My gaze fell down to my trembling hands, desperately curling over the stalk of the empty Martini glass. Sarah was as silent as if she were dead, yet I could feel her feet bumping into mine under the table. Each time I'd exchange a gaze with her, she'd encourage me with her look to say something back to the poor chap. And eventually I did. I had to.
"I-I'm so very sorry, Mr Huttington. I should've explain it to you-"
"No need to force yourself now, Mrs Grady, when we're face-to-face. It's probably a lot more difficult for you." He wasn't in the mood for humour and neither was I. We're going to end this properly and appropriately, as real business partners do. I owed him at least that much.
"My behaviour was not on point, I admit. But if I'm to be honest tonight, I might as well confess I'm under the influence and do not know what I'm speaking of. And I'm a bit sleepy as well, therefore acting as a silly child. So treat me as such and forgive me." Even I was surprised at the well-put answer I had in store for the actor in front of me, whose lips were as still as a stone, but his eyes were cheerfully greeting mine. His dark blond hair was brushed in perfect amount of boyish curls; some of them even escaped on his forehead which made him come off like a lost boy even more. His grey, stylish tux and white shirt beneath, opened just for one button to unfold his chest, helped him fulfill the juvenile look he's been trying to achieve. And he indeed succeeded.
"You are forgiven, my lady," he made a jest about my language which was his speciality among theatre acting of his when performing Shakespeare's plays. I thought that kind of acting was the only one worth of its title. "Now, if you'd be so kind and generous, would you like to go outside and explain what's going on?"
Despite his charm and playful gaze just a moment ago, he wanted to get to the bottom of it. Only now I've come to realize how annoying and inconvenient that can appear now that someone was behaving alike me. I instantly started to despise him even more so.
I glanced back to Sarah for approval that was now supporting her head with her right palm, obviously bored by our small talk. She woke up once I bumped her leg and she gave me a dangerous gaze that served its purpose quite well. When she realized what the awkward silence was about, she just nodded automatically and smiled politely to the actor. We were both extremely embarrassed. I mean Mr Huttington and myself.
"Okay then." I wanted to move my chair so I would stand up as a proper lady, but Mr Huttington overhauled me and happily obliged to do it instead of me. Should have expected that from a man famous for his gentleman-like attitude.
It was nice bumping into someone who knows where their manners are from time to time. It was almost refreshing, I dare to day. But I still disliked him as much as I liked his little thoughtful gesture.
"Shall we?" He stretched out his arm to the direction where the exit doors were located. A smirk flashed my face against my will. He radiated some sort of positive energy even when he was pissed off that I could not resist. "Don't be silly," a voice inside my head said and it was right. I couldn't let him enchant me with his angel eyes and that grin of his that sends shivers down every girl's spine.
Now it was time to think of serious things. Things happening in reality and right now. The only thing I should be thinking of this moment should be coming up with a brilliant solution for how to slip away from this sticky situation in shortest time possible. I gulped, but stayed as strong as my knees would allow. To be honest, I haven't given much thought about explaining everything about my outburst to Mr Huttington. None, to be precise.
Once I stepped out that exit door as Mr Huttington happily held them for me, and once the cold air burst into my face, that was when I realized how serious this whole thing was. Letting Mr Huttington down with never-even-started interview, letting my former job, that was once upon a time my priority in life, crumble and having my hands tied, was the most uncomfortable position I was ever in, but I knew it's only for the best for my sake. Now I only had to figure out a way do decently approach this matter to my ex-client who was standing next to me outside the pub in freezing cold. At least he had a jacket; I was only appointed with my dark-coloured bolero that was barely covering my waist.
His strangely gleaming eyes were centred in mine, which made the whole situation a thousand times more awkward and inevitable. He was doing this on purpose, without doubt. I bet he knew very good what he does to women all over the world with that glance of his, little bastard.
"Here, have my jacket. You're trembling," he roughly interrupted the silence. It was actually very inconvenient since I was trying to come up with good excuse to justify my irresponsible actions in the near past.
"No, thank you. I'm fine." I tried to sound professional and steady, but the cold did get to me.
"Then I suggest you start talking before freezing to death."
I hated when people made jests like this. Thinking they're being really cool playing sneaky and evasive. I could tell him straight in the face that this position was, of course, not very comfortable for me as well, but I was short on time and ran out of creative comebacks, due to my blood being filled with alcohol from which I did not benefit from in any way when coming up with some sort of sufficient sentence to end it all here and now.
