English Import

Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

The faint clicking sound of my pen was echoing tauntingly throughout the quiet office. Surely, my colleagues were frustrated with it by now. I had been tediously flicking the bloody thing for a solid hour and a half. Clearly I didn't like my job. Working in a cubicle cracking numbers was not my idea of bliss after college. But it was the only place that called me and it was putting my degree to some form of use. I knew I should have majored in art history or something more exciting. But for some peculiar reason accounting called to me.

Maybe it was the promising annual salary of an accountant versus a struggling artist. In today's society art isn't really valued as much and though it expressive and really a treat, it is a sure way to stay broke.

I looked up from the spreadsheet on the old computer and glanced around spotting a sea of down turnt heads of businessmen and women. No one looked happy. It was eerily quiet except for the distinct sound of the copy machine running nonstop. I sucked the end of the pen into my mouth, chewing on the end harshly.

Yea. I can't be here.

I quickly pushed myself out of my seat earning curious glances from my fellow accountants. I disregarded their nosiness and picked up my handbag from under the desk; simultaneously chucking in any personal possession I had on my desk into the large pocket. Which only consisted of a few framed photographs of friends and family.

"Cat what are you doing?" Molly hissed at me from her cubicle.

"You'll see Molls." I replied back to her walking towards Arnold's office door.

I took a deep breath outside the door, pausing to think this through. Was this really a wise decision? Am I going stir crazy? Suck It up Catalina!

I twisted the gold handle and slipped inside the room easily. Arnold Newburgh, my ordinarily handsome boss, looked up from his desk in complete confusion. He dropped his pen lightly on the desk and leaned back in his leather seat watching me with a faint smirk on his face. I already knew what he thought I was here for.

"Cat" he breathed out smugly "what do I owe the pleasure buttercup?" I hated that vile pet name he gave me. And I hated it even more now hearing it given what had been plaguing me for weeks.

I steeled my back and strode over to him as calmly as I could manage under his heated glare. I placed both my hands on his desk catching him off guard as I leaned in closer to him. I slipped my hand into the pocket of my purse and slapped the scented lavender envelope on his desk. He glanced down at it confused until I lifted my hand off and he caught the name scrawled on it in a dainty feminine script.

"Cat I—" he choked out flustered reaching for my wrist to stop my retreating form.

"Save it." I commanded in a tight voice lifting my hands up in agitation "We are over." I continued pausing for dramatic effect "And I quit!"

***

That was the most spontaneous thing I had ever done. At first I felt a sense of relief that I managed to have the guts to carry it through. But now, three weeks after the whole ordeal, I had finally broken down in a fit of hysterics. The reality of the situation caught up to me with such force it was unbearable. I remained cooped up in my swanky modern flat, bundled under my covers crying my eyes out.

How could he!? Was all I managed to ask myself over and over again. The pain in my chest at this very moment was thicker than it was the day I found the letter in the mailbox. Of all places! The woman had the gall to drop it in the mailbox! Our mailbox! When I pulled it out that day all I could do for a full week was stare at it. I hadn't made moves to open it at all. Even after the highly fruity scent faded I still hadn't opened it.