To Play the Fool
PART FOUR
Chapter Thirty-One
I woke up in a cold sweat an hour before my alarm went off. For a moment, I panicked, thinking I was back in the cave, but then I recognized the framed cross-stitch rose on the wall and I remembered that Imogen was in the room next to mine. Instead of trying to go back to sleep, I pulled my knees up under my chin and stared at the wall. Two weeks of therapy and drugs and the nightmares still wouldn't go away. I'd have to convince the doctors to give me some sleeping pills in addition to the cocktail they were already prescribing me.
Soon after I got out of the hospital, Imogen had me move into her apartment. It's not like I would have stayed in my place after what happened anyway. Jackie and Dad did all of the moving for me while I watched them, trying to remember when I had bought or accumulated all of this stuff. Imogen has been quite patient with me and the rest of my family. Mom stayed with me for the first week before I sent her home. As for Jackie, she sometimes sleeps on the floor next to my bed. She's keeping the other apartment until the lease is up, which is where she stays most nights.
No use trying to get more sleep. I got out of bed and started getting ready for work. One thing Jervis Tetch did for me was make me appreciate showers a whole lot more. I went to the bathroom to take a quick shower, letting the hot water ease the knots in my muscles I had developed overnight. Then I started some oatmeal on the stove, dried my hair, and went to my room to go get dressed. I was confused as to which door was mine, left or right, but picked the right one at the last second, which also happened to be correct. My navy blue skirt and blazer, a white blouse, and black pumps were already set out for me so I wouldn't have to worry about picking out what I was going to wear.
I worked on a preliminary schedule for Mr. Wayne while I was eating my breakfast. We would have get him caught up after I had been gone for so long. Businesses can rarely be paused for so long. Mrs. Miller had covered for me, but her schedule wasn't as efficient or effective as mine had been. I couldn't blame her, though. The break from work and school had been nice, but I needed to find something to occupy my mind. My homework was already caught up since I had so much downtime at the hospital and at home.
Despite my efforts to keep quiet, Imogen was still roused from sleep. She dragged herself into the kitchen in her pajamas, her hair resembling a haystack. "Nightmares?"
"I've had plenty of sleep. I just need to be awake."
She sat down at the table. "Same dream?"
"It's not really a dream anymore. It's more like this oppressive presence that sits on my chest. Even when I wake up, it's still there."
"Maybe today isn't a good day to go back to work."
"It's Monday. Today's a perfect day to go back to work." I finished off the last bite of my oatmeal, took my bowl to the sink, and went to my room to finish getting ready.
"You know you're over an hour early," Imogen told me as I was brushing my teeth.
"I've got a lot to catch up on."
"I'm worried about you."
"Don't be. Wayne Enterprises is my second home. I'll be fine."
On my way to the office, I bought a coffee, taking a little more time in the tiny shop than I normally would. Mostly because the barista recognized me. "Jenny, you're finally back! I'll have your usual ready in just a second."
"Actually, can you make it a triple?"
"Sure can! Coming right up." I'm not really sure if Becky is chipper because that's just how she is, or if she's sampling too much of the merchandise. Either way, we exchanged a few friendly words, catching up on the latest events in our life. Her children were terrors as always, but she loved them. I had nothing new to report, even though I could tell she was desperate to hear how I was doing in therapy. I paid for my coffee, left her a generous tip, and walked to work. Didn't want to be too early.
I was all alone in the elevator as I was still quite early. It took about thirty to forty-five seconds to get to the top floor, but I swear it took longer. The air was cold like I was stuck in an ice-box, and the ceiling felt much lower than normal. Then the doors dinged and let me out into my office. I made a mental note to take the stairs down.
The office was silent when I got in. This was normal as I was often much earlier than everyone else. What wasn't normal was how much I hated it. The hollowness in the air created a pit of dread in my stomach. I do my best work in silence and solitude. It's not like me to fear it. Jervis Tetch, it's all his fault. He turned one of my strengths into a weakness, one that I can't afford.
