Anger Issues

02

The room was silent in the moments that followed while Brent took a minute to process the fact that somebody other than his mom had just told him 'no'.  Maisie sat there with only her silent prayers that maybe, just maybe, they could handle this situation calmly. She shifted gently in her seat hoping for anything to distract her from whatever was happening right now.

Brent slowly sat himself back in his chair behind his desk, placing his hands in the same position as Maisie. He seemed to have come to terms that he wasn't going to get his way for once, seeing as his mom wasn't going to let him off this easy until she was satisfied with whatever improvement she was looking for from him. Instead, Brent was figuring out some ground rules that he was going to have to set. If he was being forced to be followed around by somebody all of the time, he was going to have as much control of the situation as he possibly could.

"Okay, so this is how it's going to work: we will tell everybody that you are my full-time personal assistant, I can't have people thinking I need some sort of aid,"  He said as he began writing these rules on a random piece of paper, "you will always trail along behind me, you will have a desk to sit at in the corner of this office, you shouldn't speak unless you are spoken to first, and always have hand sanitizer ready for me- I believe it to be bad luck to keep the germs of less rich business owners on my hands." Trying not to let her astonishment reflect in her voice, Maisie sat up and met his gaze before she began to speak, "Fine, I'll be your personal assistant, but I will not trail behind you like some sort of dog, I am a grown adult just like you so I shall walk wherever I please; I think I'll speak whenever I'd like, though, luckily for you, I don't tend to speak much to people I don't know; I'll agree to the whole hand sanitizer deal but your reason for it is completely ridiculous, you may be a great business owner and have more money than you know what to do with but that doesn't really make you better than everybody else." Looking down at his paper, Brent made a few corrections and proceeded to take a thumb tack and place it on the small cork board next to his desk. Pointing at the parchment, he simply said, "Our rules, which we will follow all of the time, will remain on this board. Now, come, I've got a meeting. I'll tell somebody to bring a desk in here for you." Maisie grabbed her bag and waited for him outside of his door while he spoke to somebody about getting her a desk. "You know, I never did get your name, I'm not used to introductions. Everybody already knows who I am and I don't generally speak to anybody other than those who make almost as much money as I do," said Brent. He didn't even sound cocky about it, he was just being bluntly honest to her, which she chose to ignore for the time being. "Maisie, my name's Maisie," she answered. "Right, Maisie, I think today you should just observe, or whatever. See how I actually handle situations and not whatever my mother told you. Don't try and interject, just watch. Deal?" He looked at her, waiting for her to agree. "I won't interject if you don't make a big deal about something minor. Deal?" "Deal."  

....

"Why would you do that?" Brent asked through gritted teeth, "Whatever happened to not interjecting anything? That didn't seem like just observing to me, that seemed like sticking your nose where it doesn't belong!" "You want to ask me what happened to not interjecting?" Maisie asked, extremely calmly, before beginning again, "What happened to not making a big deal about minor things, Brent? Also, seeing as it is my job to assist you with your anger issues, my nose was right were it belonged, thank you!" Completely disregarding almost every word she had just said, Brent retorted, "I am your boss, you need to call me Mr. Hollier just like the rest of my employees do." "I thought we've been through this, Brent," She responded, just as calmly as before, but with the slightest hint of emphasis on his name, "you are not my boss, your mother is, and we're the same age, you don't call somebody 'Mr.' or 'Mrs.' when they're literally the same age as you, that's just odd."  And, almost as if it was routine, Brent picked up the pastel pink flower vase that sat on the corner of a random desk, and chucked it at the wall. Pieces of glass flew through the air, the water rained on all its nearby objects, and the half-dead daisies simply lay in a pile on the floor. "Get somebody in here to clean this up," Brent shouted while making his way back to his office. After offering to help clean the mess that she couldn't help but to feel responsible for, Masie speed walked back to the office. Brent was leaning over the back of a chair and it was hard to decipher if he was using it as support or if he was about to throw that against the wall, too. Maisie quietly closed the doors behind her and went to sit at the new desk that was now placed in the left corner of the room, a few feet away from the door. When Brent had finally grabbed a bottle of water from his fridge and sat in his seat, he began to exhale loudly and massage his temples. After a few more moments of silence, and after a battle within herself of whether she was brave or stupid, Maisie finally spoke up, in her calm and soothing voice,

"You know, for somebody who thinks they don't have any anger problems, we sure do have a lot to work on."