The Waning Page 2

  I leaned down and grasped the mass of metal keys then snagged her ChapStick from against the baseboard. I scooped her purse up from the edge of the couch and gathered her glasses from the corner of the kitchen countertop. I opened her purse and slipped her glasses into the long side pocket, the ChapStick into the small zippered pocket. I folded the strap on top of the bag and set her keys on top in plain sight. She would curse me when she found them here.

  I smiled, thinking how cute she was when she was innocently frustrated, the way she pouted her lips without realizing it. If only that was the kind of frustration I elicited from her. Her frustration with me smoldered and brooded hot, embers I could see through her fair skin, heat that started to look more like hate by the day.

  “Is that dog on the couch?” I yelled down the hall, still smirking to myself.

  I heard her hushed whisper to McAllister then the clumsy sound of his limbs tumbling onto the floor.

  “No!” she shouted back. I could hear the giggle in her throat.

  Still slipping on the floor, I retrieved two coffee mugs from the cabinet and poured the potent black brew as the steam curled up in my face. I left two fingers at the top of her mug for her to adequately ruin the coffee with too much cream and sugar, until it was practically a melted milkshake.

  McAllister’s nails clipped on the hardwood as he followed her into the kitchen. Her rage had faded, for the moment, but probably only due to the seductive smell of her morning dose of caffeine. We were both saner after the first cup.

  She stood beside me, still in nothing but a large T-shirt and a pair of panties, looped her fingers through the handle of the mug, and leaned her hip against the counter. She stared at me in no particular way while she inhaled then drank from her cup. Then she finally looked to the door.

  “My keys!” she shouted.

  She stormed over to the neatly recomposed purse and seized them up to prove to herself that they were real. Then her shoulders slumped and her bottom lip puffed out as she furrowed her brow.

  It was still cute.

  “Where did you find them?” she asked me.

  “Under the rug in the hall.”

  “How the hell did I get them under there?”

  “My thought exactly.”

  She gave one more exasperated sigh then tossed the keys back down. They bounced from her purse and slid under the cabinet. I reached down and retrieved them again, holding them to her face dangled on my fingertip. She laughed and snatched them back.

  I let my hand slide up the back of her neck and pulled her face to mine. I kissed her slowly with purpose. Then, when I felt her body start to hint at a familiar rhythm, I punctuated with a small peck and stepped back.

  “Wish me luck,” I said.

  “Good luck.”

  “Bake me something good at the bakery today. We’ll celebrate tonight.”

  I slipped on my heels, gathered up my bags, and looked back at her.

  “Love you,” I said as the door closed behind me.

  I wish I had known that would be the last time I saw her.

  3

  “Congratulations, Ms. Zane!” Julie beamed from behind her desk in front of my office. She made sure to draw out the zzzzz in Ms. She didn’t want to get reamed for accidently saying Mrs., like Mark Walker’s assistant, Derek.

  She stood tightly with her toes together, stretching up with her excitement. Or at least her feigned excitement. Her lavender skirt suit was neatly pressed, just as I required in case a client might interact with her. She coiled her dark hair onto her head and slathered a moderate application of makeup under her thin glasses.

  I knew Julie gossiped with the other assistants about me. I knew she lamented my relentless demands and general cuntiness. However, if she had figured it out, she never advertised my lesbian disposition. I had no doubt she knew with Lei calling into the office, but she never asked. Without even my request, she kept it discreetly in my private life, and for that loyalty, I could forgive her healthy boss bashing.

  “Thank you, Julie,” I said as I walked past her into my office. I even let myself smile a little, genuinely.

  Julie swooped up my messages and a couple of files from her desk before chasing me and gently closing the door behind her.

  “Domestic Universe! Ms. Zane, this is huge!” Julie said.

  She was teetering between her heels, absolutely vibrating. Her smile was so wide it was spreading down into the tendons of her neck. She was practically hugging her handfuls of folders and papers. Inside, I was jumping up and down like a prepubescent girl and smiling shamelessly like Julie, but I took a deep breath and kept my composure.

