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Finally standing still, she assumes her defensive posture, folding her arms across her chest and leaning backward. She doesn’t realize it, but that movement makes her boobs perk up, forming rounder and juicier curves. Damn!
“Look, Harry. I don’t know what you’re talking about . We’re friends, we talk and that’s cool. We are also co-workers and we’ve got to keep things professional at times. This right here, you blocking me, it’s not professional. Please let me go back to my office,” she says, avoiding my gaze.
I’m in total shock.
“So, what happened to all the times when you let me into your office and we talked about everything? How did that affect our professionalism in the workspace?” I’m speaking in the mildest tone I can unlock.
“Harrison, please stop making a big deal out of this. We have more serious issues at hand. This should be the least of your concerns right now,” she says and shifts her weight to her other leg.
“What concerns are you talking about? How does chatting with you stop me from holding this company up as CEO?” I ask.
She huffs. “The Garfield Hayes situation is the only thing everyone needs to be concerned with right now. That’s all. I’ve got to go.”
Just before I step aside and out of her way, I catch a glimpse of a strong wave of sadness flit across her face. Just for a moment. And then she’s gone, walking briskly toward the staircase and away from my line of sight.
I’m not happy with this new development. It feels like she’s punishing me for my inconsistency in the past. I know I haven’t exactly been the best version of myself, but Charlee knows how hard I’m trying. I’m trying to work on myself and shoulder everything a little more efficiently.
Why is she suddenly giving up on me?
I’m not sure what I was doing in the kitchenette a moment ago, but I’m back at my office, diving into work to sort through some investigative files.
The rest of the week flies through and has me feeling a lot worse than I ever have.
On Wednesday, I almost leave for work wearing two different shoes. Luckily, my gardener was around and he catches my slip-up.
I’m no longer sure how I’m supposed to schedule my activities. Which one should come first and what should I do before everything else? Is there anything I should unfailingly attend to? Why do I even have to make a schedule? It’s hard keeping track of the times and follow-ups. There’s a lot of them in one week. I don’t want the numbers and dates plastered in my head all day.
Eventually, I miss a routine dentist appointment and an urgent meeting with the Bridges legal team, and I take it out on my executive assistants. They reminded me several times, but it’s still their fault, somehow.
I’ve had problems with punctuality before, but not as bad as this, where I keep thinking work starts at eleven AM and not nine AM.
A couple of times, I’ve had someone bring my phone back to me from the bathroom. I left my backpack at the reception area and I found my official tablet in the office gym.
In a briefing with my father and Roscoe, Roscoe has to call me aside and scold me for speaking out of turn too many times. On my life, I have no idea that I’m actually doing that. My father makes a comment about me being insolent and not knowing when to keep quiet and listen, and I have to struggle with the embarrassment of being chided in front of Roscoe’s divisional heads.
It’s almost funny to me, how my entire coping mechanism is centered on one person.
When things weren’t real with her yet, I was doing reasonably okay.
When things were great with her, I was doing remarkably well.
Now that everything has gone to hell again, I’m worse off than I was before.
17
CHARLEE
Years ago, when the days would become so tough on me, I’d often pull up to Tess’s old tiny apartment, snuggle up in her pink wolf blanket, sip chocolate milk, and simply feel at ease. She didn’t always have all the answers, but talking to her in the comfort of that cozy apartment often made everything a little less difficult.
I love how getting married and becoming a mom hasn’t changed our friendship a lot, but things won’t always remain the same. Like right now, she’s got a weekend getaway planned with her family and it’s not the right time to call her and dump my endless huddles of problems on her.
So, here I am, taking an evening walk in the wind to clear my head. My emotions are all over the place. I’m pissed at something, angry at everything, infuriated at Harrison, and it’s all making my heart ache. Why am I even mad at him? I’m the one not telling him that he’s got a baby on the way. I’m the one I should be mad at.
But how much longer will my heart hurt like this?
My belly is not showing yet but the notorious pregnancy cravings are starting to come through in torrents.
I woke up at two AM this morning craving unripe papaya. Not just any kind of papaya. Those hard, green ones that come off with a crunch. It was an overwhelming urge. I felt my entire body straining and when I tried to eat something else, I threw it all up. It was pretty late and I’ve never been fond of going out past midnight in good old New York.