He started to sense the rising panic within me, so he offered to start the talking first. "I know it's really awkward for you and all, but you had to think once or twice about facing the consequences. What you'll have to say to me and at least making it look authentic enough to convince me it really wasn't your fault."
Somehow I had a feeling he seemed to know a lot more I'd expect him to. I pouted out my lips and narrowed my eyes to show my doubt and clear confusion, but he didn't get the signs. He just went on.
"Things like that happen a lot in the business. I understand that it was the first time for you and that you obviously weren't thoroughly and appropriately prepared so-"
"Why are you jumping to conclusions? Haven't you heard that's typical for mediocre people, which I'm sure is not what you think of yourself? You have no right to suspect anything, until you know the real facts of what happened." My voice was shaking and I was vulnerable. It was not in the least professional of me to say these things, but to hell with it. Since what I did to the company won't get me any recommendation whatsoever, it didn't really matter if I say everything that held me back so long.
Bewilderment flashed his angel eyes, his lips parted slowly. He surely did not expect that. I was fully aware that he actually has the right to suspect really anything, since he agreed to our offer and the terms including it. Acknowledging that, I sort of already prepared for a cruel victory from the actor's part.
"Trust me, I am fully aware of the necessary facts." His voice was pompous and in that moment I knew he was back to his old habits. Time to strike back.
"Then how come you come to me for explanation when you have all the sources you need yourself?"
"Every story has two sides," he replied shortly.
"I think you already know the side that matters, so what's the point?"
He seemed lost, like he ran out of words to speak.
"What's the point of keep digging into this when everything's long gone? Trying to bring something dead back to life is like watering a fake plant." I had no intentions of hurting that man, that's why I was being so rudely honest with him. I knew that was what he truly deserved and the only thing he needed.
"You're right, I do know the side that might matter to you," he said, looking back at me with his eyes widen. Why was he so into this thing? "But it doesn't matter to me, if it does not include the one that wrote the whole story."
With that, he shut me up. Why were we fighting over this? He should be at some party at the moment, not arguing with an average journalist about quitting her job. It all sounded way too surreal to be true.
"Why are you fighting with me over this? You might think you'll win, but the truth is nothing will change my mind. What's done is done, and what's in the past is in the past." I was getting desperate by now, my arms crossing over my chest to protect myself from sharp wind cutting my skin.
Mr Huttington stepped a bit closer, taking off his probably over thousand pounds worth jacket and spun it over my shoulders. I was very grateful for that gesture, but I refused it once again as he was trying to fully cover me in his outwear.
"Please, I'll never forgive myself if you'll get ill because of me." His voice turned soft and I felt safe under his short warm embrace.
That sounded rather intrusive, but I let him do it anyway. He seemed so eager about fulfilling his gentleman duties like it was a matter of life or death. He was, however, despite all his bad sides I discovered today, a good and fair man. I couldn't let myself do him wrong by refusing to give him a chance. He had the right to know what's up, but to be honest, I was afraid of his response or reaction. Would he be disappointed in me for failing or giving up? Will he try to convince me, but then come to realize there's no way of changing my mind, just proving my theory I confessed to him earlier? He was so bloody tall and his hair was waving perfectly that I even started trembling at the sight of him. Which sounded completely teenager-like and I was ashamed of my thoughts and could only thank god for not letting Mr Huttington hear them.
Right now, when I was standing so near him to feel his warm breath, life didn't seem at all so complicated as it really was. It was stupid of me to think a complete stranger could do things like that to me, but it was true. A real feeling I was experiencing. No matter how strange and odd it was, I was never the one for denying. More like hiding. But let's leave that. There was something about him and he did not drive his fans crazy over nothing. His posture was straight and proud, his chest wide and manly, when his face was as innocent and at the same time so attractive it could only belong to a fallen angel from heaven.
What was I even thinking? I left my thoughts somewhere on vacation and let warm, girly feelings overcome my being. No. That was not what I was trained in. I was a professional in hiding those feelings, stuffing them back inside where they belonged in hope they will never show up again. Because those emotions are never in use. They only expose you and make you feel vulnerable which you really don't need in this world full of hypocrites and hunters, only waiting for your fall. It often seemed like sometimes life intentionally threw you some of the little pieces of happiness and then also pieces of sadness and loneliness, until you realize this is what life is made of. What completes you. I was just unable to find any sense in that. Maybe that was my biggest fault, bigger than all the others I found so significant. Trying to find purpose in things that aren't made for making any sense, but to just letting them come in your life.
