5 hours later
It's 3 pm on a sunny day, and I can't wait to get over with work already. As I skim across a two-hundred-something-page manuscript, I realize that editing isn't all that I expected it to be. Surprise, surprise! I had already put up a front to like what I do, and now it seemed that I had to put up the act a little longer (probably till rest of my life). I mindlessly doodled on the sides of the pages, hoping for motivation to strike. But like my imaginary sugar daddy, motivation had vertigo from art.
When I applied for Bexley's, all I had to do was stick my credentials and the rest was done by Mr. Tiffins. I felt guilty in moments like this when I was not happy with what I already had- a well-paying job. Dream job, or not, adulthood just hangs you in a state of existential crisis. Now I had no idea what I was doing there. If books were people, I would always be a non-fic with a dusty jacket, that no one reads. But someday or other, even the worst covers get picked, read, and praised. All I had to do was hang in there till someone comes for me.
It isn't all bad. Some days, I would look back to today and feel proud to be a part of a story that people could connect. That's the true joy in the job, if I am telling the truth. Back in middle school, the first novel I read was 'Saffy's Angel'; I couldn't put it down. Somehow I found myself relating to the little girl who wanted a sense of belonging. Don't we all? Maybe it is my chance to give back what I had taken from the numerous authors and storytellers affordably.
"Maybe you should have given writing a shot." I recalled what Professor Lime had told me the day I showed him my resume. I suspected him to be lying because the day I almost tried narrating a script at Winter Campfire, everyone dozed off before the climax. Thank God I don't write books. I am a crappy storyteller in voice, in words like-wise. It turned out that I had zero talent with expression. I was good with grammar, quite angst with the commas and periods, and over-obsessed with why and why not we should use ellipsis. That's what got me into Bexley's.
"I need the manuscripts for final editing." The new editor stopped by at my cubicle and that got me started. There was no way for the manuscripts to get done with before evening. I let out a sigh.
Halfway through, I felt I had picked the wrong job. I wasn't scrolling social media like Josh, or bossing around like Amanda. All I did was read these stories, and point out flaws in them like high school bullies point out yours when show up with a bad hair day.
If I had to hang around a little longer, I had to work it out with things. The little tete-a-tete with Mr. Turner in his office made it quite apparent that he isn't the type who lets people off the hook easily. .
"Get the work done, Mellon or leave." The words sent shivers down my spine.All he had to say was that he would fire me if I couldn't get back in my element. I would have liked it if Amanda broke the news to me. There are some people whom you expect to break all the bad news in the world. Not the CEO. Especially when he seemed hot and a tiny bit friendly at first?
I heard someone knock that interrupted my self-loathing and asked them to get in.
"Hi, Josh!"
He stood near the teak table, staring at the screen for a while, and then he turned to me. His black blazer was gone. His hair was a bit tousled, and there were faint red marks on his collar. My eyes went wide at the possibilities.
"I was wondering if you wanted to grab a late lunch together cause I think I can get us out for a while. You have been holed up here since your talk with Tyranny Turner."
He said.
I gaped at him. Tyranny Turner was Will Turner? Made sense. Yes, he is hot. Handsome. Heartless. He fits the description, though not all tyranny-s are hot. I mean, look at Hitler. He was not too tall, had no good fashion sense, and all he was obsessed with was wiping off a race and tattooing a symbol on other people's heads. Maybe Tyranny wasn't quite the word for Mr.Turner. But, Josh and I had decided on it, so it must have a slight context.
"So, are you coming or not?" He asked, looking puzzled, and I realized I had zoned out completely.
"I have to drop these to the CEO's office first."I said, too eager to get out of my cubicle. My back hurt and I needed a moment to stretch my arms. Probably not when Josh was around.
"I'll see you in ten minutes then in the common room."He mumbled and left.
My head still swirled with the lipstick stain on Josh's shirt. Was he secretly dating someone at the office? But I am the one going out on a late lunch with Josh, not some other girl. I am the lucky one this afternoon. It's not a 'date' but it can turn out to be one! Just the two of us, sipping on coffee, sharing a plate of pasta, and getting back to work hand in hand.
The clutter on my table burst my bubble. I had better get going if I wanted to live the dream I had been fantasizing for so long. I picked up manuscripts and headed straight to Mr. Turner's office. I knocked twice. No response. Was this man going to appear out of nowhere and startle me again? Cause if he will, then I would understand because that's how he was supposed to be- scary, mysterious, and cold.
"Oh, Eva! Are you waiting on Mr. Turner?"A brunette with a sleek bob asked as I turned to see her.
She wore one of those customized Bexley's attire, had two big hoops for earrings, and a diamond chaplet rested against her neck. She was an older subordinate. Natalie Scotts. The badge on her chest read. She was one of the secretaries to Mr. Turner, I recalled from what Josh told me earlier. She stood smiling in the lobby. Was she always this happy?
