Being the Boss

22

Mary fingered the necklace than hung around her neck. It was much heavier than the silver and diamonds that composed it. In fact, it was almost suffocating her. She listened to the phone ring and prayed that it went to voicemail. Mary didn't know what she would do if he answered. The heavens heard her prayers and after a few seconds, the call didn't go though.

"Hey, it's me," Mary began, not knowing what she was going to say, "Look, I know you probably hate me right now, but I'm sorry. Okay? I really am. We need to talk about this. Meet me at my apartment at five if you can. Alright?"

After she hung up, Mary turned in her seat and mused at what had become of her life. Five years ago, she would have laughed if someone had told her that the struggling scrap of a company would soon be worth billions. Five months ago, she wouldn't have dreamed that she would still be duking it out with the Knightly's. She didn't even know that he had a son, let alone one that she would pretend to be friends with in order to gain control of him and his family.

Mary's train of thought derailed as she began to think solely about Johnathan. The first time they met, she didn't even allow herself to think of him as a person, just as a transaction. She was the buyer, he was the good, she had a demand, he was providing the supply. He was insignificant to her life until he waltz in and made himself the center of the universe. She thought about his eyes, the way he made her feel whenever they were near each other, and she couldn't deny that she felt something. Maybe in a past life, they would've been together, or at least real friends. But the only thing linking Mary to Johnathan was her want of power and a web of deceit.

Work dredged on until she called it quits for the day. Mary strolled down to Agnes's office and sat across from her. She opened her mouth to speak, only to close it again.

Agnes looked away from her computer screen, "Are you okay?" she asked, pursing her lips slightly.

"What happens if this all backfires? What will I have?" Mary asked, getting up to being pacing the room.

"So you came here to pace?" Agnes joked.

Mary blew a heavy breath, "No I did not come here to pace. I just," she began, cutting her sentence short as she ran her fingers through her ponytail. "I don't know."

Agnes's eyes trailed her friend's body. She smiled, knowing that Mary was caught up in her head, again. Whenever this happened, she tended to have an overly critical eye on every aspect of her life. And Agnes could tell this was just one of those days.

"Sit Mary, pacing won't help you," she said in a tender voice.

Mary came to a stop in front of the seat that stood opposite of Agnes's desks and gripped the ends until her knuckles turned white, "It helps me think," Mary mumbled in defense.

Agnes rolled her eyes, "What's really got you worked up? Be honest," Agnes implored, she wanted to hear what Mary's though process was, and maybe help her out of her slump.

"What if I'm not cut out for this?" she asked, motioning around the room. "What if I can't keep up with the Knightlys' and they find a loophole or something, and everything I worked for gets ruined? I mean seriously, they're ruthless people Agnes, ruthless. They pretend to be civil and kind, and then when I least expect it, they'll pull the rug from under me." Mary's voice lowered, "What if they take Brighton away from me?"

"You'll be fine, okay? You're smart and determined, nothing keeps you down for long." Agnes told her friend.

Mary shrugged her shoulder, "But so are they, add that to the fact that the Knightly's have been in this business longer than I've been alive, I don't know."

"Relax Mary, the plan will work okay? Believe in yourself."

Standing up, Agnes made her way over to where Mary was and wrapped her arms around her to squeeze her unnecessarily tightly. She kept squeezing until Mary began to playfully smack her arm and complain that she couldn't breathe.