I wasn't afraid of admitting that I didn't get life and that it scared the hell out of me. What I was most afraid was what will happen next. After all the things we'll say tonight, after people will sleep it off and see things differently tomorrow when the day starts. What will they say about me? But then again, why was I bothering myself with that? Yet once I look it from another point of view, that's what I was used to. I lived off critics and people who gave some sort of opinion about me. Oscar Wilde once said that there's only one thing worse than being talked about and that is not being talked about at all. Behind my always optimistic attitude on point, this scared little girl was hiding behind me, her arms embracing her lap. She was frightened and she didn't know which way to turn.
"As the news is already familiar to you, I quitted my job today. Meaning my interview with you is also cancelled. Most likely never going to see the light of the day," I started after goosebumps somehow faded away. This was harder than I thought, minding the fact I haven't given it much attention except those past fifteen minutes which have been the most frightening moments of my life.
The way I started justifying my actions and taking responsibility for them wasn't a good start. Mr Huttington was well-known especially for his positivity and being an eternal optimist. That's why breaking the news (even if he was already aware of it) to him directly was so hard and uncomfortable as it was. He probably expected me to provide him with some potential proposals of how to carry out the interview anyway, since he said he likes those things to be done as they were meant to be done. But something was eating me inside. Being torn apart between following his intentions or break the bond forever. Now that I think about it the second option seemed more rational and reasonable thing to do. But was it really the right one?
"And what is in your intention to fix that?" he asked softly, speaking to me more in like father-daughter way.
"I think I'll have to disappoint you with that. You see, I don't think this interview has any potential whatsoever. Do not get me wrong; nothing is wrong with the person being interviewed," I laughed to hide my fear. "But something is very wrong with the interviewer, to be honest."
I ended the sentence with light sadness in my voice and sorrow filling my eyes. No matter how hard I tried, leaving this job that meant the world to me was really the hardest thing I've ever had to do. And I expected him to not understand at all, for his job was something he really liked to do and had zero chance of quitting from some bureaucratic reason that would eventually ruin his career.
"My publicist won't like that. Neither do I, in that matter."
My chest was ready to explode. I was only waiting for something like that to leave his mouth, any kind of trace of disappointment and disapproval that would crack me in two instantly. And that was definitely it. The moment of demolition of each fraction of morality and ethic still aggressively living within me.
"Things like that happen and sadly it happened to me. It's not like you're getting it any worse, it's me who ended up unemployed." My voice was as sharp as a knife, not minding to use any manners what was left of them.
He was about to speak but I cut him off. "There's nothing to be done. Anyway, I can't make this happen on my own. I started this still fully employed and equipped with necessary material to make this happen. I cannot continue completely on my own, with no protection, any label to publish it under and to be honest, a bad reputation."
Reflection in his eyes made me believe the last bit of hope inside him died with this sentence. My head hurt really bad by now and I knew this wasn't going to end up well. But he insisted and he is, in spite everything, a famous actor which I cannot just simply refuse. Nothing made sense any more, the words were getting mixed up in my head and my vision was getting blurry. The whole reality seemed hazy and too bad to be true. I was not ready to swallow yet another disappointment in my life, being unemployed and eventually homeless. Did I really have it coming? Social suicide, not to mention complete disgrace in front of a million-dollar man? Let's just say this kind of ending of my career as a potential journalist was at the bottom of my list.
"We can fix all that, you know. Everything's possible if you just have a little bit of hope," he said tenderly.
"And thousand pounds," I finished his sentence.
His chuckle wasn't as nervous or tense as mine always came out. His foolish grin had me smiling as well, not knowing I was doing it myself.
"So you're not denying it? See, just another reason why this mission is really impossible."
"I'm not saying it's not true, but it can happen anyway. Maybe with a little bit of help, but the main thing, writing, is up to you and you know it," he replied.
"I'm sorry, but I would like to step out of this little game of yours. I can't do it. I don't even know why you're trying to make this happen more than I do, it's completely unnecessary and hopeless."
Before he answered once again to my pessimistic rhetorical question, he took in a deep breath. His hands came out of his trouser pockets and he placed them both on his hips.
"Because you have to keep fighting. I know life sometimes kicks you right in the arse and you might think nothing makes sense any more. But right in that moment you have to give your best. You have to collect each piece of energy you have left to succeed. That's the whole secret."
