Superficial (DE)

Forty-four.

"Cerise Marie!" Michael said through clenched teeth as he followed her into her office at his firm, closing the door roughly behind him as if she were a little girl living at home again. "Have you lost your God damn mind??"

"Daddy—,"

"No— you listen!" Michael said aggressively, pointing his finger at her. "How dare you disobey me! Do you know how you just made me look?"

Cerise furrowed her brows, taken aback.

"You have my last name— my reputation is on the line Cerise! And you go behind my back and do the one thing I told you not to!"

Cerise stood with her arms crossed across her chest, looking everywhere but at her father as he scolded her— feeling like reprimanded child.

"You stroll in LATE with that purple suit on like this is some type of fashion show— you are making me look bad. I want you off that case— now,"

"What— no, you can't make me drop a case. Daddy why won't you let me do my job— I can do this!" Cerise defended, her voice raising a few octaves.

"No, you can't—,"

"Why daddy!— give me one good reason why? Daddy I can do this—,"

"You are embarrassing me Cerise," Michael said through clenched teeth. "Those people almost ate you alive as soon as you came down those steps. I said you are not ready. You're my daughter and you're going to do what I told you to or you won't have a position at this firm anymore," Michael threatened.

"So you're going to fire me?" Cerise astounded. "Daddy are you serious?"

"As a heart attack," Michael gritted, snatching the door open and storming out.

Cerise twisted her lips to the side, abruptly sitting up and grabbing the tanning oil that sat on an end table beside her, trying to keep from crying. It seemed as though no matter what she did or thought about, she'd some how end up trapped in her own mind again quickly becoming consumed by the madness that encompassed her life like quick sand. The deeper in thought she got, the deeper she sank, and it was quick too and unforgiving.

She squeezed some of the oil into the palm of her hand before rubbing it all over her body, in circular motions around her stomach and atop her breasts then down her extremities. The oil was thick and warm and smelled like coconuts and gave her already bronzy skin a gilded glow. She laid back down, squinting her eyes up at the sky, watching the pillowy clouds slowly float by.

It was the hottest day of the year so far and living on the top floor of a fifty story building, she decided to take advantage of that. Plus, she needed to get out of the penthouse before she lost her everlasting mind. Cerise was now condemned to the penthouse just as Brandon was, terrified she'd be recognized and mauled by journalists and reporters if she stuck even just a toe outside of the fortified building.

The local news had been in a frenzy. The actual crimes committed and the charges being brought against all the defendants in the case wasn't even getting as much attention as the conspiracy around the attack on her father. The whole situation felt like something out of a sick Tyler Perry film.

No sleep was had last night, atleast not by Cerise. Between her fathers affair, the case, Lorenzo, the baby, Brandon and him leaving in the middle of the night last night, she'd quite literally been staring at the inside of her eye lids for hours on end. She didn't say a word when she felt Brandon get up, or when his side of the bed dipped when he finally returned an hour later, nor had she said anything to him this morning.