Bed of Lies (ON HOLD)

XIV

From early experience and previously acquired knowledge, I have come to dread surprises. There is something about not knowing that unsettles me. An unknown number appearing on my phone is a surprise, and at first, maybe also second glance, I wouldn't necessarily say a good one.

Drawing in enough breaths to balloon out my lungs and restore blood flow to my extremities, I drag the message open. It's only a text, and I'm glad that it is so. If the alert had been one of a phone call, there is no way I would have answered. I've had enough dealings with solicitors and fraudsters to last a lifetime.

"Hello Clara, it's Walter. Sending a message first, so you know to pick up later on. I'll be calling you in a few minutes." I read silently, flinching at the reference to me as Clara. I won't ever get used to that name. Strangely, he guessed right about me not receiving a random number's call if there was not a text sent first.

My head begins to wobble as I ponder on how he could have gotten my number. Was it through Tony? The answer is the only plausible one, yet almost impossible when I think of the cross man I left at home.

Less than five minutes afterwards, my phone rings. It's the same number. I slide the answer button to the right. "Hello," he doesn't speak first; I do. "Walter?"

"Hey Clara," his voice is so much deeper than I've ever regarded it to be. For some reason, it sends not entirely execrable shivers down my spine. Stop.

"What a surprise. I was previously thinking of how to get your number. Ha." I throw in a fake laugh that should not be awkward but ends up being so.

"Why do you have to think of how to get my contact?" He chuckles softly. What a pleasant sound. What is wrong with you, Cara? "You could have asked Tony for it."

"Yeah, I should have." I try my best not to sound glum. To the world, Tony and I are alright, doing okay, perfectly happy. "So, how did you get my number?"

Papers rustle in the background before he answers, "Tony sent it to me. Said there was something you wanted to talk to me about."

"Oh," that is scarily nice of him. I muse to myself.  "It's rather fortuitous that he did."

"Are you alone?" He asks, and I search around me. It appears that I am alone, but I suddenly feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on an end—as if a warning that someone invisible, hidden from my watch, is monitoring me.

"I believe so. Why do you ask?"

"Nothing important. Tony said you weren't at home over thirty minutes ago, so I was wondering if you were back home." Then you should have asked, 'are you home yet' instead of putting me on edge, I want to say. I don't. It would do me no good to nettle the one I need a favour from.

"I'm not home yet."

"Alright. So what did you need to talk to me about?"

"A job. I want a job in the digital marketing section of the company."

"Hmm." He murmurs thoughtfully. "You know you could ask for a bigger position, right?"

"Maybe, except the marketing department is where I want to work. It is where I have most of my experience, and I'd prefer to work where I'm comfortable."

"That's reasonable enough. Your decision makes better sense to me now. Alright then. I will send you an email to which you will need to submit your resume and CV. I'll make sure you get the job, of course. But I think it'll put you at ease if we go through most of the usual procedures."

Frankly, I could not care less. I want the job, and all that matters is the end result, not the methods or means by which it is achieved. Moreover, since I have the plus of being the CEO's wife, why shouldn't I use all the privileges I have, including influencing decisions from the outside before stepping in the company? I can't tell Walter how I truly feel, of course. It'd be stupid to let him know that the CEO's wife has that sort of mindset. Then again, it wouldn't exactly matter. I don't think I want to care.