  “I know, Julie. I know.”

  I couldn’t resist reflecting a little bit of her joy and smiling back at her. Maybe she thought her elation would earn her more favor. Maybe she was ecstatic at the idea of where my coattails would take her. Maybe she even was genuinely happy for me. For once, motive did not matter to me. I was euphoric with success and could share that bliss with just about anyone at that moment.

  “This is the biggest account the firm has ever landed,” she reminded me as she placed the stack of messages in my palm. “They’ll definitely make you partner this year.”

  I knew all this. All this was why this was the account. But it felt good to hear it again, out loud. I tried not to visibly bask in the sound of it.

  Fuck it. I had made it. I could enjoy it just a little.

  I gently placed my hand on Julie’s shoulder.

  “Thanks, Julie. You’ve been a great help through this.”

  Her jaw dropped open just a little before being pulled up into a coy smile. Apparently, I had succeeded in sounding sincere. She looked down and shuffled a bit, grinning to herself before she poised herself and snapped back into her role.

  “Thank you, Ms. Zane.” She hesitated briefly, seeming to take in the moment with a gentle grin on her lips. Then she caught herself. “Mrs. Johnston wants to see you.”

  “Excellent. Thanks again, Julie.”

  She smiled at me authentically one more time before she returned to her post outside my door.

  “Shut the door behind you, please,” I said.

  As I heard the latch click, I closed my eyes and breathed out. I let my composure collapse momentarily as elation washed over me beneath my skin. I had done it; I had actually made it.

  I melted into my high-backed chair and let my head rest against it. I could feel the smile stretching my cheeks. This degree of smile was reserved for Lei and unfathomable success. I opened my eyes and looked at my phone. My hand even twitched toward it.

  I should call her, I thought. I should tell her right now. I could tell her that I’ve made it, that I’m finally there. I’m in so deep that we can get married. Once I’m partner, I can get outed. I will have made them so much money and hooked so many fish that it won’t matter. Domestic Universe nullifies any homophobic bullshit. We can settle down. I can ride this success and stop slitting throats to get here. I let me fingers flirt with the receiver, imagining her blissful reception. Then reality sunk in. She will just say she’s heard this all before. She will just scoff in disbelief and frustration. She will suck the wind right out of my sails, deflate my excitement.

  It could wait until I got home, until I could convince her face to face.

  “Rebecca?” I called as I gently knocked on Mrs. Johnston’s open office door.

  “Beatrix!” she replied from her massive desk consumed by teetering stacks of papers and files. “Come on in. Shut that door.”

  Rebecca commanded attention, regardless of her surroundings or company. She had the striking beauty of an aged child television commercial actress combined with the ferocity of a hungry business woman. She could not disguise her full breasts under her professionally appropriate tailored suits. She let her toned calves ripple strikingly from above her statement heels. Her blonde, styled locks fell recklessly down her back with never a hair out of place. Her soft and flawless features hardene
d clearly into resolve.

  She was not one to be fucked with. She exploited her opposing qualities to her full advantage, strategically based on the situation. She was a ruthless role model. If she did not ignite my competitive need to succeed, I would have been wildly attracted to her.

  I straightened my posture and lifted my chest to match her domineering presence and firmly closed her door behind me. The smile was still present on my lips but subdued from blind euphoria to confident victory. I would not let her see how much this win meant to me; this was just what I did.

  “Have I ever told you that your name doesn’t fit you?” she said, settling into her chair. She sat up rigidly straight and folded her hands calmly on the desk, amidst the war field of papers.

  “More than once.” I faked a friendly laugh. In my head, I rolled my eyes.