I was fed up with his eccentric bullshit by now and I've had enough. It was my decision, my call to end it any time I wanted to. I think he didn't realize how important this was also to me and how hard to choose to say goodbye to it all. He had his perfect job and perfect life, he knew shit about the real situation I was dealing with. I had a gut feeling about this ending this way. Maybe not so hostilely (at least in my mind), but he knew what he was dealing with when he chose to talk to me about this vulnerable thing in my most fragile state. Or maybe, just maybe, he was doing it all on purpose.
"Let me tell you one thing," I pointed my right index finger at him. I started to feel alcohol mixing and confusing my head, but I had to continue for both of our sakes. "You don't know absolutely anything about what I'm dealing with. Save yourself time and try not to pretend like you do. I believe you have all sorts of things you should be dealing with as we speak, not arguing with me."
My thoughts were so loud I couldn't hear my mouth. But once I came to realize what I've actually just said, my eyes were instantly filled with regret. It didn't work. The puppy eyes, I mean.
Hurtful, weak smile flashed his face. First I thought he was hurt and I felt bad for what I said. But once he spoke again I knew it was no mistake I said the things needed to be said.
"Save yourself time and start living the life you want to."
With those words he turned (by the way sneaking his jacket off my shoulders) and disappeared. He left me all alone in the sharp, still winter cold with my emotions and words. What I did was not at all professional and by all means not all right. I was sure he was as not hurt as he tried to show. He just made the performance to make me feel bad and he succeeded. He was an actor, for god's sake. I shouldn't expect any less of him.
I didn't burden myself with thinking if he returned back to the pub or vanished completely. All I could do was stand there, leaning on the wall of black bricks in the back of the bar, thinking of the possible consequences most likely to happen. Did I just screw up my biggest recommendation I could ever hope to get? My hands were shaking, different thoughts rambling through my head. Pictures of several variations of how my once promising career was about to end. And it seemed the only lifeline was now long lost and gone.
Few weeks have passed. Spring has progressed slowly, though my position has not changed since the incident. Thankfully there were still some simple jobs at disposal, not requiring any specific skills. Sometimes I forgot how lucky I was I got this job. We only learn what we had once it's gone. But that wasn't entirely true for me. I was already aware of how precious and valuable this place was, and how promising for me for the future. It's almost funny how it can all vanish in a matter of seconds. Of simple, plain words leaving somebody's mouth. Deciding about your next few months.
After the night out with Sarah I decided to start over. Maybe it was not the best decision I've made in my life, but the only one keeping me alive at that moment, for a start. It was a good start. So far I knew that well that I needed one; a clean slate. Not only with people around me but with myself as well.
The best I could find was service at Chen Soso's. The restaurant had quite a reputation, a good one. It was mostly known for the best choice for celebrities picking a place to eat in peace. Why, you ask. Well, probably because it's on top of a building with only sky above it. No paparazzis are allowed, they make sure of that rather thoroughly. It is, of course as it is expected from a luxurious restaurant, expensive and even I was wondering how I got so lucky. But since I started to learn how to appreciate things from the start and not waste my time questioning it, I just went with it. It never crossed my mind that something awfully embarrassing would ever happen to me here, thinking it's the safest place for me to withdraw from all the drama which is constantly being a loyal friend of mine. You couldn't blame me for making that choice, now could you?
Chen Sosa was quite a man, if I may add. To finally make things clear once and for all, I was not a person without any experiences whatsoever that just happened to get a well-enough paid job in a matter of couple of weeks. I realise lots of people would think of this as injustice or that I got this job righteously. Before I made my way to people like Mr Chapple (and, well, Mr Sosa as well, in that matter), I was just as meek and degraded as any recent graduate. Having my weak spots at disposal, letting every and each person know it's my first time in the real world. My mother had me working at some Inn in the neighbourhood and I had, in a way, no other option than to cook and do other household work as it was asked of me. I couldn't really complain, now could I? Though I am quite thankful for the experiences I gained from that and if I had another chance to relive it... I don't think I would do it any other way.
Since it was a beautiful Monday morning, we were expecting rather large number of guests and their guests, but to my surprise (and probably the whole staff's as well), not so many did show up as usual. That meant less labour for me. Though work was successfully distracting me from my latest dose of drama and I certainly was not ready for another one.