I set my stuff on my desk, finished off my coffee sat down, turned on my computer, and started sorting through the mess of Mr. Wayne's appointments. How does someone who comes in so late managed to get this much done? Three meetings today, one was a lunch meeting, and a handful of contracts needed to be signed. I wrote a few emails to a few departments in the building, then went downstairs to Archives to pick up some material Mr. Wayne would need to know.
Archives was a cold, dry place to begin with, but as I plunged into the rows upon rows of filing cabinets, I felt a cold finger trail up my spine, sending shivers all through my body. I found the research and reports I needed, double checking that they were the right ones at least three times. I had this secondary, legitimate fear of handing over the wrong files and having to come back down here. Once I found the right files, I practically ran out of there back to civilization.
When I got back upstairs, taking the stairs this time, the office was coming to life. People were coming in, passing me, and saying my name. "Hi Jenny." "Hey Jenny." "How's it going, Jenny?" I returned their token greetings with one of my own, but my mind barely registered their faces. Every one of them had a job to do anyway, so they couldn't spend time with me. "Good to have you back, Jenny."
"Good to be back."
I started reading through the research, summarizing the summaries for Mr. Wayne to glance at and seem knowledgeable. Research on cancer therapies, experiments on light-based circuitry that uses photons instead of electrons, and VTOL capable aircraft. All incredibly fascinating stuff that I could get lost in for hours and distract me from the pitying glances my coworkers were giving me when they thought I wasn't looking. I wasn't mad at them for their silence. I wouldn't have any idea how to talk to a traumatized me either. If only we could all pretend that nothing ever happened, that I was on vacation for a few weeks.
Right around noon, a green ceramic flowerpot landed on my desk, filled with daisies. "Daisies?"
"I know you don't like flowers at work," said Bruce Wayne, preparing for a backlash, "but I thought, given the circumstances –"
"You got me daisies." My face and mood brightened instantly. "How did you know they're my favorite?"
He took off his coat and set it on the chair in front of my desk. "Well, of all the paintings in my home, you seemed to like the daisies most of all. Then I called Jackie just to make sure."
I laughed at that. "Thank you. I love them."
He gave me a smile. "Glad to have you back."
"Good. You're meeting with the board in five minutes to discuss whether you're going to continue developing Hexocline. It seems to work okay on certain types of pancreatic cancer, does wonders on gout." I handed him the file and my notes. "Then you have lunch with Environmental Energy Solutions."
"Great." He took the file and disappeared into his office. Then I hung up his coat and got back to work.
The last couple of weeks had not been as terrible as they could have been. Starting from the night the two of us were admitted to Gotham General, him for electrical burns and me for … other things, Mr. Wayne always found a reason to stop by and visit. Just to say hello, see how I was doing. It got to the point that I could predict when he would come around, usually around 11:30 just before he went to work. Mom liked him and often found a use for him when she was there. Lots of jars needed opening. Dad didn't care much for him, but respected him for helping me out of the cave. Imogen loved him, but more often than not was at work when he came by. Jackie, as far as I could tell, was avoiding him. Of course, she was avoiding everyone lately, even me.
Right after Mr. Wayne's meeting, the two of us drove to the Criterion restaurant for his meeting. By that, I mean that he drove us in his Lamborghini Aventador instead of having a company driver take us. I did have to raise an eyebrow at that.
"What?" Mr. Wayne said as he opened my door.
"You're showing off, aren't you."
"Who would I be showing off for? It's sports car. It's not going to kill you."
"No, but I've heard about how you drive." I sat down in the cool leather seat and entrusted my life to Mr. Wayne.
