Page 27 of The Art of Being a Psychopath

I noticed he said us not me.

“I’m not engaging him. I won’t reply,” I stated.

“Why not?”

“Because he threatened me!”

“Rubbish,” Mr. Gold sneered, letting out a huff of ridicule. “You should be thankful you got a response. That article obviously hit the spot.”

“And the next spot to hit could be on my forehead, right between my eyes, if something isn’t done about this.”

Mr. Gold shook his head, and started tapping away at his keyboard, focusing solely on his computer screen. I thought maybe he was trying to locate some document online to assist me, or perhaps he was typing his own email out to H.R. to ask for their recommendations in the matter.

But then he said, “Just delete it, if it bothers you so much. Those creative types are always sensitive. So he saw a shitty review and wanted to take it out on someone. Big deal. It won’t amount to anything, though. Forget about it. I have.” And he carried on typing, his obvious disinterest telling me he clearly had no intention of helping me.

I sat for a moment in a daze, expecting something to change.

I don’t know why.

I should’ve expected this.

But when he announced, “I have work to do. Please leave my office.” I didn’t want to be there anymore, wasting my time. I wanted to be as far away from Stephen Gold as I could be.

So I stood up, feeling horrified by his complete lack of empathy, and at a loss for what else I could do. Then I turned and walked right out of there.

I wanted to slam his door, but I managed to restrain myself. I slammed it in my head, though. I did a lot of things in my head to quell my frustration.

Sitting back at my desk, I started to scowl at my screen.

Should I delete it?

Was it just a fragile ego lashing out, like Mr. Gold had said?

Would it all amount to nothing?

I should’ve passed the email on to H.R. or the IT department to look into, but part of me felt ashamed to share it with anyone.

Pondering what to do for the best, I hovered the cursor over the delete button, but clicking it was another thing entirely. And when it came to it, I couldn’t do it. I felt like I had to do something to put this right.

Perhaps Mr. Gold was right on one thing.

Maybe I should respond.

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Scam? Really?

Dear S.K.A.M.,

I know I’m probably the last person you want to hear from, but I had to respond to your email. I am so sorry that the article in our newspaper upset you, but I must stress that the article was not written by me. I know my name was attached to it, but I can assure you those are not my thoughts, opinions, or words.

I was honoured to witness your truly remarkable performance, and found the message you portrayed to be insightful, touching, and informative. I also saw the artwork you had on display in the gallery, and it was stunning. I informed some of the guests on the night that yours was my favourite piece. So, you see, I am actually a fan and admirer of your work and not a critic, as the newspaper article would have you believe.

Please accept my apologies for this mix-up.

I sincerely hope that in the future, I am fortunate enough to enjoy your work again.