Chen Sosa was a man of honour and justice, he made that quite clear. He was not a tyrant, far from that. Maybe a mild despot with sharp mind. It was actually expected of him to be cruel to us, as they so proudly show in many films. The poor degraded workers waiting for boss's command. I didn't see it that way, to be honest. It was overall a new experience for me, hoping it'd be a good one.
"Where is everyone? We usually accept over twenty people by this hour," a voice whispered behind my shoulder.
It was Tanya, a Ukrainian tall dark-haired woman with heterochromia which she distinguished in. Her sharp Russian accent almost scared me a bit. I guess it has become a habit of mine to be automatically afraid of unfamiliar voices coming from behind.
"I know right? That seems rather suspicious. Is there something going on in the city?"
"Not that I'm aware of it," she said confusingly. Her curious colourful eyes were wandering around the place. "I'm sure I would be informed about it." Her familiar soft giggle followed.
"What was Chen's reaction to the empty hall? I'm sure he wasn't pleased." I ended the sentence with slight humour, trying to make the situation a bit less terrifying. I knew from the start I probably won't succeed.
"He took it quite all right. He just yelled for twenty minutes at almost half of the staff. You're lucky you weren't in there."
"Have you suffered with them?" Another attempted funny joke.
"Thankfully, no. But his majestic voice does spread miles around. I even got to catch some of his juicy Chinese curse words. I tell you they were-"
"Probably what you'll be haring next if you don't shut up this minute and get to work." Both Tayna and I trembled as our eyes took in the full sight of the infamous chef in front of us.
It was like one of those moments in elementary school when you used to be frightened right to the bones if the teacher caught you chatting. It was similar, except if I was caught back I'd still have a roof under my head. Now there's no joking around. Even if I was so free only two months ago to let myself cross many limits with my boss, my position here couldn't even dare to compare with the one I had at The Weekly Traveller's. I knew where my place was, even if this time it wasn't among the top five.
"I'm-I'm so sorry, Mr Sosa. It won't happen again, I swear." I could see Tanya's knee shake during the time she was speaking to the boss.
"I know it won't, because next time it does, you'll be off to somewhere else. Same to you, young lady." His narrow eyes turned to me. I gulped at the dead-serious expression on his face. "If I ever caught you two chatting and wandering about again..." He ended the sentence with deadly voice and it seemed more than sufficient replacement of the part of the sentence missing to me.
Tanya and I both nodded at his eyes jumping from hers to mine. He dismissed us and went away as soon as he made sure we were scared to death. And he succeeded.
"That was intense!" Tanya laughed with ease, now that the big man was gone.
"Please, just give me a minute to let that sink in," I jested, but my voice was still quiet and tense.
A smirk flashed Tanya's thin lips and in that moment I realised yet another reason why I should never have befriended her. She was literally a magnet for troubles. But I kind of liked it. I wished I could see the world through her eyes, since she seems so carefree all the time. I know people have all sorts of issues and we never know what's happening inside one's home. But I think her everlasting optimism and thrill to search for adventures do give me some kind of new aspect on life. Certain things require that. And only a few people can offer you that sort of comfort.
Thinking of how Tanya played a big role in my current state of life, my thoughts wandered to Sarah. I still kept in touch with her, regardless of what happened. Meaning leaving her all alone and to herself that night when Mr Huttington dragged me out. She kind of held a grudge for a few weeks, but then quitted due to her very wise realisation that it leaded nowhere.
They both seemed to be equally supportive and kind to what I've been through and I think I've never felt more accepted in my entire life. Some people think you make the best friends in the early years of your life, but to be honest, I think years don't matter. What matters is when you find yourself for then is when you're capable of making true friends. Until then you only live in a shadow of a person you wish to be. And we all know there's no use in that.
It was now the middle of April, and it was all the same once again. I believe we all relieved a tiny bit, since most of us thought this was the end for all. I might just could have been.
I was washing the dishes at the back of the restaurant, when Tanya broke in the small room where I was working at the moment. She seemed a bit breathless for a moment, but soon she pulled back her old, mischievous expression.
"You won't believe this," she breathed as she moved to the counter across the room to rest. Her grin never left her lips.
"At the moment, judging your suspicious expression, I don't think I even want to know what you have up the sleeve."
"I'm sure you'll love this."
The way she stressed out the 'love' word gave me shivers right down my spine. I had a very good excuse for that.
