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Arley
There aretypicallyonly two reasons people demand to see me at the office.
They either want something I won’t give them or don’t want what I’ve already given them.
No matter which way you spin it,I’mthe bad guy in the scenario.
The villain.
The scapegoat for every shit mood, shit paycheck, and shitty career stumble.
Do I like it?
Um…no.
My job is soul crushing enough without adding to it the weight that comes with my position. I know they say, “heavy is the head that wears the crown”, but that shit feels like the understatement of myentirecareer at Haworth Enterprises, the privately owned company which covers a multitude of avenues including but not limited to military, security, and biotechnology. From the moment I was hired for a lower-level analysis role, I continuously had responsibilities outside my paygrade thrown at me like confetti until one day – courtesy of my older brother Morris, the malpractice attorney – I had the guts to demand more.
More pay.
More vacation.
More titles.
All of which were given and haven’t stopped being given since.
I mean I could ask for a platinum collared pony at this point as well as a golden walled stable to keep it in and their response would simply be “male or female”?
Is that awesome?
To an extent, yeah.
But honestly, I’d take having a few decision-making jewels removed from the metaphorical crown over financial incentives any day.
Oh, and as for people demanding to see meoutsideof the office?
Only my family fits that bill.
Only my family haseverfit that bill.
Well…andSlater.
Though, I consider him family. And my family considers him family. And the imaginary family I envision us having together considers him family since in those delusions heistheir dad or grandad.
And of course, those aredelusions…
Very…vivid…delusions.
Very vivid, heart stopping delusions because Slater Wahl will never be more than my best friend.
My 6’2, built solid like his last name, angel food cake devouring, southern accented, could have any woman –or man– in the world without even trying, so why bother considering me for that position best friend.
I love the guy.
I’m kinda, sorta, a tiny bit in love with him too.
Ugh.
Fine.