The lunch crowd at the Criterion was much thinner than the dinner crowd, but there were still plenty of people. Our party was waiting for us at one of the center tables. Yes, we were twenty minutes late. It bugged me, but it was supposed to throw them off balance a bit. Ms. Pamela Isley seemed to just take it in stride, but the twitch in her eyes and lips said that she wasn't happy about it. "Mr. Wayne, I'm glad you could come. This is my assistant, David Hume." She gestured to a scrawny boy at her side.
He shook the ginger, crimson-lipped woman's perfectly manicured hand. "Nice to meet you, Ms. Isley. Let's get started."
We sat down at the table and ordered lunch from Jackie who happened to be working today. She flashed me a quick smile, but that was the only hint of recognition she gave. I was grateful for it, though. My name had been all over the news and Ms. Isley didn't need to recognize me. I guess that's why Mr. Wayne didn't introduce me either. I ordered something small that I didn't intend to eat.
Ms. Isley's company, Environmental Energy Solutions, or EES, was all about investing in new green technologies and recycling everything. The research Wayne Enterprises had done in photon memory boards intrigued her as it presented an opportunity for the electronics industry to use something other than electricity. "Imagine the possibilities, Mr. Wayne," she exclaimed. "No more toxic electronics poisoning the landfills in China. No more dependance on coal-created electricity. This will revolutionize the digital world."
"I was more concerned with the way it will change computing power, but I can see why you might be interested."
"Interested? Mr. Wayne, I am excited. The world has no idea how much damage their computers and cellphones and iPads are doing to the earth every time they throw one away to get the latest model."
I may have hidden my smartphone under the table at that remark. Mr. Wayne barely stifled a yawn at her never-ending environmentalist agenda pushing. "You have to understand, all of this is still in the development stages. We're still doing the research on these South American beetles."
"The beetles have shells with a crystalline structure that traps certain photons which give them their brilliant colors," I stepped in to explain. "We're still working on creating our own structures to do the same thing."
"Perhaps we can pool our resources," Ms. Isley continued. "This is a project EES would be greatly interested in advancing. It's fascinating that it takes some creature from the earth to give us the technology to save it."
"Fascinating indeed," Mr. Wayne murmured.
Ms. Isley's assistant whispered something in her ear. "I apologize, but something has come up, and I must be on my way." She and Mr. Wayne stood to shake hands. "I hope we can continue our conversation at another time."
"We'll be in touch," I assured her as I wrote down David's number in a notebook.
Even though they were gone, Mr. Wayne had no intention of leaving just yet. "What did you think of them?"
"She's honest, and earnest," I replied candidly. "Perhaps not the best combination."
"Oh? How so?" I got the impression that he already knew the answer, but was hoping I had come to the same conclusion.
"EES has been under investigation several times in the past on suspicion of funding environmental terrorist organizations, but all charges were dropped or settled out of court. In the end, it seems like they were just allegations, nothing substantial. But the fact that they keep getting investigated makes me think otherwise."
"It would make a businessman nervous."
"The spin their PR went with was, 'Big Government just hates Green Companies.' Their ad campaign makes them out to be victims, and it's resonated with the public. It could be something Wayne Enterprises could afford to ride the coattails of."
"Do you buy it?"
"After meeting Ms. Isley, I would not be surprised if the officials' suspicions are valid."
"Okay, then. We'll play this one by ear." He noticed me moving the food around on my plate. "Are you alright? You haven't eaten a thing."
I shrugged, but avoided his eyes. "Not that hungry."
"You haven't been sleeping either." He turned his chair to me when I gave him a look of disbelief. "Six cups of coffee is hard not to notice."
My fork clattered onto my plate and I sat back in my chair. "It has become difficult to sleep without sleeping pills," I sighed.
"Nightmares again? I know you don't like talking about them, but I'm worried about you." He touched my arm for a second, but I pulled my hand away into my lap.
"I can do my job," I snapped. "I am perfectly capable –"
"Oh, I know. Gotham could be in flames and you would have everything under control. The point is, I don't think you're as well as you think you are."
