakfast. I am about to grab the milk when I see the time.

Shit!

I call a cab and head out. Tucking his umbrella under my arm so I don't forget it. On my way to work, I gaze at the road leading to Mr Wheeler’s ranch. I try to imagine what his house looks like. Images of all the expensive houses I've ever seen on the internet come to the fore of my thoughts, but none of them seem right.
When we reach the office block, I stop at a café for a box of cookies. It's my most affordable way of saying ‘thanks for bailing me out yesterday.’

At work, I march to his office but find it locked.

“He’s not in?” I turn to his secretary.

“Does it look like he is?” she retorts and returns to her computer.

Who spit in your coffee, sis?

I'm dying to ask her, but that'd lead to more drama. Instead, I trace my way to my office and settle on my chair, making a mental note to hop in his office for a visit the second he arrives. Until then, I have a lot of work to do.

By mid-day, I have cleared the paperwork on my desk, and even started work on one of his presentations. And that was when it hit me: he hasn't arrived yet.

I glance at my watch, a frown on my face as I watch it tick away. He was supposed to meet with a new client this morning but it is already some minutes to one.

What if the secretary lied and he's been in his office all along?

It doesn't feel right, but it's worth verifying. I jump up and make my way towards his office. As I approach his door, I hear Calla's voice behind me.

“Hey! Did you hear about the boss?”

Her question stops me in my tracks. “No. What happened?”

“I heard he called in sick.”

“What?”

“That's how I reacted too.” Calla laughs, “It's so unusual. He never calls in sick, right?”

“He doesn’t?”

“Oh,”  She smacks her forehead. “I keep forgetting you’re new here.”

Our conversation is interrupted by a coworker I haven't been introduced to yet. Her name tag reads ‘Nelly'. I think she works for the CFO of the company.