"The last time someone told me that it didn't end up quite well," I replied. She didn't seem to have change her mood. Oh she was indeed up to no good. And this time, I wished to have no part in it. Not only because I was afraid of that inhumanely tall Asian guy, but because I wanted to avoid drama as much as I could. Though life so far hasn't spared me a bit in that part.
After I washed and cleaned the last dish in the sink and put everything on its place (Tanya sure waited until the end to make sure I'd devote her my full attention), she began to speak.
"During my ten-minute break, I slipped into Mr Sosa's office." I felt anger bursting inside me, all set to explode any time, but Tanya soon expertly cut me off as it was her undeniable wont. "Before you start judging and nagging all the way, let me first assure you that it was for a good cause."
I hardly believed those words, but then again – I also knew Tanya was good at heart. That didn't mean I trusted her like I used to trust people. It meant I knew her and she knew me. And we both agreed that was enough. She did choose a good timing, though. Mr Sosa was gone for some personal time-off and his assistant, who also happened to be his sister, lead the business while he was away.
"I'm sure," I answered. "Please, continue."
"I had a feeling something stinks once the staff started to notice there are not as many people as we're used to. We even noticed ourselves. I had to check for myself what all the fuss is about."
After she ended the sentence, an uncomfortable silence filled the air. I sensed a slight bit of tension mixing with it, but I had no reason whatsoever to be nervous about anything. Right?
"I haven't found anything on the mysterious mass disappearance, but I have found this under his desk," he said as silently as possible and handed me a piece of paper. Once I took a better look at it, I saw it was bound with a paper clip that held together exactly three papers. I started flipping the sides and taking a quick look at it, but saw nothing too suspicious to justify Tanya's weird excitement.
"There's nothing suspicious to be found," I broke the silence after a while. She didn't seem pleased.
"Well take a better look at it," she kept on going.
I knew I wouldn't win the quarrel if it were to happen, so I just went on and followed her instructions. This time I gave it a better look. It was only after a few seconds I saw a sentence that probably influenced on my mood and also my future more than anything ever has. Among other business-related things, something caught my eye very fast indeed. I had to reread the same part of the text three times before realizing it's actually true.
Dearest Chen
We both know it's been quite a long time since we last saw each other. I miss you very dearly. Things have been … Rather strange lately, but in a very good way! I've done several projects of which I'm sure you've heard of, with many various artists as well. But something always seems to be missing. You, my dear friend.
I wish to see you again as soon as possible, when both of our jobs will allow it. That is why I have a special favour to ask of you. I met this wonderful, utterly fascinating man, Archie Autenberry. We instantly fell in love; you know me. Silly old lady, twice divorced and with three all grown-up selfish children fighting for inheritance. With him I realized the meaning of life and I want to spend the rest of it with him. Oh, how silly of me. Please excuse me. I won't bother you any longer with mistakes I've made in the past, so let me just get to the point of this letter. I need you and only you to support the wedding and supply your finest creations to the (probably) event of the year for me. I know this might sound a bit foolish of me, but I trust you, meaning no one of my children will even dare to bribe you to lace the food or wine with poison.
Love and happiness has finally entered my life, after so many years. After so many years of torture and pain, I've finally learned to appreciate life again. And it feels too precious to let it slip by. Not even now. I would be forever grateful if you would do me the honour and bring some of your best caterers with you and make this wedding the most memorable events of all time.
I also think I ought to inform you, many famous guests will be invited to the wedding, including, already familiar young lad to you, Tim Huttington. He is my eldest daughter's "current" partner and she insisted on bringing him with her. What choice did I have?
Thank you for your perpetual kindness, benevolence and generosity accompanying you with every step you take. I will be forever grateful for all the kind things you've done for me, during my dark era. I cannot repay you, ever.
With love,
Samantha Patmore
With the last words finishing the letter, I immediately thought of crumpling the letter I was holding, but then a very wise thought came to my mind – this is still Mr Sosa's property and if he noticed a slight curve that was not a consequence of his own palms, I'm positive he'd give the whole room slaughtered.
"Is that... Isn't this-"
"Yep." Tanya interrupted.
"But how-"
"Don't know. Been trying to figure out that one, but I seem to be out of luck. Chen is a very mysterious man, you see. He's hard to read. Even for me."