"I was dropping by these manuscripts for approval, Miss Scotts, "I said, giving her a half-smile.
She had blue eyes; not as charming as Josh's, but she carried a charismatic presence. Now I was grinning like an idiot, hoping she could give me some pointers on being happy.
"You can get in and leave them on the table. Mr. Turner is out for a board meeting."
Bummer. I wanted Mr.Turner to see that I wasn't a mindless kiss ass, and could do my job just fine!
Natalie moved on with her business after our brief exchange. I turned the knob, and the door creaked open. Will Turner's office was a reflection of his personality. Dark, cold, and mysterious.
I placed the manuscripts on his table and a note-
'The manuscripts you asked.
Eva:-)'
I don't remember why I drew a smiley, but that was how I would have appeared in front of him. To wipe off that dirty smirk on his face, telling him that I ace my game even though I hate doing it at times. It would be a soothing feeling altogether.
I reached for the door knob, and something caught my eye. A red vase laid near the solitary couch. I walked straight toward it. It was a small one, the kind you keep as souvenirs. I picked it up, too mesmerized by its beauty. As I turned it around my hand, I noticed a carving on the other side.
"For every flower that I have for our memories together,
Here's a haven you can keep it all forever.
Yours,
Soon to be Mrs.Turner :-)"
You've got to be kidding me! Whoever had sent that present had to be an headless oaf, because one, the vase could barely hold a finger, let alone a bouquet. Two, Will Turner wasn't a 'I will keep your flowers alive' person. Maybe, I was judging him too soon, but so did he when he asked me why I was carrying a condom around. I had just the right words for his query- "None of your business", but I simply sat their frozen till he was tired of shooting me a judgmental glare.
"Soon to be Mrs. Turner," Must be his girlfriend, or something.
Something stirred inside me, my palms turned sweaty, and the vase slipped down from my hands, hitting the floor against it. The glass broke into shards. I froze, my breath turned heavier, and I couldn't think of anything else but to get away from there. Tears welled up in my eyes.
"Shit! I broke his damn vase!"
For the first time in my life I had a great athletic idea, "Run!" the word ringed in my head.
When I closed the office door, no one was in the lobby. Thank God. I walked to the common hall.
Curiosity killed the cat, I had not got that phrase, and now I was about to be made into an example of the same; terror occupied me. I found Josh talking to Amanda. I should have known.
"Eva! What happened?" Josh asked, horrified.
"What do you mean?"I asked. Did they find out? That too that quick? All within a fraction of two minutes! Was there a verdict against me? Am I going to jail? How will I hire a lawyer? Oh, God! I am a dead meat, ain't I? My throat turned dry.
"Your hand is bleeding. Your face is white."He said, and I stared down to find my finger bruised.
Damn. The blood trailed down my fingers. What the fuck! I walked in with evidence of my own crime?
"Oh, I just...I just got a cut while using the blade. Sharp edges. I didn't even notice."I lied.
Who the fuck gets cut by blade and not notice? No one. I had zero skills in lying too. But Josh seemed to buy it.
"We need to get you first aid. Just wait." Ain't he a gentleman? My heart somersaulted.
"What were you doing with a blade?" Amanda asked, raising an eyebrow. Planning a mass murder. Performing a cult ritual. Why the hell did she care.
"Planning a cultitual." The words came out way wrong, and she looked at me like she understood every word of it.
"Cultitual?" She asked raising an eyebrow.
"It's a self care routine where you skin apples to take time off from other annoying things." I lied.
"I obviously know what a cultitual is!" She said pretending to be a smart ass. News: Cultitual didn't exist. Good luck figuring that out!
Five minutes later, Josh returned with a couple of band-aids and antiseptic. Amanda stood in silence as she shot me that glare that Gothel used to give Rapunzel when she used to talk about getting out of the tower. Josh wiped down the blood and rubbed the antiseptic. Like a true gentleman, he placed the band-aids on for me and beamed at me. All my tension seemed to dilute against the warmth of his smile. What would I do if it weren't for him!
"Now that Eva is all comfy, shall we grab a bite?"Amanda said with her plastered maroon smile. Classic bitch move.
"Yes, please. After you!" Josh said and followed behind her like a puppy.
What's with this guy? He was an epitome of mixed signals. Screw those people who say women are complicated! I followed them into the elevator. Maybe I will write a long apology letter to Mr. Turner after lunch, and he will forgive me. I sighed as the words played in my head- You are doomed, Eva.
In the grand scheme of things, your ignorance doesn't matter but your intention does, and I had no intentions of being friends, or making enemies with Will Turner. I thought we were doing a great job at being strangers.
"Josh, I think I need to practice cultitual." Amanda said, entwining her arm around his.
"Cultitual? Never heard of that." Josh asked amused.
"It's a self care routine. Isn't it, Eva?" She said, looking at me and I shrugged.
"Certainly."