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Just then, my phone rang. It was Laura.
"Hey,” she said.
"Hey," I replied back.
"Are you okay? You sound down," she implored.
I wondered how she caught my mood without being physically present.
"I'm confused, Laura. It feels like I am running from responsibility," I said.
"No, you aren't. Do you want to come over?" she asked.
"No, Laura, I’m fine. I’ll see you later tonight, okay?" I said as I ended the call.
I stood up, determined to go back to work. I needed to hear whatever it was, and running now just made it so much worse.
I got in the car and started to head back to the mansion and my boss's office. I needed to hear what was in stock for me before I disputed it, right? And no matter what it was, I had decided that I would always think about my loved ones first.
"Sit down, Anthony," my boss stated as I entered his office, his voice stern and commanding. His eyes bore into me, and I couldn't help but feel a tinge of anxiety ripple through my body. I slowly made my way over to the chair in front of him, and I noticed how the hardened expression on his face. But my boss wasn't the type one could easily read. There was no difference between his expression when he was angry or pleased. As I settled into the chair, I resisted the urge to squirm under his intense gaze. Instead, I maintained eye contact with him, bracing myself for whatever was to come.
"When you approached me a few years ago, I saw a fire in your eyes—a determination to make something of yourself. And you've done just that. You've been careful and calculated, and it hasn't gone unnoticed. I've kept you on board all this time because you've proven yourself to be quite worthy," he said, his words punctuated by the soft sound of his cigar lighting up.
I still was not sure what direction this conversation was taking, but it was starting to become quite unusual, whatever it was. James being nowhere to be seen made it even weirder. Whatever it was, it must be significant. As my boss took a puff of his cigar, I contemplated what was in store for me.
"James has made it clear that I could entrust you with a task now, which is high praise from him because that boy has more trust issues than anyone I know," he chuckled and took another puff of his cigar, this time deeper—his face a blank stare as he slowly exhaled. It almost looked like there was some sort of emptiness to him.
"I have a minor task for you to carry out tomorrow," he finally spoke.
"Sir—" I started to say before he abruptly interrupted me.
"Anthony, don’t you know who I am?!" he shouted.
His once relaxed demeanor had turned into something entirely different. The corners of his mouth twisted into a sneer, and his words sent chills down my spine.
"I never take ‘no’ for an answer,'' he said, conveying a threat.
Then his face relaxed and he chuckled again.
"See you tomorrow, Anthony. You can leave early today."
I could feel the sweat on my palms as I clenched my fists, trying to keep my composure. I knew that there was no way to argue with my boss, no way to plead my case. He was the type of man who always got what he wanted and had made it clear that I was no exception. As he dismissed me with a curt nod, I turned on my heel and quickly made my way out of his office, my mind racing with anger and frustration.
I got back in my car and sat there for a while, my fists still balled up tightly. I felt so powerless. My mind wandered back to the woman on the street I had seen being harassed by a group of thugs. For years, I had prided myself on my independence and my ability to make my own decisions and live my life on my own terms. But in confronting the boss, I realized just how little control I actually had.
I knew I needed an outlet for my anger, a way to blow off some steam before it consumed me. So, I let out a deep sigh and drove to my gym. When I arrived, I changed, headed directly to the boxing ring, slipped on a pair of gloves, and stepped onto the mat. As I began to throw punches at the bag in front of me, my mind started to clear, my frustration slowly melting away with each strike. It was just me and the bag, a simple physical outlet for all the emotions that were coursing through my body.
My phone rang, suddenly pulling me out of my physical exertion. As I stepped down from the ring to answer, exhaustion came pouring into my body. My arms and legs felt like they were about to give in, and I staggered towards my phone.
An unfamiliar number flashed on the screen. I hesitated to answer, but, thinking it might be work-related or maybe another problem at Amanda’s school, I decided to take the call. I immediately regretted that decision, though, when I heard the voice on the other end of the line.
“Hey, hon! How’ve you been?”
"Christine? What the hell?!" I barked. Just when I thought my day couldn't get any worse.
"I'm sorry, I just needed to tell you something, girlfriend," she said in a strange, syrupy voice.
"Whatever this is about, I DON’T CARE!” I replied angrily. I looked around the gym and was grateful for the lack of people there at that moment. "Look, Christine—" She cut me off.