My mind went somewhere else the moment I've come to realize I'm doomed. I tried to evaluate all the possibilities and most-likely-to-happen scenarios and in general just what to do with myself. To be honest, I knew Mr Sosa would never pick neither of us before his excellent cooks and assistants. He would never give us that much pleasure. He always made sure he kept reminding us who's in charge here. And he did a very good job in that.
"I don't think he'll pick us, you know. I mean there are so many others..." I said after a while.
"Yeah, he's probably most likely going to pick Susan or Bren. They're both almost overqualified, in that matter. But they're the best professionals he's got. If he takes them, he'd still have the second assistant to leave in charge and a bunch of labourers to do the hard work and waiters."
Tanya made quite a good point. The only thing left bothering me was that Mr Sosa knew. He knew all about Mr Huttington's and my little scandal we caused. An outrage, a fiasco. Total disgrace to the company. He accepted my request under one condition. To have my spirit cleaned. I guess the guy followed his own personal mantra, though I'd never say he's a soft little religious guy beneath his majestic armour of fat.
"But what if he'd pick me just to torture me? What if he would do all of this to force me to atone for my sins?"
"Then you're not going alone," Tanya optimistically replied to a rhetorical question, but I'm glad she did so. She friendly tapped my shoulder as she escorted me out of the place. Before she spoke again, she made sure no one was around to hear us.
"I'll stand by you, even if times get hard. You know I'm here for you. I hope you know that."
"Of course I do," I replied as if it was something completely natural to have someone say that to you. But once I thought about it, besides having Sarah, I don't recall anyone devoting me such kind words.
"Look at me," she stopped at once and took both of my shoulders in her hands. "You need to realize that. Not because you mustn't take me for granted, but also because you need to know there are people who would fight for and with you. You mustn't let that Asian man beat you at that. Or the fancy one, doesn't make a difference. You have to accept that fact so you could feel more confident in your skin. Because you deserve that for your own good."
Maybe I did take her and her loyalty as a friend for granted. Also Sarah's, if I'm completely honest. I didn't comprehend the idea of someone putting so much effort and trust in me that I eventually thought of myself as unworthy of anyone's attention or affection. Not to mention love.
"I really appreciate that, Tanya. I admit I needed some sort of comfort or assurance that somebody's got my back. I just feel so weak and exposed all the time," I said gently.
"It's okay to feel like that from time to time. But more important from acknowledging that, is that you know you have someone you can trust. For trust is not a sign of weakness. It's a sign of mental strength and power. Once you accept that about yourself, no one can harm you. Remember that."
With that she finished with her little spirit-lifting speech, took me by the hand and dragged me to the terrace of the building. It had ten floors and the view was more than magnificent. It gave you wings. An ability to even reconsider your entire life and decide on some life-depending choices you may never conclude under other circumstances. It was one hell of a view, I tell you that.
"It's more peaceful here, that's all," Tanya explained the dragging across the dining hall.
After that neither spoke anything for the next fifteen minutes. We both enjoyed the slow sunset, saying its last goodbye to the city. To the city we both admired, loved and despised and hated at the same time. None of us possessed the knowledge of how is that possible.
The graceful silence could have continued if the woman in charge, as we called her since we refused to call her boss, hadn't interrupted us during our mental meditation and yelled us for slacking off. She even threatened with telling Mr Sosa about that little incident. Once we turned around to face her with our boring expressions, her seeming courage vanished in a glimpse.
We returned to our work premises and continued without talking. Not because of the woman in charge, but because the silence we shared at the terrace gave us both a lot to think about. I didn't have a clue about what might have ran through Tanya's head, but I'm sure she spoke from experience back then. Someone had to suffer through quite a lot to have such wisdom caring around in the world and sharing it among others. I knew I was pretty lucky to have run across such person as her. Our little friendship might seemed as if I broke all of my connections with Sarah, but only now I've realized how important relationships within a company are. How you are always able to maintain them and taking care of them, when making friends outside your job or meeting a random stranger and still keeping in touch with them is actually quite a challenge.
Even if this job wasn't really my dream job and not even close to what I would like to do for the next thirty years, I was determined to keep this one even if just for a little while longer. I wanted to keep in touch with the people here and the pay check was firm as well. I wasn't ready to abandon yet another promising job due to my lack of professional behaviour. I wasn't ready for another painful and shameful walk through thousands of memories.
A/N: I am extremely sorry for the delay or posting rather rarely lately, but things have been rushing up so fast. I am quite happy, though, to see I've managed to write off this one pretty well. I'd appreciate some opinions :)
Till the next time...