  “Well, it doesn’t. Feel like I’m addressing my great aunt or something. Anyway, I wanted to congratulate you personally on Domestic Universe. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you what this means to the firm. And to your career. This is the account you needed to land partner and cement your future at this firm. Of course, nothing is official until year’s end, but I can safely say you’ve guaranteed yourself.”

  “Thank you, Rebecca. I really appreciate all of that. I have been working toward partner for a long time.”

  “Yes, I know. You’ve made it.”

  Hold the smile inside. Temper your excitement. Don’t break eye contact. Maintain composure.

  “What does this mean in the immediate?” I asked calmly.

  “You’ll manage the Domestic Universe account, obviously, as well as any accounts that come in as a direct result of it. When you transition to partner, we’ll transfer several account managers under your direction. Then there is, of course, the pay raise, the stock options, and all the other perks associated with partnership. I’m sure you’re familiar with all of these.”

  “Yes, of course. They’ve been a driving motivation.”

  “I figured. HR will go over all of the specifics with you when things become official.”

  “I understand.”

  “Good, good. For now, congratulations. Enjoy your victory. Celebrate. And keep up the good work.”

  “Thank you, Rebecca.”

  I stood slowly and extended my hand across her desk. She turned her head as she looked up at me and smiled out of one side of her mouth. Then she reached her hand to meet mine. Her skin felt smoother and warmer than I expected as it moved against my palm. I felt a slight tingle at the skin contact. I shook her hand firmly, then turned and stepped out of her office.

  As I passed through the doorway, I dropped my stance just slightly, settling back into my own, more natural posture. I felt just a little bit of the pressure and pretense recede. I marched down the hall back toward my own office.

  I had done it. I had made partner. After all those years of scratching and clawing, late nights, and Lei’s tears, I was finally here. I could have floated down the gray little hallway. The light spilling in from the offices became ethereal; colors became brighter. I felt the sheer bliss of success lifting my chest. I was probably grinning like an idiot, drunk on myself.

  Denise passed by me with a tight, forced smile. I caught myself in my euphoria and tugged myself back down into reality. I wiped the inebriated smirk off my mouth and tightened my face, raising a challenging eyebrow to her, establishing my dominance as usual.

  “Congratulations, Beatrix,” she muttered as she cast her eyes down.

  Three years ago, Denise had tried to plant malicious seeds of rumors about me with our manager. She whispered in his ear repeatedly how I was fraternizing with another associate in the company, breaking the non-fraternization clause in our employment contract. The deepest insult in this was probably that this associate was a male douche bag.

  I could have dispelled the rumor by coming out, but I would not give her the satisfaction of a scandal, of any potential advantage over me. I let her spin her bullshit and repaid her by fouling up her first major account and derailing her career.

  She had managed to not get fired for the debacle but spent the following years in mediocrity. I looked down my nose at her as I watched her run bitch errands for associates that used to be her equals. I sneered to myself while she was relegated to copyediting. I raised my eyebrow to her any time she dared make eye contact to remind her of who she was fucking with.

  I smirked to myself. Stupid bitch.

  The smile was back on my face, dripping with condescension and satisfaction. I felt her turn to watch me as I passed her and put some extra stomp in my heels.

  When my eyes focused ahead of me again, I saw Andrew making his way up the hall toward me. He didn’t even bother to fake a smile or force out words. He gave me a sideways glare then rolled his eyes with a huff and stiffened his stride. I’m pretty sure I heard “bitch” in his breathing.

  I had thrown him under the bus, let him think we were collaborating, then took the kill on the account. He was so young and green, so eager to work with me, trying to ride my coattails up the ranks. It was almost cute and endearing, but I could see the razors in his smile, sense the venom behind his empty compliments. When his nerves and inexperience tangled his tongue in the customer meeting, I stood up and eloquently owned the pitch we had developed. It got me a promotion; it was the first major step I needed.

  This building was full of people I stepped on to get here. Today, it was all worth it.