"I'm fine. I've had plenty of time to recover. I'll catch a cab back to the office." I threw my napkin onto the table, grabbed my briefcase, and started to walk out of the restaurant.
That's when I passed Jackie taking dishes off one of the tables. I don't know if it was the sight of Jackie in her uniform or the location of the table or the bowl of soup Jackie was clearing away or a combination of the three, but memories came pouring in of the terrible date with James. I could feel every painful, awkward moment, the soup hitting my dress. Then I could smell all those flowers, and gunpowder. Brains and blood on my face. Rocks. Cold, hard rocks. Then water, everywhere, suffocating and crushing my chest.
"Jenny!" Bruce's insistent voice pulled me out of the confines of my memories. It could also have been him grabbing me by my arms and shaking me out of my stupor.
I could barely breathe and my head was feeling light. My vision was narrow and my feet were unsteady as blood pounded so hard through my veins. My chest felt like it was going to burst. The physical symptoms of a panic attack were overwhelming, but the terror was far more omnipresent. Terror of being alone, fear of being locked in a dark room, horror at being left in silence.
"Employee washroom in the back." Jackie's voice broke through my thoughts for a moment before my briefcase was taken out of my hand.
I was vaguely aware of Bruce leading my feet into the back of the restaurant, through a noisy kitchen, and into a white tiled bathroom. He had me sit down in the corner, then wet a handkerchief in the sink to cool down my flushed face. I tried to curl into a fetal position, bending my knees up to my chin and using my hands to pull my head down.
"It's going to be okay, Jenny." Bruce pulled my hands away and just held them tight. "I'm right here."
"I know. I just ..." Can't form sentences anymore.
Bruce sat on the ground and held me in his arms while I tried my best to slow down my heartbeat and hyperventilating. Breathe in. Breathe out. I don't know how long the two of us sat there. Long enough that we probably missed his next meeting. I'm sure he was just fine with that. The only thing that kept me sane in that room was knowing that he was right there. Right there, he's always right there. He hasn't left me alone since I got out of that cave.
I took in a shaky breath. "I hate this. I hate feeling so weak." Bruce wisely didn't respond. "I never know when these panic attacks are going to hit, and I hate them. I'm not supposed to be scared."
"Everyone gets scared, Jenny. Even me."
"I've helped Dad take down serial killers and art thieves just fine before."
"You planned on them, and you dad was right behind you."
"Why can't I just pretend this didn't happen?" I moaned. "It worked just fine for Jackie."
Bruce shook his head. "You can't. It's a part of you now. You can either let Jervis Tetch keep controlling you, or you can own your fear. Knowing you, Tetch doesn't stand a chance."
I ran my hands through my hair, shaking it out, and Bruce absentmindedly straightened it. "Why are you so nice to me, Bruce?"
"Because I'm a nice guy?"
"I mean it. You keep checking up on me and spending time with me when you don't have to, and for the first time in my life, it hasn't been annoying me that someone won't leave me alone. In fact, I'm glad that it's you."
We were quiet for a few more moments as what I said sunk in for both of us. "Do you want to see more of me?"
I sucked in a tight breath. To be honest, the thought of starting a relationship with anyone, even him, made my fists tighten again. I didn't want to say no because I did like it when we were just friends instead of co-workers, but I didn't know what to say.
Fortunately Mr. Wayne, or Bruce, I suppose, noticed my tension. "You only have to commit to a couple hours every now and again. And I fully understand if you want to leave things as they are."
"Why don't we start with lunch," I said abruptly, "on a day that isn't today."
"I think that can be arranged," he said with a relieved chuckle. "I have to warn you, it can be dangerous to date a celebrity," he said.
"More than the Mad Hatter?"
"The tabloids will tear you apart."
"Already got that when Jackie went missing."
"I forgot about that. So … how's tomorrow looking?"
"Like I've got plenty of time for Cafe Rio."
He took my hand in his, our finger interlacing perfectly. It just felt so safe. "Then it's a date."