A Shattered Soul - revising

Chapter 2

Tina made a neat stack of all her folders of information and rose. "I'll show you to your space, then I'll let you get on with your day." She handed me the stack. "I'm sure you have a lot of questions, but you might want a second to yourself after this flurry of new faces and names. I'm here if you need me, though, and my door is always open."

"Thanks." It was the fifth or sixth time I'd said it. Soon Tina would think I didn't know any other words. I forced myself to reciprocate with some conversation. "It's good to be here." It wasn't an outright lie. This floor, with Tina and her colleagues, might prove to be a safe space. I wasn't too sure about the rest of the building, however.

"You'll fit right in with us, I can tell," Tina said as she showed me inside a small office, no window. "It's all set up for you with a laptop and instructions how to access your account. No stress of course, but you best get ready for your meeting with the boss man." When I didn't respond, her smile wavered a little. "I'll leave you to it," she added, then left with the same bustle she'd arrived with.

****

I was prepared, or so I told myself.

Dressed in my drabbest clothes, I would be the gray mouse sneaking into the office without leaving a single mark to remember me by. I was no one to him, simply a resource, not a man with a complicated past and debilitating trigger points. I would stay professional and stick to the ingrained social codes of an employee addressing their employer.

He was not him, and that was the only thing I needed to remember.

"Mr Wilkins, Mr. Stone will see you now," his secretary said, smiling. She'd offered me all the grace a capable secretary had on call the minute I'd arrived, as though I were a client rather than an insignificant temporary coworker.

I rose from the couch and approached, preparing to knock.

"Please, just go on through," the secretary urged, waving me on as though she could propel me forward. She said it as though it was simple.

So I did as prompted, opening the door to reveal a spacious office, cold and impressive as the man behind the desk.

For a few seconds, I was allowed to stand in silence, hiding in plain sight while he scribbled notes on one of the many documents in front of him. His hand never wavered, never stilled in a moment of doubt or contemplation. He seemed a temple of decisiveness and efficiency, a man forging ahead and leaving a trail of ash behind. The epitome of American work ethic and brutal capitalism. Then, the door clicked shut behind me, and Stone glanced my way.

"Mr. Wilkins, right on time I see. Have a seat." His smooth voice wasn't kind, it simply was. Almost like he'd deliberately polished away the slightest nuance which could have left an impression.

"I've never liked being late."

He placed his pen on the desk, granting me his full attention. "Then we have something in common."

"Indeed." Polite, non-threatening. I'd done this a thousand times at Waterbridge's. I couldn't move closer to his desk, but I could stand my ground.

Stone leaned back in his chair with a wry smile. "Discipline is hard to come by these days in times of endless distractions."

"I...I'm not on Facebook, if that's what you're after." Discipline. I felt sick.

"I wouldn't presume to decide what my coworkers do off the clock." He rose slowly, graceful and simply there. All of him was too much at once. Too present, too intense. He began to close the distance between us. "I'd like to formally welcome you to The Stone."

Two syllables. Simple words, innocuous on their own, but they caught and flung my mind to a cellar of stone walls and perpetual darkness. I should have moved to meet him, but couldn't. All those hours in front of the mirror had taught me nothing.

One step back to the door, thirty-four to the elevator, one hundred and twenty-nine to leave the building. I could leave, but I chose to stay. The existence of that choice was all that mattered.

"Thank you." My voice wavered, so I tried again. "It's good to be here, Sir." A lie this time.

Stone paused, didn't touch although he'd been about to reach for me.

He frowned, and I immediately lowered my eyes. Habits I thought broken came rushing back, unnerving and unwelcome. My hands rested exactly as he had wanted them. I quickly moved them, regaining some semblance of control over my body.

I hadn't given him anything to accuse me of, nothing to condemn me by. I'd done nothing wrong. I was stronger than this.

Looking up, I watched how his frown softened. Features that had been hard and sharp like cut glass became tender spots of concern.

"Mr. Wilkins. May I call you Theo?" Deceptively kind.

"Of course, Sir."

A moment of stillness. Stone in front of me, not too close, but still a force that I somehow felt.

"I'm pleased you're here, Theo." His voice suddenly carried enough nuances to fill a symphony. No less difficult to interpret, but warmer. The change made my stomach churn.

But, the man didn't matter. I was here to work, not socialize with the boss. If he changed on a whim, I could adjust and move aside, bend like a straw in the wind instead of breaking. I could...become no one.

Stone retreated to his desk and picked a paper from the top of one pile "I've had a contract drawn up for the duration of your assignment. As you're still formally Mr. Waterbridge's employee, there's nothing for you to sign, but I want you to have seen it." He walked casually toward me, with less purpose than before. "It stipulates your hours here, the work to be done, and an end date. Most of it is negotiable."

He handed me the contract and went back to his chair. "Why don't you take some time to review it. Here or at home. You're welcome to sit outside, have a coffee, chat with Angie if you have any questions about the contract or the company before you leave." He checked his watch. "I'll let Tina know you'll be back tomorrow."

I hadn't moved since I entered his office. I had barely said a word. Dazed, I took hold of the escape he'd handed me on a plate and left, listening as the door close behind me.

The secretary, Angie, raised her head and smiled but didn't say anything before returning her focus to work. Another respite. Another chance to recuperate.

I made it to the couch, made myself sit. Piece by piece I reconnected with myself and noticed my racing heart, my cold hands, the tension in each and every muscle. Then I extended that connection to the surroundings—the leather beneath my hands, the creased contract in my hand, the low hum of the air conditioning.

I was free to leave, free to stand and walk away.

So I did.

A/N If you've read this story before, you might have noticed that this chapter is entirely new :) Let me know what you think <3 and don't forget to vote! xox