  I finished out my day in a haze. My mind continually circled back from storyboards and client calls and Domestic Universe contract review to Lei, to going home and telling her. She would make dinner, something homemade, complimented by something she had baked at work during the day. She always did, no matter how mad she was at me. I would play coy at first, making her extract the details from me, bit by bit, smiling and taking small bites of my food as I did it. She would puff out her bottom lip and pretend to stop talking to me. Then I would finally let her have it, calmly and smiling. She would believe me this time. She would be genuinely happy and tackle me amorously.

  These fantasies infected my day until the light breaking my window began to fade. I smiled at the impending sunset, shut down my computer, and gathered my things. I took my time with anxious fingers, savored the excitement I felt welling in my chest. I let myself imagine a genuine smile breaking her face once more and felt my own cheeks turn up.

  The office lights from the few still working spilled into the hallway, stretching out long over the flattened texture of thin, industrial carpet. I could still be working. I could always still be working, but tonight was hers. I took quick and measured steps until the hallway, the elevator, the lobby, and the large glass front doors passed over and behind me.

  In the parking lot, I was alone, away from the prying, ever-watching, judging eyes inside the office. I walked from the building across the parking lot, feeling my posture relax in the minutest, feeling the tight mask of my features loosen. By degrees, with each stride further from the door, I felt my professional personification fade and fold into the back of my mind. I found my heels dancing and clicking across the pavement, singing a rhythm as I hurried home to tell her. Now, we could finally breathe and settle. We could be that couple she wanted.

  The sun was retreating, leaving bloody streaks across the sky and clouds as the twilight muscled it below the horizon. I found a moment to look at it, a moment I never took any other night on my way home, a moment to appreciate the beauty in the way the day died, the way the sun finally submitted. I felt aware and undistracted in the attainment of my milestone. My eyes fully saw; my ears fully heard; my senses rose up to serve their base purposes. I actually saw the pine trees on the manicured medians, the nature forcibly juxtaposed in the lifeless glass and concrete. I breathed in deep and actually tasted the air.

  Yet, at the edge of this foreign, relaxed freedom, I felt a bristle. Something on the peripheral of my perception irritated me, unnerved me. I let my eyes scrutinize t
he unmoving cars and the vacant asphalt; I let my ears prick to the edge of my hearing. There was nothing, yet my skin tightened at the primal call of something unidentified within me. It was the same sensation as that of feeling watched. I felt it not at the input of my senses but in the pit of my stomach, in my guts.

  I did not have time to indulge wayward instincts. I told myself there was nothing there and brushed the apprehension coiling in my belly aside. My mind was overflowing with thoughts of what had passed in my day and what would pass in my night. Aside from a brief rapture in my surroundings, I did not exist in this present moment.

  My keys were in my hand, poised between my fingers and pointed at the ready, not out of fear but out of anticipation. I was already in that car driving home; I was already walking into her welcoming arms. My vision tunneled, and that poignant sunset around me collapsed. I ignored the world at my senses and fell into that moment.

  Then the world went black. The light swelled in my eyes then doused completely. I never heard You coming up behind me. I never had the chance to panic. I felt a tight embrace around my arms; I heard my keys hit the ground. My mind imploded on its own consciousness, tumbling into an abyss devoid of sight and sound. Before I could articulate what was happening to me, I was gone.

  4

  That leak was the first thing that finally roused me and introduced me to the headache splitting my skull and the bitter copper taste polluting my mouth. I woke up in that now familiar darkness with no idea where I was and no memory of how I got there. I opened my eyes to find my pupils and my mind reeling against a suffocating darkness.

  My awareness lagged behind my consciousness. Behind veiled eyelids, I had expected the soft light invading my bedroom; I had expected the gentle glow of the computer screen on my desk. I had expected some sort of familiar surroundings.

  Instead, the air was cold and thin. By just taking a breath, I knew I was not home. The foreign air tasted like fear, and I felt the feeling rage up in me in kind. As panic raced over my skin, my body came to life.