Bereft (Seven Year Itch #2)(2)
When I got home at night, I wanted to kick back in pajama pants and relax while he got into projects, like painting, or jogging on the treadmill. He never seemed tired, like an energizer bunny with unlimited batteries. I read in bed until I fell asleep, most of the time having a Kindle hit me in the face when my lids closed before I could tuck it away.
Anyway, back to the reason for me being bitter. I’d received an email regarding a possible downsize. Employees weren’t supposed to know about the owner’s health taking a turn for the worst. The eighty year old man had battled cancer twice, and if you asked me, his body was tired of the struggle.
With that being said, everyone knew his grandson, Chad would eventually take over the company. His plans for a new future involved a ton of outsourcing. In fact, there were rumors he wanted to do away with the office and work off a remote server with minimal need for most of the people who worked there.
This would be the day where many of my coworkers discovered they’d lost their positions. I wasn’t too concerned about mine. I’d been there since I was nineteen, and gained a repertoire with the family. There was no way they’d kick me to the curb without prior notification. Aside from my husband, the owner was someone who cared for me. It wasn’t in a romantic way. I’d like to think he considered me a daughter. His Christmas gifts were always lavish, and I’d been invited to attend family events for years.
His grandson, on the other hand, was a little prick. Sure, he had a body that wouldn’t quit. It was obvious he spent most of his time at the gym, possibly beefing up with illegal injections of God only knows what. His eyes, a hazel in color, were constantly staring me down, and making me feel uncomfortable. He was like a dog on the prowl, and I was just a MILF, someone he fantasized f*cking over his desk just to brag that it happened. Every week he’d storm into the office like he owned the place with a new bimbo attached to his hip. It made me want to gag, while his grandfather stated he was on his way to becoming a successful man, whatever that implied. Even though he’d attended college, I found him uneducated, or for a lack of better terms, worthless. If he was the last man on earth I still wouldn’t stoop to his level, not even blindfolded, or blind in general. I was positive his brain was located at the tip of his penis, deprived of air, and suffocating in whoever he was nailing at the time.
Yeah, you could say I was resentful. Maybe a little.
Some of us have to work our asses off, while others are handed the silver cup. Life isn’t fair, but us peons have to make it work.
Though the idea of being one of the only people left to work at his side, I knew I’d bite my tongue and make it productive. Besides, he’d need someone to show him the ropes when his grandfather could no longer manage. I wasn’t hoping for a promotion; I was happy with my salary. I’d worked my way up in the company like everyone else. I didn’t require special attention, especially when I knew it would cause my associates to question why they weren’t being treated the same way. My boss Charles Farrow was a kind soul. He’d developed his company from the bottom up, investing most of his time into creating a reputable business.
Most people wouldn’t understand how hard we worked for our clients, but in personal management, running an agency, nothing was considered too much. We went above and beyond, and carried a reputation to prove it. I was proud to tell people who I worked for and more to the point, which clients we represented.
Major corporations contacted us on a daily basis. I was there when we transitioned from landlines to mobile devices. I’d been an intern when the company went digital with their records. When PowerPoint became a thing, I was the person who taught upper management how to operate the software. My dedication had helped impact our future. We were able to keep up with the changing times, and offer the best degree of services because of it.
I was getting worked up over nothing, yet I couldn’t stop pondering on my achievements, as if I was silently telling myself not to worry. It would have been nice to speak to Grayson about it, but I didn’t want to alarm him for no reason. It was just another day at the office. Besides, I couldn’t even recall the last time we’d had a serious conversation. It made me wonder what I could do to rectify the situation. I missed him – needed him even. He was my other half, my partner in life; it was important he knew what was going on with me. If anyone could calm me down, it was him.
My journey to the office only left me more concerned. I thought about the whispers I’d heard going on; the secret upper management meetings which lasted into the night. Then there were the conference calls where no one was invited except the owner’s grandson.
Right before I was about to step off the train, I heard the alarms sounding. I was too familiar with what it meant. Someone had jumped onto the tracks to commit suicide, or possibly been murdered.
Talk about a Monday from Hell.
The doors remained shut and someone got on the intercom to make us aware of the situation. Luckily, I’d been early enough to score a seat, otherwise I’d be standing, waiting impatiently for emergency crews to arrive to cleanup and secure the area.
I blew a loose strand of hair out of my face, feeling annoyed I’d tied it up and it hadn’t even lasted until I reached work. I thought about my pores, and how big they’d look after I had to haul ass a few blocks to make it to my morning meeting on time.
The longer I sat there waiting, the more I knew I was going to have to make a call into the office. I pulled out my cell phone and scrolled through my contacts, finally coming to the operator at the front desk. After a few seconds a cheerful voice filled the line. “Good morning, Leviathan Agency, how may I direct your call?”